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[Illustration: FRANK READE WEEKLY MAGAZINE Containing Stories of
Adventures on Land, Sea & in the Air]

  _Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Application made for
               Second-Class Entry at N. Y. Post Office._
 No. 84.                 NEW YORK, JUNE 3, 1904          Price 5 Cents.

[Illustration]

                   Frank and Randall placed Mains on
                  the ice, at one side, and then drew
                     Barney up. The Celt came up as
                  lively as a cricket. “Sure it’s hard
                   to spile a bad egg, or to kill an
                         Oirishman,” he cried.




                                CONTENTS


             CHAPTER    I. A WONDERFUL TALE.
             CHAPTER   II. PLANS ARE MADE.
             CHAPTER  III. IN SOUTHERN SEAS.
             CHAPTER   IV. UP THE FIORD.
             CHAPTER    V. THE RUINED CITY.
             CHAPTER   VI. ACROSS THE LAKE.
             CHAPTER  VII. BARNEY’S AND POMP’S ADVENTURES.
             CHAPTER VIII. A GEOLOGICAL PHENOMENON.
             CHAPTER   IX. ON AN ISLAND.
             CHAPTER    X. A STARTLING DISCOVERY.
             CHAPTER   XI. A SERIOUS ACCIDENT.
             CHAPTER  XII. WHICH IS THE END.




                               FRANK READE

                             WEEKLY MAGAZINE.

      CONTAINING STORIES OF ADVENTURES ON LAND, SEA AND IN THE AIR.

   _Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Application made for
 Second Class entry at the New York, N. Y., Post Office Entered according
  to Act of Congress in the year 1904, in the office of the Librarian of
    Congress, Washington, D. C., by Frank Tousey, 24 Union Square, New
                                  York._

 =No. 84.=              NEW YORK, JUNE 3, 1904.        =Price 5 Cents.=




                         THE ABANDONED COUNTRY;
                                  OR,
              Frank Reade, Jr., Exploring a New Continent.


                              By “NONAME.”




                               CHAPTER I.
                           A WONDERFUL TALE.


“So you think the earth has been thoroughly explored, and that there is
no such thing as an undiscovered continent, do you?” asked Percy
Randall, as he lit a cigar and seated himself comfortably in a chair in
the office of Frank Reade, Jr., for a social chat.

The young inventor, who hardly needs an introduction to the reader, so
well is he known the world over, turned from his desk and regarded his
visitor with a quizzical smile.

“Still at that old theory, Randall?” he said. “I thought you had
discarded it after that last expedition of yours.”

Randall, a bronzed, athletic man of thirty years, but with heaps of
experience as a globe-trotter and explorer, winced, but replied lightly:

“Well, I did have a hard time. We lost our ship in Desolation Channel,
and were forced to take to an iceberg. If we had had an overland machine
like your Electric Scorcher, we could have easily crossed that ice
barrier and set foot upon the new continent, the most wonderful part of
the globe. But as it was we were carried north into Cape Horn waters on
the berg and finally picked up by an Argentine vessel.”

Frank looked interested.

“Then you really believe that there is an inhabited and undiscovered
continent beyond that ice barrier?” he asked.

“Why, I have old Jack Wendel’s word for it.”

“A sailor’s word is good except when connected with a story. The telling
of a yarn is ample license for stretching the imagination.”

“Very good,” rejoined Randall, “but old Jack has given his davy on it,
and all sorts of oaths. Oh, I firmly believe him.”

“I would much like to hear his story,” said Frank.

“You would?” asked Randall, eagerly.

“Yes.”

“Then you shall. I brought him here to-day for that purpose. He is just
outside the door. I will call him.”

Randall opened the office door and called:

“Wendel, come in here!”

The next moment there appeared in the doorway the figure of a sailor of
the old-time type, who spliced the mainbrace and made sennit in the
forecastle in the palmy days of the “tea wagons” and seventy-four gun
frigates.

Jack Wendel pulled his foretop respectfully before Frank, and said:

“With submission, sir, just come aboard, and at your service!”

“Glad to meet you, sir!” said Frank, warmly. “Sit down. My friend here
tells me that you have a wonderful yarn to tell.”

Wendel shot a shrewd glance at Frank, then said:

“It is not a yarn, skipper. It is a true story, on my honor!”

“Very good,” said Frank. “I should be glad to have you repeat it to me.”

“And you, sir?”

Wendel looked at Randall, who said:

“Certainly, Jack: fire away.”

The old salt clasped his hands over his knees and began:

“It was in ’53, and I went out from Baltimore in the Mary Luce. Captain
Barnaby, for Peru. There never was a stauncher ship, mates, nor the
Luce. She stood up like a church in a running gale, and it was no light
storm that put her under the rollers.

“Well, we were forty-three souls aboard—crew, officers, and a few
passengers. We had a lucky voyage all the way across the Equator and
down the coast until we struck ther Horn seas. Then there was the Old
Harry to pay.

“We hit into a south storm, and for four days we were unable to tell
where we were. The seas came aboard like avalanches and cleared the deck
to the masts fore and aft. That was a leetle the toughest trip I ever
had. And I haven’t forgotten it.

“Well, the way the wind did howl and the sea run! When at length the sun
shone long enough to take an observation our skipper swore that we were
south of the Antarctic Circle.

“And with that our bosun’s mate came up to say that the ship was leaking
a hundred strokes a minute, more or less. We all turned to the pumps and
worked like madmen.

“But what was the use? We could never hope to make land under many
weeks, and the ship could not float that long. We were put to it pretty
desperate, and finally the end came.

“There was no way but to take to the boats. What was worse, a little
squall came up and made it almost impossible to launch ’em. Then the
ship began to settle.

“I can’t tell ye just all about what followed. The captain’s boat was
lowered and swamped. The longboat cleared with fourteen aboard, but was
caught between the rollers and capsized. All hands went down.

“There were over twenty of us left on the ship’s deck, and a regular
fight was made for the remaining boats. They were put out and two of ’em
got clear and made off. But whatever became of ’em nobody ever knew. Six
of us were left behind, and we had given ourselves up for lost.

“But the ship water-logged and did not sink as soon as it was thought
that she would. That gave us time to make a raft. We put some stores on
it, and set out in a calmer sea. For six weeks we floated in those icy
seas.

“Luckily for us, it was the Antarctic summer, and we managed to get
along with our thin clothing until we suddenly hailed land. Yes, it was
actually land, away beyond the icebergs.

“There were mountains and a smoking volcano. At once our boys were
decided to pay it a visit.

“The raft drifted on into the edge of the ice floe. Then we left her and
cut out across the icefield.

“It would lake a long time for me to tell ye all that happened us on
that long walk. One of our men slid into an air-hole and we never saw
him again.

“Another died of exhaustion. But we kept on, though the cold was
something awful to bear, until at last we came to a cut in the shore
line. It was the mouth of a big river, and was jammed full of ice.

“It looked like a clear country beyond. We saw fir forests and evidences
of a game country. So we pushed on over the ice-packs in the river.

“For fifty miles we followed the course of that icy river between
fearful mountains and through deep gorges. At length we noticed a
peculiar warmth in the atmosphere, and one of our boys, sniffing the
air, declared:

“‘On my word, mates. I can smell land!’

“And, in fact, we could. The awful chill of the ice world was gone. Hope
revived in our breasts. We kept on, and the farther we went the more
evidences we found of the existence of a land clear from ice.

“At length we came to clear, open places in the river. Water was
visible. There were bare patches of shore and hillside.

“The soil was auriferous, and we found slight evidences of minerals. Now
a warm breeze relaxed our stiffened muscles and removed the tension from
our lungs. We pressed on.

“A few days later we left the ice region behind us entirely, and came
upon the wonderful Polar country. I couldn’t begin to describe it all to
ye mates, but it was unlike any other part of the earth.

“Well, we wandered around for six months. It was easy to live there, for
there was plenty of game. In the valleys were cities and towns, and at a
distance we saw the Polar people. These are not to be classed with the
Esquimaux, and seemed quite equal to the Europeans of the lower class.

“But we were not sure of a warm reception, so we did not venture to make
their acquaintance. We kept out of sight in the hills.

“Well, we lived a year in the Polar country. We liked the life, but
after awhile we tired of it as sailors will. Jim Welch wanted to go back
to his wife in Salem: Rod Smith had a sweetheart in Buzzards’ Bay, and
Jack Olson had promised his mother to stay at home with her after this
voyage.

“So we figured out our position. We knew that in April the ice-fields
would move north. Many of the big bergs would drift nearly to the
Equator. We decided to make our way to one and take our chances on being
picked up by a ship.

“So we made us suits of fur. Then we traveled down the river to the
coast again.

“Here we found a big berg in a good position and made us a camp on it.
We dug a deep cache and filled it with frozen meat and fowls. We dipped
fresh water from small wooden troughs set in the top of the berg, which
filled with water the first rain.

“When the proper time came the berg began to drift out to sea. Then we
got into the Equatorial drift. It was a rough and strange experience.

“For months we lived on the berg, watching every day for a sail. Day by
day the warm waters licked the ice away until all that was left of the
big ice structure was about an acre in area. Then we knew that a great
danger threatened us.

“One day Jim Welch, with a white face, came out, and said:

“‘Did ye feel that shiver in the berg a moment ago, lads? I tell ye
she’ll turn turtle before two days!’

“You know that all bergs, after melting to a certain point, will grow
top-heavy and turn over. That would settle our ease. And yet no sail.

“But the next morning at sunrise a Venezuelan schooner lay off our lee.
The Gringo skipper answered our hail and took us off. He carried us to
Caracas and we then shipped for New York.

“We were glad to get home, and none of us wanted to go back. But we
could say that we had visited a part of the world that was never
explored.

“And in that light we felt as big as Columbus, for there’s no telling
what may some day come out of the discovery when trade is opened up. And
that, mates, is the whole of my story!”




                              CHAPTER II.
                            PLANS ARE MADE.


With this the sailor arose, touched his cap, and started for the door.
But Frank, who had listened with the most intense interest, said:

“Wait! do not go yet, Jack. I may want to ask you some questions.”

“At your service, skipper.”

“Well,” said Randall, triumphantly, “what do you think of it now,
Frank?”

“I own that I am much interested.” replied the young inventor. “It is a
remarkable tale, and a valuable discovery.”

“So I believe,” cried Randall. “Here is evidence of the existence of a
new and undiscovered continent. What better field could a man want?”

“How is it, Wendel?” asked the young inventor, turning to the sailor,
“could my Electric Scorcher travel easily through that region?”

“Ay, sir, I believe it could, after ye left the ice behind,” replied the
sailor.

Frank knit his brows.

“How great a distance would we have to travel over the ice fields?” he
asked.

“Not over one hundred miles.”

“I have a plan,” said the young inventor. “I can attach my new skate
shoes with the ice-crank to the wheels. That would enable us to cross
the ice, and we can remove them when we strike land.”

An ecstatic cry escaped Randall’s lips.

“Oh, then you really think of going?” he cried. “That is splendid,
Frank. It will be a wonderful experience.”

“Ah, but I have not promised absolutely,” said the young inventor,
quickly. “But I will say this, that I will think the matter over
seriously.”

“Only think of the glory of the thing!”

“That is true, but the feasibility of the enterprise must be strongly
considered. You have tried it——”

“And failed. But you see, Frank, I had not the resources which you
have—the fertile brain for devising expedients, and the Electric
Scorcher.”

Frank turned and pressed a small call-bell. The door opened and a <DW64>,
black as soot, appeared.

“Pomp,” said Frank, “where is Barney?”

“Dat I’shman, sah? He am jes’ outside, sah,” replied the <DW53>, with a
duck of the head.

“Call him in. I want to see both of you.”

“All right, sah.”

A moment later a shock-headed native of the Emerald Isle appeared with
the <DW54>. These two men were Frank Reade, Jr.’s most faithful
colleagues and companions in many a wonderful voyage.

“Wud yez loike to see me, sor?” asked Barney, with a scrape.

“I want to ask you if you have put the supplies aboard the Scorcher
yet?”

Both bowed.

“Shure an’ we have, sor.”

“It am all ready, Marse Frank.”

“Good enough,” said Frank, in a pleased tone. “I have news for you. Mr.
Randall and his friend have told me of a wonderful country beyond the
Antarctic Circle which I think of paying a visit to. In that case it
will not be long before we shall leave Readestown upon a new and
wonderful voyage.”

Barney gave a cry of delight and turned a flip-flap. Pomp cut a pigeon
wing.

“Golly, golly, dat am jes’ fine!”

“Bejabers, I’m glad of it!”

“Now, be off, both of you,” commanded Frank, “and get the machine all
ready for the start.”

Away scurried the two jokers, and Frank turned to his companions, with a
smile.

“They will leave nothing undone,” he said. “We are practically all ready
to start at once.”

“That is good!” cried Randall. “Frank, you are a rusher!”

“Of course, you will be one of our party?” asked Frank.

“Delighted, and ——” Randall looked toward Wendel.

“Of course, we shall have to include your friend, if he will consent to
go.”

Wendel pulled his foretop, and replied:

“At your service, skipper. I didn’t think I’d ever ship for that
latitude again, but I’m with ye.”

All shook hands.

The compact was made.

They were about to undertake what seemed a herculean task, namely, the
paying of a visit to an unexplored and comparatively inaccessible part
of the world. What chances there were against them could easily be
enumerated.

There was the possibility of never emerging from the deadly ice-floes,
where the temperature was so fearfully low as to mitigate against human
life. Wild beasts and wilder inhabitants were only a few of the perils.

But Frank Reade, Jr., was not the one to take backward steps once he
assumed an undertaking.

“Now,” he said, briskly, “let us get down to business. We must first
consider the means of getting to the Antarctic with the Scorcher.”

“Very good,” said Randall. “Can you suggest a plan?”

Wendel here pulled his foretop and said, respectfully:

“With respect to my superiors, sir, I think I can give ye a trick at the
proper course.”

Frank and Randall turned.

“Very well,” said Frank, pleasantly. “We will be glad to hear it.”

“I have a friend—a former shipmate,” said Wendel, “who owns a staunch
brig—just such a vessel as can stand the rough winds and the ice. His
ship lies in New Bedford harbor now. His name is Captain Isaac Ward, and
the name of his ship is the Black Pearl. He would, I think, undertake
the voyage without any doubt.”

“Good!” cried Frank, with alacrity. “How soon can we see him, and
where?”

“I will wire him now!” said Randall, excitedly. “If we can charter his
brig we shall be all right.”

A few moments later, a telegraph message was speeding on its way to New
Bedford. An hour later an answer came:

                  *       *       *       *       *

“FRANK READE, JR.: My brig is in commission and ready for a cruise. I
will agree to reasonable terms and will be in Readestown to-morrow.

                                                           “ISAAC WARD.”

                  *       *       *       *       *

All that the adventurers could now do was to wait for the coming of
Captain Ward. Frank arose from the desk, and said:

“Would not you gentlemen like to take a look at the Scorcher?”

“Delighted,” was Randall’s reply, and Wendel nodded eagerly. So they
left the office with that purpose in view.

When Barney and Pomp went forth they were in hilarious spirits. They
crossed the yard with a hop, skip and jump, and approached the heavy
iron doors of a high, truss-roofed structure.

“Ki yi!” cried Pomp, clicking his heels together. “I jes’ ’lot on seein’
dem icebergs. Huh! dat be a berry good place fo’ yo’, I’sh.”

“Phwat do yez mane, naygur?” interrogated Barney.

“Bekase it am so cold.”

“Phwat has that to do wid me, yez grinning misfit av an ape?”

“Hi, hi, hi! Don’ yo’ know? Ice am a’right fo’ to preserve green fings.”

Barney made a biff at Pomp.

“Be me sowl, it’ll make yez more conspicuous fer yer color, naygur!” he
cried. “Shure, ye’ll froighten the whole counthry.”

“Huh! reckon dere am brack men in all pahts ob de worl’.”

“Divil a wan will yez foind on the old sod.”

“Dat am a berry unfortunate fing fo’ de island,” retorted Pomp. “Ki,
dar, look out fo’ dat big snaik!”

The <DW54> simulated terror and pointed to the Celt’s feet. Of course,
there was no snake there, but the exclamation caused Barney to leap and
yell with terror.

When he saw how he had been sold he made an angry biff at Pomp.

“Begorra, I’ll have yer skhin fer that!” he yelled.

But Pomp put out his foot and tripped the Celt up. However, Barney
caught the <DW54>’s ankle and brought him down, too.

Then there followed a mix-up. For a time it was hard to tell which had
the best of it.

But suddenly approaching footsteps and voices were heard.

“Whisht!” cried Barney. “That’s Misther Frank. Be off wid yez.”

And they scurried away just in time. Frank, with his visitors, came up
and opened the big doors. There upon a small platform stood the new
invention.

The Electric Scorcher was built for speed, and with an idea to economy
of space and lightness. It weighed hardly a thousand pounds, but on its
pneumatic tired wheels ran apparently as light as an ordinary bicycle.

The symmetry of its build and the grace of its contour were remarkable.
In these was seen the master hand of the builders and the mechanics.

The body of the Scorcher was made of bullet-proof plates of steel. It
rested upon light but strong running gear. There were four plate-glass
windows upon each side and one in the rear.

Above the desk rose a structure of steel netting—a sort of cage in which
the voyagers could remain with unimpeded view in all directions. In this
cage there were loopholes for firing upon a foe, if such a thing as
defense should become necessary.

Over this cage was a small deck, and upon it was mounted a long, light
steel cylinder. This was Frank Reade, Jr.’s most wonderful invention—the
pneumatic dynamite electric gun.

This was a very deadly weapon, capable of throwing a dynamite shell two
miles with frightful effect.

Just forward of this cage was the pilot-house, with heavy, plate-glass
windows. The rear of the Scorcher was graced with a steel hood—much like
the top of a chaise. In this there were kept the dynamos and electric
engines.

In the pilot-house there was a keyboard by which the machine could be
regulated and operated. Over the pilot-house was a powerful searchlight,
with a wide range.

The equipments and furnishings of the machine throughout were of the
best, and there were stores aboard sufficient for a year’s journey.
Nothing had been left undone.

The Electric Scorcher was quite ready for the trip.

The two visitors looked the machine over with wonderment and delight.
Then they went back to the office, where final arrangements were made.

And thus was undertaken the remarkable feat of making a voyage to an
undiscovered continent.

It was an arduous and perilous undertaking, but our adventurers were
pledged to it, and what their success was we shall see.




                              CHAPTER III.
                           IN SOUTHERN SEAS.


And now, with the reader’s permission, we will change the scene of our
story to the high seas south of the Equator.

The Black Pearl, staunch brig, was plowing her way through a
white-capped sea. Unusually good weather had favored the party thus far.

There had been no difficulty encountered with the doldrums or head-winds
even, and the Pearl had made a quick passage.

The sun was fiercely hot, and they were yet able to realize that they
were in the tropics. But they knew that every hour now brought them
nearer to their destination.

On the deck a canopy had been erected, and under this all were fond of
reclining.

The principal pastime was of discussing the probable results of the trip
and the peculiarities of the Antarctic land.

As near as Frank could figure, the fiord or river outlet, by means of
which Wendel and his companions had entered the Antarctic country, was
off the coast of Graham Land.

In that case a course due south from Cape Horn would be pretty sure to
bring them into the right locality. So the brig held that course.

The arrangement was that Captain Ward should land them as near the
Antarctic coast as possible on the icefield.

Then he would return to Montevideo and remain four months, after which
he would come back to the edge of the icefield and cruise about for a
month.

Finding no signs of the voyagers then he would go back to Montevideo for
two months more, thence returning to the ice-pack for a month.

After three such attempts, consuming about a year in time, he would then
be assured that the adventurers would not come out alive, and he could
go wherever his fancy dictated.

This was the plan.

Frank had chartered the Pearl and crew for one year, paying them a
liberal bonus, for the voyage was a more arduous one than the ordinary.

There were eighteen men in the crew, all plucky and hardy fellows, who
were ready to fight at command.

Captain Ward was intensely interested in the project of exploring the
Antarctic Continent, and more than once hinted at a desire to leave his
ship and accompany the Scorcher’s party.

But our adventurers took great pains not to encourage such a thing, for
there were already enough in the party.

As is usually the case, the forecastle also got hold of the matter and
the result was that a pretty yarn was soon going the rounds.

This was to the effect that there were fabulous gold mines back of the
great ice-belt, and that the voyagers were bound thither to work the
newly discovered mines.

Now, if there is one thing which will inflame the minds of lawless men
it is the yellow metal.

At once a thrill of excitement ran through the ship.

The fever was on, and it had a lamentable and disastrous effect upon the
sailors.

They neglected their duties and crowded in secret knots about the ship.
Look into the eyes of any one of them and there you would see the demon
of avarice, the haunting, restless spirit of gain and greed.

Of course, such a state of affairs as this could not help but be bad for
the ship and all on board.

The crew might mutiny.

Frank was the first to notice it, and said to Randall:

“I am afraid that idea is going to make trouble. Even the captain has
the foolish fancy.”

“You are right,” agreed Randall, “and it has worried me not a little.
What ought we to do about it?”

“Is there any way in which we can dispel the illusion?”

“I can think of no way save to call them to quarters and have the
captain tell them what the real errand of the Scorcher is.”

“Will they believe it?”

“Perhaps not, but I see no other way.”

“Very well.”

So Randall held a consultation with Captain Ward, and the result was
that the men were called aft and lectured.

The mission of the Scorcher was enlarged upon, but even as he berated
his crew it could be seen that the captain was not himself convinced.

Frank shook his head ominously at this.

“I am afraid that trouble will come out of it all,” he said.

Below the Tropic of Capricorn the weather grew cooler and more rapid
progress was made.

One day some islands were sighted off to the southwest. Captain Ward
closed his glass, and said:

“The Falklands, gentlemen. Do you wish to stop there awhile?”

“No!” replied Frank, emphatically. “Let us get into southern waters as
quickly as possible.”

“Aye, aye, sir!”

Straight southward the brig held her way. But progress now was slow.

They encountered rough seas and heavy storms. For weeks the brig fought
her way through mountain rollers, until at last, somewhat battered, she
sighted distant land.

The captain consulted his chart, and said:

“I reckon that is Graham Land. But there are fifty miles of ice-floes
this side of it. Perhaps, though, we can find a channel for the brig.”

Down among the ice-floes the Pearl sailed. It was difficult work, but
after many days of struggling she anchored in a little lagoon in the
icefield and not ten miles from the coast.

And Wendel pointed to a distant break in the coast and cried:

“There is the fiord or river mouth up which we steered.”

This caused intense excitement. Preparations were at once begun for
unloading the Scorcher.

The sections of the machine were taken off upon the ice-pack. Then
Barney and Pomp went to work to put it together.

In a short space the machine was all ready for the start. All this
while the captain and his men had stood by eagerly watching.

The captain had asked Frank many questions, all of which the young
inventor had thought it no harm to answer.

At length the adventurers went aboard the Scorcher and all was ready for
the start. The ice-shoes had been fitted to the wheels, which were in
turn rigged with chains.

Under each wheel was a sharp cog arrangement which struck into the ice
and thus propelled the Scorcher over the smooth surface or the clinging
snow. And thus the start was made.

Frank and his companions had shaken hands with the captain, and the
young inventor said:

“I suppose you will soon be on your way to Montevideo, Mr. Ward. You
will need to make haste to avoid getting shut up in the ice-pack for the
coming winter.”

“I will look out for that!” replied Ward, stiffly.

He was offended.

Then the Scorcher glided slowly away across the icefield, leaving the
brig yet in the little ice-bound basin.

The progress across the icefield was by no means easy.

There were sections of it where the ice-cakes had crashed together and
made long mounds or high harriers. Sometimes these were fifty feet or
more in height.

But the travelers pushed on.

They were used to overcoming obstacles.

It was often necessary to make a smooth road over or through these
barriers, and this took much time. The light of the waning Antarctic day
was none too bright.

But steadily our adventurers drew nearer to the mighty cliffs and
headlands, which opened to create the deep fiord.

The trip, however, was not without incident, for just as they were
skirting a high pinnacle of ice, it cracked, crumbled and fell.

The descending avalanche, fortunately, did not fall squarely upon the
Scorcher, else the result might have been serious.

It, instead, massed itself about the machine and half buried it. For a
time the adventurers were in a virtual panic.

They feared the Scorcher might be injured.

But as soon as the crashing ice settled into place, Frank sprung out of
the pilot-house and began to examine the running gear of the machine.

“How is it?” asked Randall; “has anything smashed?”

“Nothing,” replied Frank, joyfully. “I feared the worst.”

“I thought we were doomed.”

“So did I, but thanks to Providence we are all right.”

“Save for the ice.”

“Hang me for a whale,” exploded Wendel, “I don’t see how we’ll ever
squirm out of this, mates!”

“Well, you shall see,” said Frank. “Barney and Pomp, here’s work for us.
Let all hands fall to.”

In a few moments all had doffed their fur garments and were working like
beavers.

The ice was cleared from the deck after twenty minutes of hard work.
Then Frank hit upon an idea.

He went into the pilot-house and brought out a number of heavy wires.

“What are you going to do, Frank?” asked Randall.

“Wait and you will see,” said the young inventor, vaguely.

“I will do so,” agreed Randall. “I suppose it is as good as settled that
we are out of here without further effort?”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“Oh, you never fail. If I had half your resource and inventive faculty I
would be a king among men.”

“Pshaw!” said Frank, testily. “Don’t talk nonsense!”

Over the ice-heap the young inventor went with the wires. Then he
brought out small dynamite cartridges and placed one at the end of each
wire. It was now that Randall clearly saw his purpose.

“Will not the explosion injure the machine?” he asked.

“It is not sufficient in quantity,” replied Frank. “If it was in a mass
it might, but such small charges will only shake the ice to powder. Once
we can clear it away from the wheels we are all right.”

However, the voyagers watched Frank’s work with some anxiety as well as
interest. After awhile it was completed.

Then the young inventor connected the wires with the dynamos. A touch of
the electric button and the charge was off.

There was quite a sharp explosion.

A quantity of loose ice shot up into the air, and the whole mass
gradually settled lower.

The huge cakes were split and riven in twain, and made easier to handle.
As they were clearing them away Barney gave a sharp cry.

He picked up a block of ice in which was imbedded a man’s skull. It was
a hideous looking object.




                              CHAPTER IV.
                             UP THE FIORD.


In an instant all were crowded about the Celt, and interested in his
strange discovery.

“Shure, phwereiver did this poor sowl come from?” cried the Celt.
“Shure, he must have died here!”

“Golly! did yo’ ebber see de beat ob dat?” cried Pomp, in amazement.

“A human skull!” ejaculated Randall. “How is it, Frank? Is not that
proof that these frozen latitudes are inhabited?”

“It is proof that they have been visited before by man,” agreed Frank.
“It looks like the skull of a civilized man.”

“And so it is, mates,” cried Wendel. “Now I remember, when we crossed
this icefield John Morgan, one of our men, died and we buried him here
in the ice. I reckon that is his skull.”

“The mystery explained,” cried Randall, “but where is the rest of the
body?”

“That question is readily answered,” replied Frank. “The constant
shifting of the ice may have disintegrated the body and distributed
parts of it everywhere. Lively now, and let’s get the machine clear.
Time is valuable.”

Ten minutes later the Scorcher glided out of its bed of ice and crossed
the high line of ice-blocks to the smooth icefield beyond.

“All aboard!” cried Frank.

The rest of the way to the coast was easy traveling. Then the mouth of
the fiord was entered.

It was the gateway to the unknown world of the Antarctic, and it need
hardly be said that all in the party were intensely interested.

High up on the rocky steeps of the fiord snow-burdened firs hung over
the abyss. At times a bear or a fox might be seen among the icy rocks.

Great flocks of penguins and other water fowl were in evidence. There
was an abundance of game.

The Scorcher soon came to a long, level reach of smooth ice. Over this
the machine sped with ease.

Miles flew by and soon the snow-burdened region began to unfold itself.

Wendel suddenly pointed to a distant range of mighty mountains, and
declared:

“Look ye, mates! Beyond that range is the new continent. Do you see that
column of smoke?”

“The volcano!” ejaculated Frank.

“Just so, skipper. We crossed the range to the west of that. This river
rises somewhere in those heights.”

“How far distant are they?” asked Randall.

“About seventy miles,” calculated Frank.

“Yes, fully one hundred,” declared Wendel. “Distances are greater in
this sort of atmosphere.”

“That is quite likely,” agreed Frank, “but it looks to me as if we must
have rough traveling to get there.”

“Stick to the river,” declared Wendel, “then there will be no trouble.”

The voyagers now kept their gaze constantly upon the distant volcanic
range. The blue haze which seemed to hang over their black summits was
certainly fair proof that a land free from snow and ice existed beyond.

It was easy to understand why snow and ice did not cling to the volcanic
mountains, for the internal fires doubtless banished it. But what was
beyond would have been a matter of conjecture but for Wendel’s story.

The gloom which hung over the Antarctic country had begun to increase
largely, until it became certain that the Polar night was at hand.

The sun had not been seen above the horizon since entering the fiord,
and there were times when it became almost necessary to use the
searchlight.

But they had soon covered most of the distance to the volcanic hills. As
they drew nearer, they were compelled to leave the river, as the ice
melted and huge stretches of open water appeared.

But fortunately the surface of the ground was such that they had little
trouble in making their way along, until finally long, level tracts of
green <DW72>s lay between them and the volcano.

An eruption was in progress, and the spectacle was a grand one.

The ground trembled even where they were, and great fiery streams of
lava were seen coursing down the crater’s side.

Immense shafts of fire, smoke and ashes shot up from the crater to an
enormous height.

While the eruption was in progress it was not deemed best to approach
nearer. It lasted fully two hours.

When it ceased Frank sent the Scorcher ahead. Between the volcano and an
adjoining mountain he saw a deep pass, and into this the machine
plunged.

It was as dark as Erebus, but the searchlight made the way clearer.
Great walls of basalt rose upon either side.

Wendel, however, assured Frank that this pass was the true entrance to
the warm valleys beyond. So the young inventor did not hesitate.

The snowshoes had been removed from the wheels, for they had now left
the snow and ice region behind.

The air had rapidly grown milder, and it became necessary to remove all
their heavy clothing. Indeed, the air which now rushed through the gorge
was like a hot blast.

In a short while, however, as Wendel had predicted, the walls of the
gorge began to widen, and now for the first time our voyagers beheld the
land of promise, the new continent.

There it lay before them, green and fertile and beautiful as far as the
eye could reach.

From their exalted position they could see a great panorama, smooth,
green plains, clumps of trees, winding streams and beautiful lakes. They
gazed upon it spellbound.

For months they had beheld nothing but stormy waters, cold icebergs and
inhospitable rocks.

It was a relief to the senses and to the soul to now gaze upon this
wonderful revelation of Divine Nature.

Wendel and Barney and Pomp raised their caps and cheered.

“Be me sowl, it looks foine down there!” cried the Celt. “Shure, I’d
loike a dip in that clear, cool wather!”

Everybody laughed at this.

“What, so soon after leaving a region of ice, Barney?” cried Randall.
“Really I should not think your blood would heat so quickly as that.”

But Barney hung to his hobby and announced his intention of taking a
swim whenever the Scorcher should have reached the right locality. Pomp
did the same.

The intense gloom which prevailed over the ice region for some strange
reason did not seem to exist here. A peculiar, bright light, which
seemed like a reflection from the zenith, made the Polar Continent quite
light.

For a time our adventurers regarded the panorama below them. Then Frank
started the Scorcher down the mountain <DW72>s to a series of plateaus
just below.

Wendel was right in his element.

He recalled many scenes and incidents upon all sides, and never tired of
telling of them.

Frank inquired:

“But the cities and towns, and the Polar people. We have seen nothing of
them yet!”

“Well, it is high time,” replied Wendel. “I think we will see them from
lower ground.”

So all looked forward eagerly to this possibility. The Scorcher, with
brakes on, slowly made its way down the mountain side.

Soon, after a descent of a few thousand feet, not unattended, with risk,
the machine slid out upon a plateau. Here the surface was comparatively
smooth and free from obstructions.

The Scorcher rolled forward to the verge of the plateau.

Then glasses were brought out, and all looked for the habitations
described by Wendel, but the old sailor was given a great surprise.

They were nowhere visible.

Words can hardly depict his supreme amazement. The eyes of all were
fixed upon him.

“Well, I’m blowed,” exclaimed the old sailor. “I can say that there were
cities and towns and people here, when I was here before! I don’t see
how they could take wings and fly away!”

“That is very curious, Jack,” said Randall. “Are you sure this is the
locality visited by you?”

“Sartin it is, mate.”

Presently Frank and Randall descended from the deck of the Scorcher, and
strolled along the verge of the plateau.

“In every other respect,” said Randall, “the old fellow’s story has
proven correct.’”

“That is true,” replied Frank, “and yet it seems hardly possible that he
could be mistaken in regard to seeing the people and their towns.”

“Exactly! How, then, do you explain the discrepancy?”

“There is one way.”

“What is it?”

“Perhaps they have departed for some other part of this region.”

“Abandoned the country?”

“Just so!”

“But—what would be their reason?”

“That can hardly be explained without further investigation. Perhaps an
enemy descended upon them and swept them out of existence. Perhaps a
pestilence or a flood.”

“There must have been some reason for it.”

“Just so.”

“Well, what shall we do?”

“I propose that we push our way down into this abandoned country. We
will doubtless find some trace of the Polar people, perhaps the ruins of
their town.”

“I agree with you, and I am eager to go on. Let us lose no time.”

“One moment, please!”

Frank placed his glass to his eyes and studied some objects in the
valley below for a few moments.

Then he exclaimed:

“Have you a glass, Randall?”

“Yes.”

“Take a look to the east of that little clump of trees down there. Do
you see anything?”

Randall complied with this request. His face changed.

“It looks like a building of stone.”

“Exactly!”

“If there are others, or if it is one of a town, they are hidden behind
the trees.”

“So I believe. Wendel has told us truly. Let us go down there at once.
How far is it?”

“Ten miles.”

“Yes, all of that.”

Hastily the two explorers made their way back to the Scorcher. It needed
but a glance for the others to see at once that something was up.

“Wha’ am de word. Marse Frank?” asked Pomp, eagerly.

“Move!” replied Frank. “We shall go ahead, and I believe important
discoveries are near at hand.”




                               CHAPTER V.
                            THE RUINED CITY.


All received this word with a cry of joy.

In a few moments the Scorcher was descending to the next plateau. Here a
revelation was accorded the adventurers as Frank had promised.

For there, just beyond the fringe of trees, was indeed visible quite
plainly the white ruins of a town.

It was surrounded by a demolished wall of stone, resembling marble. All
about this were trees of a pomegranate and mulberry type or species. It
was plain that great gardens had once surrounded the town.

The buildings were all shattered and riven, as if by the force of an
earthquake or a bombardment. It was evil dent that the city was
destroyed by some force as yet unknown.

And the inhabitants—were they destroyed also?

With great interest and powerful curiosity the voyagers watched the
ruined city as they drew nearer to it.

A long, level prairie now alone intervened. To cross this did not
require a long space of time.

But the Scorcher now struck into what looked like a sort of road,
leading down to the town gates. Part of the way it was fringed with a
hedge of firs.

And at intervals the ruins of strange-looking houses were seen upon
either hand. The adventurers regarded them wonderingly.

On ran the Scorcher at a fair rate of speed.

And it followed that very soon the machine crossed a causeway of white
stone and rolled between two high pillars into the main street of the
town.

It was noted then how curiously the place was laid out.

The entire town described a circle; all the streets beginning at the
gate and extending in circles about a hollow or amphitheater in the
center.

It was a strong reminder of a coliseum, the houses occupying the
position of the seats. In the center of the public square, or circle,
rather, there had stood a tall shaft of stone, fully one hundred feet
high.

Doubtless this was a monument, commemorating some heroic deed or mighty
occasion. In this sentiment, at least, the Polar people resembled their
civilized neighbors beyond the ice belt.

“By Jove!” exclaimed Randall, “these people were the equal of the
ancient Aztecs. Their architecture shows that.”

“They may be our equals,” said Frank. “We have as yet no means of
proving the contrary.”

“That is very true.”

There were some obstruction in the street of the Polar city, but the
Scorcher managed to pick its way along without great difficulty.

Not until the central part of the city was reached did the machine stop.
Then Frank stepped out on deck, and cried:

“Well, friends, here we are. We have accomplished the great feat of
crossing the Antarctic barrier and invading the Polar Continent. We have
discovered a ruined town, and evidence that this was once an inhabited
region, though now abandoned. Let us, therefore, set foot on Polar soil
and devote some time to exploration.”

Cheers followed this declaration, and all leaped over the rail.

There was little need of guarding the Scorcher, for no living foe was in
the vicinity. Barney and Pomp began a frolic on the green turf, while
Frank, with Randall and the sailor, began the exploration.

They scrambled over the ruins of the building, and were impressed with
the fact that their architecture had been of a tasty kind.

“These people were not savages,” declared Frank. “They understood the
arts. Look!”

He picked up an object which all saw at once was a helmet or head-dress.
It was basinet shaped, and of a strange kind of bronze-like metal.

“What is the metal?” asked Randall, as he examined it. Then he gave a
sharp cry.

“What is the matter?” asked Frank.

“Do you know what kind of metal this is?” asked Randall.

“No.”

Frank knew that the other was an expert metallurgist. So he awaited the
announcement with interest.

“Well,” said Randall, slowly, “its chief component part is gold!”

“Gold!”

“Yes, also in the alloy is silver and iron. That proves that these
people knew the use of metals. It proves more!”

“Well?”

“That gold is one of the common ores of this region.” Frank and Wendel
gave a start. Their eyes shone.

How easy it is to arouse the gold fever in the human composition! It is
as natural as breathing.

But Frank regained himself.

“That adds to the value of our discovery!” he cried. “At no distant day,
doubtless, gold-seekers will forsake Australia and Africa for the Polar
mines.”

“Exactly! I have no doubt that rich deposits exist here!”

“Well,” said Frank, “they are of little use to us just now. Ha! What
have we here?”

As he spoke the young inventor had taken a step forward.

At his feet yawned a deep pit. There were stone stairs descending into
it.

What seemed like a crypt, or underground chambers, were doubtless below.
This reflection was enough.

Exploration was the order, so Frank hesitated no longer but prepared to
descend into the place.

Randall waited curiously for Frank to descend. Then he followed.

They stood in a little square chamber, apparently cut out of solid rock.
Beyond was a narrow passage, but black as Erebus.

“What is it?” asked Randall. “It looks like a tomb.”

“And so it may be,” agreed Frank, “or perhaps a treasure vault. At any
rate, we will explore it.”

He stepped into the dark passage, but before he had proceeded ten feet
he abruptly halted.

In the darkness ahead there blazed two fearful balls of fire.
Instinctively Frank shivered.

He knew that some fierce animal—a panther or wolf—had made this hole its
den.

He was face to face with the creature, and it was by no means a
despicable foe or an enviable situation. In this dark place it would not
be easy to defend one’s self.

A deep, hoarse growl came from the depths. Then Frank gasped:

“A bear!”

He retreated backward precipitately, hoping to reach the outer chamber,
but the glaring eyeballs were close upon him.

Frank had for weapons only a revolver and a knife.

He drew the revolver and fired point blank at the eyes. Before he could
fire again it was struck from his grasp by a huge paw, and he had to
fall back on his knife.

Another blow of the paw brought him to his knees, and he was obliged to
clinch with his foe.

Meanwhile Randall and Wendel had grasped the situation.

The former tried to drag Frank from the dark passage, and in the
struggle both man and bear emerged. This was a better chance for Frank.

The bear was of a monster black species. Frank was driving the knife
into its carcass, but it seemed to have no effect.

It was Wendel who saved the day.

He luckily had his rifle with him. Rushing forward he placed it at the
bear’s head and fired point blank.

The ball crashed through bruin’s brain and ended the struggle. Frank
detached himself from the brute’s embrace.

By a miracle he was comparatively unharmed, having only a few hard
scratches to show for his struggle.

But it was a close call.

“By Jupiter!” gasped Randall, “I thought you were done for that time,
Frank.”

“I owe my life to you,” said Frank, gripping Wendel’s hand.

“I am glad of that, mate,” replied the sailor, heartily.

“Do you think there are any more bears in there?” asked Randall.

“No,” replied Frank, “but it is well to use precaution. Let us proceed
with care.”

Once more they crept into the passage. In a few moments they stood in a
gloom-filled chamber.

At one end of this was another pit and stairs. They evidently led down
to deeper regions.

It was too dark to proceed farther at haphazard. So Frank turned about
and said:

“If one of us can go back to the Scorcher and get an electric lantern I
think we can go farther.”

“I’ll do that,” agreed Wendel, and away he went.

It was not long before he returned with the lantern. This had a powerful
burner and lit up the subterranean chambers fully.

Down the second flight of steps the explorers now proceeded. A
remarkable discovery was in store for them.

Down and down a winding way they went.

Soon it was seen that the walls of the passage were of natural
conformation and that they were really in a cavern.

It trended downward for what seemed an interminable distance. Then
suddenly a startling surprise was accorded all.

For they had emerged into a mighty, high-domed cavern chamber. Its
limits could not be seen.

But it was nearly occupied with a mighty subterranean lake. The water
flashed in the lantern’s glare.

“An underground sea!” cried Randall. “What a wonder!”

“And access to it by the Polar people,” mused Frank. “What was their
purpose?”

“Perhaps to get water or to fish,” suggested Wendel. “Eh! what kind of a
craft is this?”

As he spoke he bent down over a sort of coracle which lay in the sands.
Paddles were against the thwarts just as it had been left by its former
owners.

The little craft was examined and found to be quite staunch.

But just at that moment Randall gripped Frank’s arm.

“Look!” he whispered.

He pointed across the domed lake. There was a strange leaping, fantastic
glare of light. It appeared at intervals and was intensely weird and
fanciful in its shapes.




                              CHAPTER VI.
                            ACROSS THE LAKE.


Of course, the cupidity and curiosity of the explorers were aroused.

Not one but had a keen desire to know what the meaning of the light was.
So after a few moments Randall said:

“That beats me! What is it?”

“Give it up,” said Wendel.

“We ought to investigate it. Eh, Frank?”

“That’s what we’re here for,” replied the young inventor.

He stepped into the coracle. It would hold three easily.

A moment later they were boldly sallying forth upon the waters of the
underground lake. Frank, however, was very careful to keep his bearings,
leaving the lantern to mark the spot they had just left.

Wendel and Randall used the paddles, while Frank steered. Thus they made
their way over the underground waters.

They were placid, even dead, for there was no breeze to ripple their
surface.

But there was another power, and it was felt before the voyagers were
half across.

Suddenly the coracle began to wabble and turn. Randall and the sailors
pulled harder at the paddles.

But it did no good. The little craft began to rock most violently.

“What in the deuce is the matter?” asked Randall, excitedly. “What ails
the boat?”

“I think the waves are rising in the lake,” said Wendel. “Yes, there is
really some commotion under us, mates.”

“Right!” cried Frank, as he balanced the coracle. “Keep steady, or we’ll
be over.”

It seemed as if the boat had become a boiling cauldron.

The water foamed and surged and pitched until the three voyagers were
certain that they would go to the bottom.

But they did not.

A distant, sullen, booming sound was heard, like rumbling thunder. Then
there was a muffled explosion, a hissing cloud of steam surged across
the lake, and then all became quiet again.

The coracle rested safely once more upon the placid waters.

Then the voyagers collected their wits. Light from the electric lantern
yet shone obliquely across the little craft, and in the water Frank saw
some small objects floating.

He put his hand over the thwarts and picked up one.

It was cold and slimy and slid out of his hand into the bottom of the
boat.

“What’s that?” cried Randall.

“A fish!” ejaculated Frank. “The water is alive with them. Something has
killed them.”

This was true.

The surface of the lake was covered with the dead fish. Surely some
internal convulsion had taken place.

The red fire at the other end of the lake could now be seen plainer than
ever.

It was like looking into a veritable Hades, or through the yawning jaws
of a red-hot furnace. The voyagers gazed wonder-struck at it.

Then they paddled on slowly.

“Shall we go ahead, mates?” asked Wendel.

“Why not?” ejaculated Randall.

“Nothing, only if another whirl of the waters took place again like that
we might have to swim.”

“I am willing to risk it,” said Randall, looking at Frank.

“It will probably not occur again,” declared the young inventor.

“Then we will go ahead.”

“Yes.”

Randall and the sailor gave way at the paddles. The coracle sped on and
every moment drew nearer the fiery furnace.

Then it was seen that the cavern here enlarged into a mighty, yawning
pit, which was filled with smoke and flames, and from which arose
fearful fumes.

It was evidently a volcano.

A gallery ran from the lake shore to this pit and divided the two by
about fifty feet of solid rock. The heat of the furnace was intense.

But the voyagers did not hesitate to draw the coracle up on the shore
and walk over to the fiery pit.

It covered fully an acre. High above it was a funnel-like shaft. All in
that instant Frank guessed the truth.

“By Jove!” he exclaimed, “I know where we are!”

“Eh!” exclaimed Randall.

“We are in the volcano!”

“The volcano?”

“Yes.”

“Impossible!”

“Not so! If you remember, we have traveled a good ways underground, and
it has carried us without a doubt under the plateaus and straight into
the heart of the mountain. Probably this is only one of half a hundred
or more internal craters.”

The logic of this assumption was at once obvious.

Certainly in no other way could this crater of fire be explained. For a
time the three men were silent.

They studied the strange scene awhile, then Randall said:

“Well, Frank, what shall we do about it?”

“Follow me,” said the young inventor.

Frank led the way around the gallery. It trended upward, and soon shot
off at right angles into a serpentine course beyond the wall of the pit
of fire.

It was as if this corkscrew-like passage had been bored for just such a
purpose as it was now used. Frank led the way.

It was like ascending a winding stair in a tower. But before they had
gone far Randall asked:

“Where are we going, Frank?”

“To follow this passage to its end,” was the reply.

“Where do you think it will end?”

“I don’t know. It may come out on top of the volcano.”

“But—is there no danger of losing our way?”

“I think not.”

“And if we come out on top of the mountain, shall we return this way?”

“We shall see.”

As they advanced now, the situation became one filled with terrors.

It was as if they were in a literal pandemonium. All sorts of strange
sounds were about them.

There was a rumble of thunder, the gurgle of molten liquid and the hiss
of steam. Then terrific explosions came with fearful echoes through the
cavernous depths.

It was sufficient to strike fear into a strong man’s bosom. For a time
even Frank Reade, Jr., himself was a trifle daunted.

“Is it quite safe, Frank?” asked Randall, with some apprehension.
“Suppose a stream of lava should come tearing down this passage?”

“It would cook us,” said Frank, imperturbably, “but we won’t anticipate
that.”

“Ugh!” exclaimed Wendel, “I think we’d better get out of here as soon as
possible!”

“And so we will,” declared Frank, “but this is a watercourse. I don’t
believe we need fear lava. We ought to be near the summit.”

But they toiled on for another hour. Then, however, they emerged into
the open air.

The transition was for a moment surprising. Even the semi-gloom of the
Antarctic night was dazzling.

But they were high in the air, and a mighty panorama of country lay
before their gaze.

To the northward, shrouded in dull gloom, was the barrier of ice and
snow; to the south, the Polar Continent, in its green hue.

To the east, the great pass, and west, the line of mighty craters, which
belched at intervals their fiery contents a thousand feet into the air.

It was a spectacle which literally appalled the adventurers. They were
truly on a new continent in an unexplored world.

Then Randall exclaimed:

“How is it, Frank? Shall we stay here long?”

“No,” replied Frank. “I have accomplished my object. Let us now return
to the Scorcher.”

Randall was about to re-enter the downward passage, but Frank cried:

“Not that way!”

“What?”

“We will not return that way.”

“Why not?”

“It is too far, and too perilous. We can just slide down the mountain
side here easier.”

“But we left the electric lantern on the shore of that lake——”

“Hang the lantern,” cried Frank. “We’ll let it stay there. We’ll not go
back for it now, at least.”

“All right,” cried Randall, “I’m more than agreeable. Let’s slide on
down.”

And down the crater side they proceeded to travel. Leaping from rock to
rock they went rapidly down.

Soon the plateau below was reached. Then they saw the Scorcher dimly in
the distance down the valley.

It was quite a long tramp down over the steeps to where the machine was.
Barney and Pomp were not in sight.

When the three explorers reached the Scorcher after threading their way
among the ruins they were surprised to find the two jokers missing.

What had become of them?

The truth was, they had gone upon a little exploring expedition of their
own.

When Frank and his companions disappeared in the old ruin, the Celt
turned a handspring on the pavement, and cried:

“Be me sowl, naygur, phwat do yez say av we have a little exploration av
our own?”

“I’se wif yo’, I’sh. Wha’ am we gwine fo’ to explore?”

“The whole town, yez ignoramus! Shure, it’s loikely we may foind some
valuable relics ourselves. Thin Misther Frank will be afther thankin’ us
fer thim!”

Pomp hesitated.

“Wha’ do yo’ fink ob leavin’ de Scorcher?” he asked.

“Shure, that will be all roight. Don’t yez have no fears about that, at
all, at all!”

“A’right, I go yo’ I’sh. Jes’ yo’ lead de way an’ I follers on!”

“Which it’s proper yez should, considerin’ me superior advantages.”
declared Barney, in his puffiest way. “Do yez see that big heap av
sthone down yonder?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I believe that’s some koind av a ruined temple or the loikes, an’
we’ll thry that first off!”

“A’right, I’sh. Yo’ go ahead.”

In a few moments they were among the ruins of a huge building, which
Barney said might have been a temple.

They passed among a heap of fallen pillars, and just as the others had
done found a descending stairway.




                              CHAPTER VII.
                    BARNEY’S AND POMP’S ADVENTURES.


“Phwere the divil do yez suppose that goes to?” cried Barney, glancing
somewhat timorously down into the place.

“Golly! I cudn’t guess so hard a one as dat, I’sh.”

“Be me sowl, I belave there’s a big treasure hid away down there! Who
knows but that murtherin’ ould spalpeen, Captain Kidd, left his gould in
this spot?”

Pomp’s eyes glistened.

“We ain’t gwine to find out unless we tries it,” he said.

“Yez are roight, naygur. Jist climb down there an’ take a look about
whoile I load up me pistol.”

“Yo’ go yo’sef!” sniffed the <DW54>. “Yo’ am de leadah. Kain’t play no
tricks on dis chile!”

“Begorra, I’m not afther thryin’ to do that,” cried Barney, indignantly.
“Go an wid yez fer a big coward. Shure, it’s afraid yez are!”

“I ain’ afraid.”

“Yez are!”

“Youse ’fraid yo’sef!”

This was enough for Barney. He gave the <DW54> a look of withering
contempt, and then ventured down into the place.

Down the steps he blundered and soon found himself at the bottom of
them. A dim light showed him the way through a long corridor.

This was paved and extended far beyond the range of his vision. The Celt
halted a moment.

“Be me sowl, we kin do moighty little widout a lanthern, naygur. Wud yez
go back and get one?”

“A’right,” agreed the <DW54>.

So back to the Scorcher went Pomp. He soon returned with a lantern.

This aided the two explorers very materially. They were able to easily
see their way now.

Along the passage they proceeded and came to another flight of steps. As
they descended these ’Barney remarked: “Shure, they seem to be a bit
shaky, naygur. Luk out fer thet lower one.”

“A’right, I’sh!”

In fact, it did not look to be a difficult thing to tumble the whole
pile of masonry down. However, the two explorers now entered another
passage.

Suddenly they came to a curious niche in the wall of stone. Barney
scanned it a moment carefully in the light of the lantern.

Then he said:

“On my honor, naygur, this is a big dure in the wall.”

“A door, yo’ say?” asked the <DW54>.

“Yis.”

“A stone door? I don’t see it.”

“Begorra, yez will!”

Barney put his hand in the niche and began to pull upon a metal bar
which he saw there. It was consumed with rust, and crumbled in his
grasp.

But the pressure was sufficient to cause a huge slab of stone several
feet square to move out of place, leaving an aperture.

This was large enough to admit the body of a man. Barney flashed his
lantern rays into it.

The sight which he beheld gave him a chill.

A small apartment hewed out of the solid rock was seen. Its walls were
damp and moldy, but what transfixed the two explorers with horror was
the fact that the place was a literal charnel house.

There, exposed to their view, were four human skeletons. They were in
various positions against the crumbling wall.

For an instant Barney thought that the apartment might be a tomb.

But second thought told him better than this. The position of the
skeletons disproved the theory.

“Mither presarve us!” gasped the Celt in horror. “Phwat do yez say to
that?”

“Golly fo’ glory!” echoed Pomp, “dey shut dem po’ chaps in dar to die!”

“Be me sowl, that was a hard fate fer thim!” cried Barney. “An’ Hiven
rist their sowls! Shure, whoiver do yez suppose they cud av been?”

“Huh! I done fink dat dis was a big prison, I’sh, an’ dat dese were some
ob de prisoners.”

“Av coorse, yez blockhead! But who may the poor divils be? Howld the
lanthern, an’ I’ll be afther takin’ a bit av a look at thim.”

With which Barney crawled into the place.

All raiment which the dead men might have worn had fallen to decay.
There seemed nothing left but the bones.

But of a sudden Barney’s keen eye caught some lines in the black surface
of the stone wall. They were scratched quite deep with some sharp
instrument.

To the Celt’s surprise they were in legible English, and thus he read
them;

                  *       *       *       *       *

                                                        “July 10th. 18—.

“Heaven have mercy upon our souls, and should this ever meet the gaze of
civilized beings, pity us.

“We sailed from Montevideo in January, after Southern seals. Nipped in
an ice-patch, our good ship, the Hester, went to the bottom. For months
we wandered about the accursed ice country, until finally we discovered
this Polar land, free from ice and snow. But we were surrounded by the
Polar people, whose traditions forbade the coming among them of any
being beyond the ice belt.

“So we were condemned to imprisonment and death by starvation. We are
confined in this awful hole to die. There is no hope of rescue, no
chance for life. We must die. Already the awful shadow of the eternal is
descending upon us. Our names are:

 “John Fenton, Shipmaster.
 “Alec Smythe, Mate.
 “Jed Manson, Seaman.
 “Pierre Martin, seaman apprentice.

“I, John Fenton, scrawl these lines. This is all we can leave behind us.
Heaven rest our souls, for we are buried alive; lost forever! Farewell
to earth and friends. Requiescat in pace.

                                             “JOHN FENTON. Salem. Mass.”

                  *       *       *       *       *

Barney read all this aloud, and then he and Pomp shivered as they
regarded the skeletons.

“Golly!” gasped the <DW53>. “Dat am do mos’ orful fing I eber heern tell
oh! Come out oh dar, I’sh! Lot’s get out ob dis place!”

“Divil a bit until I’ve found out if there are any more av the same
koind here.” declared the Celt.

And he went on down the passage. His quest was not unrewarded. There
were other cells, and in some of them were skeletons.

But in no other place did he find a record. Also, the conformation of
the skulls satisfied him that these victims were doubtless criminals of
the Polar nation, and not civilized men.

These vaults were doubtless part of a great prison. They extended a long
distance underground.

But the two explorers soon tired of the quest, and decided to get out of
the grewsome place as quickly as possible.

“Golly, I’se seen nuff ob dis place,” declared Pomp. “I’se ready fo’ to
get a breaf ob fresh air.”

“Cum on, then,” said Barney, “shure, we’ll have something to tell
Misther Frank, anyway!”

“Dat am right!”

So they set out along the corridor. But when they reached the foot of
the shaky, stone staircase they were confronted with a horrible
discovery.

It had caved in, and a section of the wall also yielding, the entire
passage was closed.

They were shut off from the outside world by a depth of earth and rocks
which they could not easily calculate. It was a stunning reflection.

They might never escape!

For a moment neither could speak.

“Gor’ a’mighty!” finally ejaculated Pomp. “We’se in fo’ it now!”

“Be me sowl, it looks loike it!”

“Shuah’s you’se bo’n, we’se buried alibe ’long wif de res’ ob dese
people!”

Barney had turned a grayish pallor.

“Bejabers, Misther Frank will be afther gettin’ us out,” he declared.

“Marse Frank neber fin’ out whar we gwine ter; we’se in de soup, yo’ kin
bet!”

Trembling and faint, the two jokers sank down onto the damp pavement.
Both were plucky, keen-witted fellows, and they tried to think.

Finally Barney rose.

“Wha’ am yo’ gwine to do, I’sh?”

“Begorra, I’m goin’ ter thry an’ dig me way out av this,” declared the
Celt.

“Dig?”

“Yis.”

“A’right; I’se wif yo’.”

They had no spade or pick; but they had strong hands, and soon got to
work. Their efforts were not without avail.

The earth was coarse and gravelly, and much easier displaced than as if
it had been solid dirt.

In a very short time they had cleared quite a space in the heap of
debris. Then they came upon two large slabs of rock, a part of the stone
staircase.

However, beneath their most intense exertions these rocks were moved
aside and they fell to digging again.

It seemed as if they had been in the place for an eternity, and they
were getting exhausted without seeming to be any nearer the outer
passage than ever, when Barney suddenly stopped work and began to
listen.

Pomp looked up in surprise.

“Wha’ am de mattah, I’sh?” he asked.

“Bejabers, I belave there’s some wan digging beyant us,” he declared.

“Yo’ does?”

“Yes, I do.”

Then they fell to listening.

                  *       *       *       *       *

When Frank and Randall and the sailor reached the Scorcher and were
unable to find any trace of Barney and Pomp, they were not a little
alarmed.

They shouted and fired their pistols, but no answer came.

“That is very odd!” exclaimed Frank. “Where the deuce can they be?”

“Can anything have befallen them?” asked Randall.

“That I am unable to answer. I certainly hope not.”

“With due respect, sir,” said Wendel, “perhaps they have gone off on a
little cruise of their own and missed their course.”

“I believe you have the right of it,” agreed Frank. “We must look them
up, or track them if we can.”

“Could we follow their trail in this hard soil?” asked Randall.

“We will try.”

With this the quest began. As good fortune had it, Randall found his way
quite accurately to the staircase in the demolished prison.

In the dust on the steps were the mark of footprints.

“We have found them, Frank!” he cried. “Here are the footprints!”

In a moment the young inventor was on the spot and closely examining the
marks. He was at once satisfied that the trail was found.




                             CHAPTER VIII.
                        A GEOLOGICAL PHENOMENON.


There were the footprints of two men just as they descended the stairs.
But there were no return marks.

“They’re down there yet,” declared Frank, positively.

Randall looked at him keenly.

“Is this another entrance to the volcano?” he asked.

The young inventor shook his head.

“I think not,” he said, “though what should detain them down there I do
not understand.”

“Well, suppose we go down?”

“Certainly.”

The three men went quickly down the staircase. They were soon in the
passage which had been followed by Barney and Pomp.

But they did not follow it far. Their progress was checked. A great wall
of earth and stone confronted them.

At once the truth flashed upon Frank.

“A cave-in!” he declared. “They are imprisoned!”

Randall was deadly pale as he turned to Frank.

“My soul! You don’t think they are under that debris?”

“Let us pray not!”

“What shall we do?”

“There is but one thing!”

Frank threw off his coat. Then he turned to the stairs.

“Where are you going?” asked Randall.

“After shovels and picks. We must do some hard digging. I shall not
leave here until I have brought them out dead or alive!”

“Amen!” cried Randall. “I am with you, Frank!”

In less time than it takes to tell it the tools were brought and work
begun. And it was at this juncture that Barney and Pomp heard their
deliverers.

At once they grasped the truth, and Barney joyously cried:

“Whurroo! we’re goin’ to git out of here, naygur, shure. It’s Misther
Frank afther us!”

Then the two imprisoned fellows went to work like beavers. In a short
while they were able to shout and be heard on the other side.

The rest was easy.

Before long they crawled out of their captivity, and none too soon,
either, for the air was getting extremely foul and dangerous.

But soon they were above ground and safe. It was a joyful moment for
all.

Further exploration of the ruined town was made, but nothing of great
interest was discovered, and finally Frank concluded to go on. So all
went on board the Scorcher, and it rolled away across the Polar country.

Everywhere was that same desolate, abandoned appearance. What had become
of the Polar people, it was not easy to guess.

Cities and towns to the number of a dozen were encountered in the next
week. Then, the explorers came to a high mountain range, which Frank
declared marked exactly the locality of the South Pole.

It must have been ten or twelve thousand feet in height, and was all of
solid granite.

Sheer from the green plains the mountain walls rose to a dizzy height.
It was a stupendous sight.

Nowhere did they seem possible of ascent. But as he studied them an idea
occurred to Frank.

What was on the other side of them?

Was there a fertile region like this, or was it a desert waste? Who
could say that the mysterious disappearance of the Polar people was here
capable of explanation?

Perhaps they bad abandoned the region this side of the range for a land
of milk and honey on the other. Frank had a powerful desire to see what
was on the other side of that impenetrable and insurmountable wall.

But he saw no easy way of scaling it. It was shut in on both sides by an
equal wall, extending for over a hundred miles in both directions.

Mystery—mystery! This was in the very air of the abandoned country. He
was unable to solve it.

The Scorcher traveled along the wall for several days. But there was no
break which would allow the machine to cross it.

“Well, I’m beat,” muttered the young inventor at last. “This beats all
the puzzles I ever attempted.”

“It’s a mighty curious part of the world, mates,” declared Wendel.

“I agree with you,” said Frank, “but there must be some explanation of
the mystery.”

And he continued to grope for it. But the days passed and he was no
nearer success than ever.

Meanwhile the Antarctic night was wearing on.

While the sky remained clear of clouds the semi-gloom of the landscape
was not bad. But when clouds obscured the heavens, then at times the
darkness was most intense.

At such times it was often necessary to abandon the quest and wait for
the darkness to pass.

The searchlight, of course, would dispel the gloom, but as it would be
slow work pursuing research at such a time, Frank suspended all
operations.

And thus time wore on.

But thrilling events were in store.

One day the Scorcher rested at the base of the high mountain wall. Frank
and Randall had left her for a walk over the green turf.

Randall was an expert geologist, and had spent much time in examining
the strata of the region.

Now, as they strolled along, he cast his gaze upward critically along
the great rock wall. Suddenly he came to a halt.

“Frank,” he said, “I think I have hit upon a discovery.”

“Eh!” exclaimed the young inventor.

“It is true, and if my theories prove correct, it is a most important
one.”

“What is it?”

Randall pointed up to several distinct lines of various heights on the
mountain wall.

“Do you see those lines?”

“Yes.”

“The highest one is fully two hundred feet.”

“That is true.”

“Well, have you never seen lines like those before?”

Frank studied the face of the cliff a moment.

Then he said:

“Yes, I think I have. They look like high water marks upon cliffs at the
seashore.”

“Just so. Now, if they are water marks, it must mean that there have
been times when this whole basin, this entire Polar country, has been
under water.”

Frank was astounded.

“At the glacial period?” he asked.

“Glacial period be hanged! Within a hundred years, more or less.”

“You don’t mean it?”

The two men gazed at each other. Frank looked incredulous, but Randall
was convinced.

“Mark you,” resumed the geologist, “I have closely examined the drift
and strata of this region. All point to this conclusion. Also that the
basin has been occupied by water at different intervals. What I mean, is
that the presence of water has been periodical.”

Frank rubbed his eyes.

“In that case——”

“The place may become submerged again, and I believe that the period is
not far distant. If my hypothesis is correct,” continued the geologist,
“we have a very logical explanation of the abandonment of this country
by its inhabitants.”

Frank was so overcome by the astounding force of this declaration that
for a time he could not speak.

After some thought he said:

“You have certainly hit upon a logical idea, Randall. But if it is true,
where does this flood come from, and how would the people know it?”

Randall pointed to the distant column of smoke rising from the volcano.

“Do you see that?” he asked. “It means that this entire region is
governed by volcanic forces. Now, the action of the internal forces, of
which we know little, may be capable of bringing a vast volume of water
periodically to the surface from subterranean basins. The pressure would
be sufficient. Synonymous with certain actions of yonder volcano, this
beautiful land of promise is flooded to the brim.”

Frank gazed keenly at Randall. He had not given him credit for so much
penetration.

“And that is why this country has been abandoned?”

“Just so! It is easy to see how the people could tell when danger
threatened. The eruptions of the volcano are doubtless periodical. The
Polar people knew just when to abandon the valley.”

“Whew!” exclaimed Frank. “Then, according to that, it is apt to become
flooded at any time now!”

“Just so.”

“Randall, you are keen.”

“Pshaw! It only requires a little study. Do you see that little rivulet
trickling out from under the mountain wall?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that was not there yesterday.”

“Eh?”

“It is true!”

Even as he spoke, Randall gave an exclamation. He pointed to a patch of
turf near, and whispered:

“Look—look! You cannot want better evidence.”

Frank gazed in the direction indicated, and both beheld a most
astounding thing.

The little patch of turf had begun to throb and heave. Soon dew-like
moisture was seen on the blades.

Then up shot a little bulb of boiling water. It momentarily grew larger.

The turf was gently thrust aside and disintegrated, while a tiny stream
flowed away down the incline, making its own course and momentarily
growing larger.

A spring had burst into life in that moment!

It was wonderful!

“That is only one of many,” declared Randall. “You shall see.”

Deep in the center of the Polar valley was a lake.

It was true that this was steadily rising above its banks. All this was
prima facie evidence.

Astonished, Frank watched the phenomenon.

Then he turned and swept a glance up at the mountain wall.

“It seems to me that our position, then, is one of peril.” he said.
“What is to save us if the valley fills as you aver? We would be drowned
like rats in a trap.”




                              CHAPTER IX.
                             ON AN ISLAND.


“You are right,” agreed Randall, “and it will not do to tempt fate.”

“What shall we do?”

“We must leave here.”

“Where shall we go?”

“Back to the mountains. From there I believe we can watch the whole
wonderful phenomenon.”

“All right,” agreed Frank, with alacrity. “It shall be as you say; but
one thing puzzles me.”

“Well?”

“What has become of the people who abandoned this doomed country?”

“It is easy enough to guess. Doubtless they have made their way to other
parts of the Antarctic, as yet undiscovered by any one.”

“Before I leave this land of wonders I must find them,” declared Frank.
“I must have a look at them.”

“I don’t see why we cannot accomplish that,” declared Randall. “Then we
will return to the other end of the valley, will we?”

“By all means.”

In a few moments more Frank and Randall were aboard the Scorcher.

They said nothing to the others of the subject uppermost in their minds.
But Frank started the machine at once back up the valley.

Scarcely twenty miles had been made, however, when a strange, grayish
bank of clouds began to rise upward toward the zenith.

Thus far our adventurers had not experienced a storm of any violence.
There had been only some slight rains.

But the moment Frank saw the strangely tinted clouds he became alarmed.

“On my word, Randall,” he said, “I believe we are going to have a rough
storm.”

The geologist’s face was grave. He studied the sky a moment. Then he
swept the landscape.

“Which is the highest point of land near here?” he asked.

“I think it is yonder hill,” said Frank, pointing to an elevation about
five miles distant.

“How far is it over there?”

“Five miles.”

“Well, I think we had better make for it. If there should come a
cloudburst or even a heavy fall of rain in these lowlands we might get
swamped.”

“I believe you are right,” agreed Frank. “We will do that.”

He changed the course of the Scorcher at once. Five miles was quickly
covered, and they reached the hill.

The great, angry cloud had swept up to the zenith. A blackness most
intense was settling down over the landscape.

“Ugh!” exclaimed Wendel, “we’re going to have a bit of a blow, mates.”

“Bejabers, av that’s so, I’m afther thinkin’ we’re on high enough land
to git the whole benifit av it.”

“That’s true, Barney,” said Frank, “but it’s better than getting
drowned.”

“Phwat’s that, sor?” asked the Celt in surprise. “Shure, there’s no
chance av that, is there?”

Frank saw that he had put his foot into it, to speak metaphorically, and
was decided now to make a clean breast of the matter.

So he called Randall up, and said:

“I think it would be wisest to explain our situation and our fears in
full to the others.”

“Well,” agreed Randall, “I guess you are right.”

With this, Frank called the others up and told them the truth. It caused
them some surprise, but Wendel said:

“Well, mates, all of our family were seafaring men, and all have found a
grave in the sea but me. I don’t expect to be an exception.”

“Bejabers, the naygur an’ mesilf are good swimmers! Eh, naygur!”

“Yo, kin bet we is, I’sh!”

“Very good!” said Frank, with a laugh. “Then we need fear nothing. Yet I
believe we had better turn the machine head on to the wind and trig the
wheels well.”

This was done. And now all awaited, with some apprehension and
eagerness, the coming of the storm.

As is usual with tempests, it was not long in coming. Over the volcano
it swept, bringing down into the valley a vortex of ashes and soot.

The approach of the storm was like the bellowing of a thousand wild
lions. In the utter darkness its coming could only be felt, not seen.

It struck the Scorcher with terrific force. For a few moments it seemed
as if the machine was in the clutches of destroying fiends.

Then the wind passed as quickly as it came, and the rain followed.

Torrents of water surged about the machine and over the deck. It seemed
as if it would be engulfed.

For hours the storm raged.

Then, in a lull, Frank went on deck and turned on the searchlight. The
sight revealed was startling.

The electric light fell glaringly bright upon flashing waters. All about
the Scorcher, as far as the light could penetrate, was a mass of
water—an inland sea.

Randall clutched Frank’s arm.

“It has come!” he said. “My hypothesis was correct.”

“Eh!” exclaimed Frank, in dismay. “Then we’re in a fine trap.”

“That is, if the waters rise higher.”

“Yes, or if not.”

“Why?”

“We are imprisoned on an island made by the top of this hill. The waters
may not subside for a year. Nobody knows how long!”

This was the certain truth. The situation was certainly a most appalling
one.

But there was one source of comfort left. The rain was beginning to
subside.

In a short while the sky began to grow lighter, and soon the blackness
passed away. The valley became quite light.

Then the true position they were in was seen by the voyagers. Almost the
entire valley was one vast lake.

Only the higher land was exposed. In some places the water must have
been of considerable depth.

One thing was certain. It was impossible for the machine to travel
through it. The adventurers were anchored to the hilltop isle.

What was to be done?

Frank knew well that the water was rising all the while. It was a
desperate situation.

In the hold of the Scorcher there was stored a portable rubber boat. In
this all could doubtless have made their way to the higher land and
escaped.

But they would have been compelled to leave the Scorcher.

This would have been equivalent to signing a death warrant, and they
knew it well. So Frank did not accept the chance.

He stepped down from the Scorcher’s deck and walked about the hilltop.
At one end was a clump of giant pines.

And, as his eyes fell upon these mighty trees, a sudden, swift plan
suggested itself to him. He saw one forlorn chance.

But Frank Reade, Jr., was never the one to yield to despair. Scant as
the chance was, he decided to adopt it.

He went hurriedly back to the Scorcher.

“Come here, all of you!” he cried. “I have hit upon a plan.”

This was enough.

With alacrity all came forward. And now Frank unfolded his plan.

“Do you see those big pines?” he said. “Well, in them lies our chance.
If we can hew down enough of them to make a raft to float the Scorcher I
believe there is a chance for us!”

For a moment there was silence.

Then all gave a loud cheer.

“We’ll do it!” cried Randall. “Give us some axes. Come, boys! It is for
our lives we are working!”

Barney and Pomp ran to get axes. Wendel and Randall and even Frank
himself selected a tree.

The axes rang merrily in the soft wood, and steadily all worked, each
man at a tree.

In a comparatively short space of time five of the trees were down. Then
each set to work upon another.

But now that the trees were down the hardest part of the work began.
This was to trim the huge logs and bind them together for a raft.

But this was finally accomplished. The logs were firmly bound, two tiers
deep. This was reckoned sufficient to float the machine.

Then the Scorcher was run upon it. There was little time to spare.

The rise of the inland sea was so fast that already the water was up to
their knees as they worked. The Scorcher was secured to the raft.

Then all waited for the water to cover the top of the hill and float the
raft.

They had not long to wait.

It was already skimming over the highest point. The raft began to rise.

The voyagers had provided themselves with long poles to push the raft
off and propel it with. Soon it was afloat.

It required several hours of hard work to propel it to the upper end of
the lake or the <DW72> of the volcano.

Here, however, a landing place was found, and the Scorcher was run off
the raft upon terra firma.

A position was selected above the high water mark on the <DW72> of the
volcano. The eruption, somewhat singularly, had ceased altogether.

The reason for this was not apparent, but it was possible that the
rising of the waters had extinguished the internal fires.

The voyagers were engaged in watching the slow rising of the inland sea,
when suddenly a great cry came from Barney.

“Be me sowl, there’s a lot av the spalpeens up there among the rocks,”
he cried. “Shure, have an eye out fer thim, or they’ll be afther comin’’
down onto us!”

“Where are they?” cried Frank, springing to Barney’s side.

“Up there, sor!”

Frank was just in time to see that the Celt was right. A number of forms
were scrambling over a heap of bowlders far up on the crater’s side.

This was the first sign of human beings other than themselves in the
abandoned country. It is needless to say that all were excited.




                               CHAPTER X.
                         A STARTLING DISCOVERY.


No one doubted for a moment that the forms scrambling over the crater’s
side were really the Polar natives.

Frank picked up his rifle and cried:

“Come on, boys. Let’s have a look at those chaps.”

“Shall we go armed?” asked Randall.

“Of course. Men who have the nerve to confine white visitors in
underground vaults to die of starvation are certainly men to be strongly
dealt with.”

So Randall and Barney followed Frank up the mountain.

Pomp and the sailor remained to guard the Scorcher.

Up the crater ran the pursuers.

Yet they advanced cautiously, for they had no means of knowing what
manner of weapons the fugitives had.

But before the summit was reached Frank received a surprise. He saw four
men huddled behind a bowlder.

A voice in unmistakable English cried:

“For Heaven’s sake, mates, don’t blame us—we’re under orders!”

“Jack Mains, mate of the Pearl!” gasped Frank. “What on earth are you
doing here?”

“I swear, sir, it is not our fault. Captain’s orders!” declared the
Pearl’s mate, as he and his companions came forth.

“Your captain’s orders?” exclaimed Frank. “Where is he?”

“I—can’t say, sir. He went down into that valley. Maybe the water—you
can guess.”

The astonishment of all was great.

“And do you mean to tell me,” exclaimed Frank, “that your captain—that
Isaac Ward actually followed us hither?”

“I do, sir,” replied Mains, tremblingly.

“Where is the ship?”

“Deserted, sir. For all I know, back in the ice-pack, and not a soul on
board.”

“But,” exclaimed Frank, in sheer amazement, “what on earth impelled you
all to leave the ship?”

“Gold, sir.”

“Gold?”

“Yes, sir; Captain Ward thought you were down here after a great
treasure, sir, and wanted to claim a share.”

This was a revelation to Frank, and the others, too.

For a moment he was speechless.

“Well,” he said, finally, “that is the worst fool’s trick I ever heard
of. You say he left the ship to the mercy of the ice?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he went down into the valley?”

“Yes, sir; all went down there except me and my three friends here; we
stayed back.”

“My soul!” exclaimed Frank. “They have not returned. Then the flood
overtook them. This is the plain result of avarice.”

For a time all were silent. The four sailors looked wretched enough.

“We are nigh dead from starvation,” Mains said, finally.

“Then come with me,” said Frank, moving down the mountain side. “This is
a terrible affair!”

“God bless you, sir,” cried one of the sailors. “We will die for
you—only take us back to America.”

“Humph!” exclaimed Frank. “It looks mighty doubtful now whether any of
us get back or not.”

Back to the Scorcher they went, and Pomp gave the surviving sailors food
and drink.

Then the folly of Captain Ward’s move was dilated upon. The result was a
disappointment to Frank.

“I had intended remaining here for the waters to fall,” he said, “but
now all depends upon our reaching the Pearl before the ice-pack breaks
up. If we do not reach the ship in that time, we may give ourselves up
for lost.”

“And go to swell the number of explorers who have invaded this accursed
land never to return!” declared Randall.

There was certainly need of dispatch if the party was to reach the ship
before the pack should break.

It was a long, arduous trip back through the fiord. It would require
much time to make the trip.

Frank would have started at once, but he felt in duty bound to first
learn the fate of the captain and his men for a certainty. There was a
faint possibility, of course, that they had made their escape.

So a party was made up and sent along the mountain side. Frank and
Barney and Randall were the members of the party.

 Before he returned Frank was determined to accomplish one thing, and
this was to gain the summit of the southern mountain wall and take a
look at the country beyond.

They were well armed, for there was no telling what perils they might
encounter on the way. They struck out along the southern verge of the
crater.

Soon they were out of sight of the Scorcher among the huge bowlders.
Frank led the way.

But they had little idea of the character of the region through which
they were now compelled to travel.

It was fearfully rough and in places almost inaccessible.

They climbed along the mountain wall for hours and yet the southern end
of the valley looked an interminable distance away. Finally they sank
down from sheer exhaustion.

There was nothing for it but to camp on the spot, and this was done. In
a little pocket among the crags a sheltered spot was found.

They had brought some provisions with them and were enabled to make a
good meal. Then they stretched themselves out upon the ground and slept.

How long they slept they knew not, but when they awoke it was to find a
peculiar state of affairs. A heavy mist hung over the mountains and rain
was falling slowly.

It was evident that the storm was at hand, and for a moment Frank was
nonplussed. He knew the peril of their situation at once.

The difficulty was to proceed on their journey in the dense fog.

It would be almost impossible to tell where they were going. It was
impossible to get accurate bearings.

It would be just as difficult to find their way back to the Scorcher.
Here was a predicament.

What was to be done?

There seemed no other way than to remain where they were until after the
storm should pass. How long this would be it was impossible to guess.

Now, to Frank, this was especially irritating, for he knew that time was
valuable. He was exceedingly impatient.

And yet he was at a loss to know how to remedy the difficulty. There
seemed no way but to wait until the storm had passed.

It shut down now blacker than ever. Soon the mist lifted a trifle and
the rain fell harder.

Hours passed and they seemed like months. At length Frank could stand it
no longer.

“That settles it,” he cried. “We cannot do worse than stay here. Let us
make an effort to return.”

“And give up the expedition?” asked Randall.

“Yes; we are obliged to do that. If we can return in safety to the
Scorcher that will be all I will ask.”

“I’m with you, Frank,” agreed the geologist. “I think we’ve done our
best, and we had better return to the ship. Perhaps we can venture a
trip of exploration hither at some other time.”

“It will have to be so,” declared Frank.

“Be me sowl, I’m afther thinkin’ we’ll lose our way in this mist,” said
Barney, apprehensively.

“Oh, I think not,” said Randall. “What if we fired signal guns? Perhaps
those on board the Scorcher will hear us.”

This suggestion seemed not a bad one. So, as they wandered on through
the mist, Randall fired his rifle at intervals.

It was not long ere an answer came. It was a faint shot, and far in the
distance.

But it was enough.

It indicated the fact that the Scorcher was not beyond hearing. Frank
tried to locate the searchlight’s glare.

The sound of firing seemed to come from a point higher up the mountain
side, and the adventurers accordingly kept on in that direction.

At intervals Randall fired his gun, and the answer came. But one fact
impressed the trio curiously.

This was that the firing sounded more and more distant, though they were
going as the sound guided them directly toward it.

The meaning of this was not easy to understand.

Fainter and fainter grew the answering shots. Then Randall halted.

“We are certainly going in the wrong direction!” he declared. “Pretty
quick we won’t be able to hear those shots at all.”

“You are right,” agreed Frank. “It must be that the mist transfers the
sound to different points of the compass.”

“Begorra, we kin go no furder dis way, anyhow!” cried Barney, who was a
little in advance.

“How is that?” asked Frank.

“Shure, sor, there’s a steep place here, and a big hole. Will yez have a
look at it?”

Frank and Randall ran forward. At their feet yawned a deep abyss.

It was the crater.

They had climbed the cone to the very summit. There was little wonder
that the sounds of firing had grown so faint.




                              CHAPTER XI.
                          A SERIOUS ACCIDENT.


Frank now began to make more accurate calculations as to their exact
position.

The result was that the party was soon scrambling down the mountain side
and rapidly approaching the Scorcher, for the firing every moment grew
more distinct.

Suddenly a dull glow was seen through the mist. Frank gave a cry of joy.

“That is the searchlight,” he cried. “We shall soon be there!”

And his prediction was verified. After a hard scramble the Scorcher was
reached.

All were glad of this.

The expedition around the range had been a failure. The fate of Captain
Ward and his men remained unsolved.

But it was safe to assume that they had perished in the waters of the
inland sea. All were agreed upon this point.

Frank examined the barometer with some alarm.

“I’m afraid,” he said, “that if we do not make a move very quickly to
return to the Pearl that we will never get there.”

“That’s correct, mate,” declared Wendel. “I agree with ye. The winter
storms will block the fiord. If the ship stands the nipping the spring
thaw will carry her into the northward current and we shall never see
her again.”

“Enough!” cried Randall. “Why do we delay here, then?”

“I fear to start out in this deadly mist,” replied Frank.

“We must risk it!”

A long and earnest consultation was held.

Of course, there was no telling how long the mist would last. It might
disappear in a few hours: it might not do so for a week.

However, it was finally decided to make the attempt.

The searchlight was trimmed to its fullest power, and the Scorcher began
to feel its way down the mountain side.

Mains and the three sailors rode on the deck, for there was not room for
all in the cabin comfortably.

For hours the Scorcher made its uncertain way down the mountain to the
plain, and the pass which would take them into the fiord.

It was not an easy matter to thus fumble along in the darkness. There
were innumerable perils.

But Frank kept the machine on its course as well as he could, and
exercised all due caution.

At length the pass was reached.

Here the mist lessened and it was easier to see the way. The machine
threaded its way through the defile with greater ease.

And when its end was reached the plain and river extending to the
ice-belt lay clear of mist or cloud.

The storm was peculiar to the volcanic region alone. Frank was even
enabled to dispense with the searchlight.

A chill wind blew from the north, and the voyagers were obliged to wrap
themselves up warmly. The machine ran along the banks of the river.

The spirits of all began to rise. Even the seamen on the Scorcher’s deck
were much lighter of spirit.

“If we only find the ship unharmed,” cried Frank, “we will be able to
find our way home yet.”

Home!

The word seemed to have a magic charm to each one in the party. It was
true that it had been a long time since they had seen it.

Indeed, it had seemed at times as if they were doomed to spend their
lives in this place. That it was to become their tomb.

But there was a chance of liberation, and all looked forward hopefully.

Camp was made on the river banks. Barney and Pomp improved the
opportunity to try fishing.

There were delicious trout in the clear waters, and they rose readily to
the fly.

They returned with a goodly mess, and it was an agreeable change from
the stale food which they had been eating.

Down the river’s course the Scorcher went until patches of ice and snow
began to appear.

Soon they crossed the belt and were in the ice region.

It became necessary now to don their fur suits and prepare for the chill
winds. Frost formed on the pilot-house windows exceedingly thick.

The four seamen were ensconced in cramped quarters in the cabin, for
they could not have existed outside. All preparations were made for a
rough trip.

And this was what they had, as events will prove.

Soon they were in the heart of the fiord and upon the surface of the
river.

Here the first mishap befell them.

It happened this way:

Barney was at the wheel and the Scorcher was gliding between two huge
bergs of ice, when there was a crash and a sullen roar and one of them
fell.

It struck the forward trucks of the machine. There was a ripping,
rending sound, and then the machine pitched forward heavily.

Not a man but was thrown upon his face and all realized that the machine
had met with a serious mishap.

Luckily no one was injured.

Frank sprung out of the cabin door. He gave a cry of dismay at the sight
before him.

There lay a heap of crushed material, the trucks and forward running
gear of the machine. They were fearfully mixed up with the ice.

Here was a catastrophe of no mild sort. Pallid and nerveless he was
joined by the others.

“Gee whiz!” exclaimed Randall, in dismay, “we’re done for, Frank!”

“Begorra, the masheen is spoilt, intoirely!” wailed Barney.

For a moment Frank seemed utterly unable to act.

Then he walked slowly about the Scorcher. He examined the broken gear
long and slowly.

Then he said:

“Barney and Pomp, bring out tools and help me clear away this debris.”

The two jokers hastily obeyed.

Frank proceeded to disentangle the wreck. All went silently to work to
help him.

The forward part of the Scorcher was set upon a support, while Frank
endeavored to repair the wheels. But presently he said:

“My friends, I’m afraid we are badly stuck. These wheels can never do
service again.”

It was an ominous statement.

A groan went up simultaneously.

“Confound the luck!” cried Randall. “The fiends are after us! What is
the next best thing we can do, Frank?”

“There is, fortunately a way out of the difficulty,” said the young
inventor.

At this the faces of all brightened.

“As we are upon snow,” continued Frank, “wheels are not a prime
necessity. I think we can rig up a temporary sledge to go under the
forward part of the machine and yet go ahead.”

A cheer arose at this.

It was fortunate that the power of the Scorcher was connected with the
hind wheels, where the driving cogs were placed. Therefore, the loss of
the forward trucks did not interfere with the machinery or driving
power.

Frank now set to work to rig up a sledge.

This it was not difficult to do with the remnants of the truck. In a few
hours the machine was provided with sledge runners.

These worked clumsily and very seriously impeded the speed of the
Scorcher. But they were better than nothing.

This accident was a bad one for the chances of the voyagers and all felt
secretly discouraged.

It seemed almost a certainty that the ship would be nipped before they
could get to her. But Frank said:

“Don’t give up yet. We have a good chance and we’ll hang onto it.”

Slowly the Scorcher now made its way down the fiord.

The days passed into weeks before finally the great headlands were seen,
and all craned their necks for a sight of the ship.

But an immense barrier of ice had risen just off shore. It was fully two
hundred feet high.

This showed that beyond a doubt the pack had been at work. There must
have been terrific crowding and crushing to have raised this barrier.

What, then, might be the fate of the ship?

Was she lying on her beam ends, a crushed and worthless wreck? Or had
she gone to the bottom?

It could hardly be believed that she had altogether escaped mishap. The
adventurers were in a fever of anxiety.

It was frightfully cold. Nothing like it had ever been experienced by
any one in the party.

No one dared to remain out on deck for long. He would have been
converted into an icicle.

The machine was brought to a halt by the great wall of ice. The Scorcher
could not surmount it, nor did there seem any pass to go through.

What was to be done?

The party was intensely anxious to get a look at the ship. There seemed
but one way.

This was to leave the Scorcher and go forward on foot. This plan was
discussed.

The cold, by good fortune, now began to moderate. It brought signs of
snow, but it enabled the voyagers to go forth without the extreme peril
of freezing to death.

A party was quickly made up to scale the icy heights. These were
Randall, Frank Reade, Jr., Barney and Mains. They wrapped up as warmly
as possible and set forth.

It was no light undertaking.

To climb that immense barrier, with its treacherous surface, with its
hundreds of chasms and pitfalls, was a feat.

But they armed themselves with steel-tipped poles and set forth. Soon
they were clambering over the ice.

It was a rough and dangerous ascent. Before they had made half it, a
startling thing happened.

Mains and Barney were in the lead. Suddenly and without warning they
vanished.

There was a slight upheaval of the blocks of ice. Then they disappeared
from view most effectually.

“Great Scott!” exclaimed Randall, “did you see that, Frank?”

“I did,” replied the young inventor.

“What does it mean?”

“It means that if we don’t go to the aid of those chaps instantly we may
never see them again.”

They clambered furiously up to the spot where the two men had been, but
not a trace of them could be found.

There were a few marks of the penstocks on the ice, but this was all.
There was no visible pitfall or cavity.

What did it mean?

Of course, they must have fallen into something of the sort. Their
disappearance could be explained in no other way.

Frank placed his penstock under a corner of the huge block of ice. He
was not able to lift it, but the penstock slipped down into a certain
cavity beneath.

“Give me a hand, Randall,” he said.

Together they tried to lift the block of ice, but it would not budge.
Their strength was not adequate.

Frank was in a quandary.

He knew that his two colleagues were somewhere beneath that immovable
block of ice which had fallen into just the position to close the cavity
into which they had fallen.

How deep the pitfall was he had no means of guessing. He placed his ear
to the crack and listened. No sound came up.

Various horrible possibilities occurred to Frank.

Suppose the cavity was so deep that it extended all the way down to the
water, or was really in itself an air-hole? They would certainly go to
the bottom of the sea.

In such a case they were beyond earthly aid. But Frank did not believe
yet that such was the case.

He hoped to find both alive, though possibly unconscious, at the bottom
of the pit. But first of all it must be opened.

So he drew his hatchet from his belt and began work. Randall did the
same.

Their purpose was, if possible, to split the big cake of ice and thus
open up the trap. They worked hard and fast.

With rapid blows Frank quickly cut a deep channel into the ice block.
Deeper it grew, and Randall advanced to meet him.

Then one united blow cracked the ice-block. They put their shoulders to
it and hurled it down the <DW72>.




                              CHAPTER XII.
                           WHICH IS THE END.


As they did so both nearly fell into the cavity. They clung to the edges
desperately.

Then, recovering, they saw that a dark hole yawned beneath them. How
deep it was they could only conjecture.

But Frank shouted:

“Hello! Are you down there, Barney?”

Again and again the hail went down. Then something like a gasp and a sob
came up.

A voice muttered:

“Phwere the divil am I? Shure, it’s kilt I am, an’ this is purgatory!”

“No, it isn’t!” shouted Frank. “It’s only a hole in the ice. Lively now,
old fellow. How is the other fellow?”

“Misther Frank?” shouted Barney.

“Yes, it’s me!”

“Shure, what’s the matter?”

“Oh, you fell into a hole in the ice, that’s all!”

“Och, shure; I remember now. An’ the other feller—Mither of Moses! I
belave he’s dead!”

“Wait and I’ll lower a rope to you,” cried Frank. “Tie it around him and
we’ll haul him up!”

“All roight, sor!”

Frank had provided himself with a hundred feet of stout line before
leaving the Scorcher. This now came into play.

He lowered it quickly into the pit. In a very few moments Barney gave an
answering tug.

“All roight, sor! I have it fast!”

Then another voice was heard below. It was evident that Mains had also
recovered his consciousness.

“It’s a hard v’yage, shipmates!” mumbled the sailor. “Fell clean from
the maintop into the waist of the ship. Ugh! my back is broken!”

“Be off wid yez!” cried Barney. “Ye’re wuth tin dead min already! Put
this line undther yez arms.”

“All right?” asked Frank.

“Yis, sor. Pull away wid yez!”

Frank and Randall gave way at the line. Up from the depths came the limp
form of Mains.

He was quite seriously shaken up and unable as yet to stand on his feet.
But the air revived him.

Frank and Randall placed Mains on the ice at one side and then drew
Barney up.

The Celt came up as lively as a cricket.

“Shure, it’s hard to spile a bad egg, or to kill an Oirishman!” he
cried. “It’s sorry I am fer the other man. Phwat will we do wid him,
Misther Frank?”

Frank hardly knew what to say to this question. But Mains answered it
himself.

“Don’t worry about me, mates! Go on up to the summit, an’ I’ll wait here
till ye come back.”

“Will yez?” cried Barney.

“I will: only keep an eye out for ice-holes. I hope ye’ll sight the
ship, for it’s sick to death I am of this region.”

“Same here, bejabers!” cried the Celt.

So it was arranged that Mains should remain where he was until the
others should return.

He was fixed in a comfortable position, and the trio went on up the
steep incline. No further mishap befell them.

They stood upon the highest pinnacle. With his night-glass Frank scanned
the ice fields.

Suddenly he gave a sharp exclamation.

“There she is!” he cried.

“I see her!” shouted Randall, at the same moment.

“She stands up well.”

“She is not nipped yet.”

“No—and—by Jove, she is in open water. The bay has not filled in yet,
Frank.”

This was seen to be the truth. It was a gratifying fact.

Frank’s face wore a relieved expression.

“Then there is a chance for us,” he cried. “We will do the best we can.”

“Back to the Scorcher!” cried Randall. “We must lose no time. There is
snow in the air, and if it comes down before we reach the ship it may
spoil all our plans.”

“You are right,” agreed Frank. “Back to the Scorcher!”

Down the slippery ice hummocks they went. They found Mains where they
had left him.

The sailor was upon his feet, but he was not deemed strong enough to
walk back to the Scorcher.

So Barney and Randall carried him between them, while Frank went ahead
with the penstock to pick the way.

They were not long in descending to the level below. Those on board the
Scorcher saw them coming and shouted joyfully.

It was good news which they learned when the three explorers went
aboard. There was certainly a chance for them.

In the cabin of the Scorcher an elaborate discussion was held. The ship
was in sight and it would be easy to reach her on foot.

But what of the Scorcher?

How could they hope to get the machine over that mighty ice barrier? It
was a sheer impossibility.

The matter finally resolved itself into two alternatives.

One was to remain aboard the Scorcher until spring, and the ice barrier
should fall, and then trust to luck in getting aboard the Pearl before
the northward current should take her.

Or, they might accept the “dernier ressort,” and abandon the machine.

Frank considered the matter for some while. He realized that the
Scorcher had seen its best uses.

The destruction of its forward gear had shaken it up greatly, and it was
hardly likely that it could be repaired to be of much further service.

The electric engines were valuable, but he could easily reproduce them.
Frank did not like the idea of leaving his pet invention in the
Antarctic, but on the other hand he could not see any ready way to avoid
it.

What should he do?

There were many valuable effects aboard. These could in the main be
transported to the ship.

“Gentlemen,” he said, finally, “I have thought the matter over
seriously. I believe it is a question of life or death with us.

“Life if we get away on that ship before the rigorous winter sets in.
Death if we have to remain here nearly nine months until the northern
channels open again.

“We are not bred to this climate. We could not stand the rigorous cold.
We would perish. It is only the question of the Scorcher, and I have
decided what to do.

“We will abandon the machine.”

There was a profound silence. Then Frank resumed:

“Life is of paramount importance. We will transport such of the
Scorcher’s effects us we can, and start at once for the Pearl.”

Instantly a wild cheer went up. The sailors ran forward and embraced
Frank as their deliverer.

No time was lost.

It was decided to take the electric gun, the searchlight, and one of the
smaller dynamos.

None of these were heavy. Also a case of the dynamite shells was taken.
Other articles of necessity were carried away.

But all the stores, the rich equipment and luxuries of the Scorcher were
left behind with it. They were never seen again.

To many, Frank’s course might have seemed heroic, but it was at least
justifiable.

The long Antarctic winter is against human life. As Frank had predicted,
few of the party would have lived to see the spring.

But the serious part of the undertaking was not over yet, by any means.

To climb the ice barrier with all their effects was no light task. Four
trips were made over it.

But at length they were enabled to set out for the ship. Fortunately the
weather yet held moderate.

But at any moment the grim old tyrant of winter was apt to descend with
pitiless, blasting breath and lock up every channel and basin of open
water.

So our voyagers journeyed on without rest.

Luck was with them. They reached the ship and got aboard. The Pearl was
anchored in the middle of the basin.

But the boat in which Captain Ward had come off was yet in a cleft in
the ice. In it all were safely transported to the ship’s deck.

The Pearl was found in good, seaworthy condition, and there was no
reason so far as that went why she should not sail north at once.

But there was another reason.

The channel by which she had entered the basin was closed. Great
ice-blocks had wedged in and closed it.

Here was a dilemma.

It was fifty miles to the open sea. Doubtless the channel was open in
places, but there were sufficient obstructions to hold the vessel back.

What was to be done?

The crew all looked dismayed.

It looked as if the Pearl must stay in the Antarctic after all. But at
the last moment Frank Reade, Jr., came to the rescue.

He had not as yet, by any means, overtaxed his resources.

He gave quick and sharp orders.

“Bring the pneumatic gun forward,” he commanded.

Two men brought the cylinder of steel and its pivotal carriage forward.
It was quickly mounted in the bow.

The connections were made with the pneumatic chambers and the dynamos.

Then Frank placed a projectile in the breech. He trained the gun upon
the blocked channel.

One moment he drew the sights, then he pressed the electric button. The
effect was thrilling.

The shell struck fair in the midst of the ice-blocks. There was a
terrible crash—a sullen, thunderous roar.

Up into the air one hundred feet went a column of water and ice
fragments. It was a marvelous spectacle.

The ship pitched and rocked violently. Then Frank sent another shell
into the heap.

The ice-jam gave way. For fully five hundred yards the channel was open.
A northward current moved the crushed ice rapidly away and in an hour’s
time the channel was clear as far as the eye could reach.

The Pearl sailed out into the channel amid the cheers of the crew.

In the fifty miles of circuitous sailing among the ice fields the
electric gun did valiant service.

In due time the Pearl emerged into the open sea. She met fearful weather
for the first week.

But she steadily and stanchly fought her way northward, inch by inch it
seemed, until at length she was in Cape Horn seas.

The rest was easy.

A week later she was in Montevideo harbor. Here a fresh crew was shipped
and a new captain procured.

Then she proceeded to Rio and took on a cargo of coffee, so that her
homeward cruise might not be unprofitable.

In due time she reached New York. Captain Ward’s wife was inconsolable
over his loss. The ship was sold and the sum given to her.

Frank also paid to her again the sum of the charter, which was a
provision against want, and some recompense for her terrible loss. But
nobody could deny but that Ward himself was solely to blame.

The seamen survivors of the party scattered when New York was reached.
Jack Wendel returned to his seashore home, and Randall went on to
Readestown with Frank and Barney and Pomp.

Needless to say they were glad to get home.

In a large measure the trip had been a success.

They had accomplished the feat of discovering the abandoned country, but
neither Frank nor Randall were satisfied.

“I shall have another try at that game some day,” declared the young
inventor. “I want to explore the rest of that strange land.”

“By all means take me with you,” said Randall, eagerly.

“We will talk it over,” replied Frank.

And full of the idea he went back to his work. Whether he ever carried
out his project or not we will wait for the future to tell, and with
this announcement bring our story to


                                THE END.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Read “OVER THE ORIENT; OR, FRANK READE, JR.’S TRAVELS IN TURKEY,” which
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                       Charley, the Cattle King;

                                  OR,

                      THE BOY WHO OWNED THE RANGE.

                            By R. T. EMMET.

        Begins in No. 505 of “HAPPY DAYS,” Issued June 3, 1904.

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  33 Young Wild West and the Ranch Queen; or, Rounding Up the Cattle
        Ropers.

  34 Young Wild West’s Pony Express; or, Getting the Mail Through on
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  35 Young Wild West on the Big Divide; or, The Raid of the Renegades.

  36 Young Wild West’s Million in Gold; or, The Boss Boy of Boulder.

  37 Young Wild West Running the Gantlet; or, The Pawnee Chief’s Last
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  38 Young Wild West and the Cowboys; or, A Hot Time on the Prairie.

  39 Young Wild West’s Rough Riders; or, The Rose Bud of the Rockies.

  40 Young Wild West’s Dash for Life; or, A Ride that Saved a Town.

  41 Young Wild West’s Big Pan Out; or, The Battle for a Silver Mine.

  42 Young Wild West and the Charmed Arrow; or, The White Lily of the
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  43 Young Wild West’s Great Round Up; or, Corraling the Ranch
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  44 Young Wild West’s Rifle Rangers; or, Trailing a Bandit King.

  45 Young Wild West and the Russian Duke; or, A Lively Time on
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  46 Young Wild West on the Rio Grande; or, Trapping the Mexican
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  47 Young Wild West and Sitting Bull; or, Saving a Troop of Cavalry.

  48 Young Wild West and the Texas Trailers; or, Roping in the Horse
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  49 Young Wild West’s Whirlwind Riders; or, Chasing the Border Thugs.

  50 Young Wild West and the Danites; or, Arietta’s Great Peril.

  51 Young Wild West in the Shadow of Death; or, Saved by a Red Man’s
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  52 Young Wild West and the Arizona Boomers; or, The Bad Men of
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  53 Young Wild West After the Claim-Jumpers; or, Taming a Tough Town.

  54 Young Wild West and the Prairie Pearl; or, The Mystery of No
        Man’s Ranch.

  55 Young Wild West on a Crooked Trail; or, Lost on the Alkali
        Desert.

  56 Young Wild West and the Broken Bowie; or, The Outlaws of Yellow
        Fork.

  57 Young Wild West’s Running Fight; or, Trapping the Reds and
        Renegades.

  58 Young Wild West and His Dead Shot Band; or, the Smugglers of the
        Canadian Border.

  59 Young Wild West’s Blind Ride; or, The Treasure Trove of the
        Yellowstone.

  60 Young Wild West and the Vigilantes; or, Thinning Out a Hard
        Crowd.

  61 Young Wild West on a Crimson Trail; or, Arietta Among the
        Apaches.

  62 Young Wild West and “Gilt Edge Gil”; or, Touching up the
        Sharpers.

  63 Young Wild West’s Reckless Riders; or, After the Train Wreckers.

  64 Young Wild West at Keno Gulch; or, The Game That Was Never
        Played.

  65 Young Wild West and the Man from the East; or, The Luck that
        Found the Lost Lode.

  66 Young Wild West in the Grand Canyon; or, A Finish Fight With
        Outlaws.

  67 Young Wild West and the “Wyoming Wolves”; or, Arietta’s Wonderful
        Nerve.

  68 Young Wild West’s Dangerous Deal; or, The Plot to Flood a Silver
        Mine.

  69 Young Wild West and the Purple Plumes; or, Cheyenne Charlie’s
        Close Call.

  70 Young Wild West at “Coyote Camp”; or, Spoiling a Lynching Bee.

  71 Young Wild West the Lasso King; or, The Crooked Gang of
        “Straight” Ranch.

  72 Young Wild West’s Game of Chance; or, Saved by Arietta.

  73 Young Wild West and “Cayuse Kitty”; or, The Queen of the Broncho
        Busters.

  74 Young Wild West’s Steady Hand; or, The Shot that Made a Million.

  75 Young Wild West and the Piute Princess; or, The Trail that Led to
        the Lost Land.

  76 Young Wild West’s Cowboy Carnival; or, The Roundup at Roaring
        Ranch.

  77 Young Wild West and the Girl in Green; or, A Lively Time at
        Silver Plume.

  78 Young Wild West’s Long-Range Shot; or, Arietta’s Ride for Life.

  79 Young Wild West and the Stranded Show; or, Waking the Prairie
        Pilgrims.

  80 Young Wild West’s Life at Stake; or, The Strategy of Arietta.

  81 Young Wild West’s Prairie Pioneers; or, Fighting the Way to the
        Golden Loop.

  82 Young Wild West and Nevada Nan; or, The Wild Girl of the Sierras.

  83 Young Wild West in the Bad Lands; or, Hemmed in by Redskins.

  84 Young Wild West at Nugget Flats; or, Arietta’s Streak of Luck.

  85 Young Wild West’s Grizzly Hunt; or, The Rival Rangers of the
        Rockies.

  86 Young Wild West’s Buckskin Brigade; or, Helping the Cavalrymen.

 FOR SALE BY ALL NEWSDEALERS, OR WILL BE SENT TO ANY ADDRESS ON RECEIPT
                     OF PRICE, 5 CENTS PER COPY, BY
 FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher,                     24 Union Square, New York.
 ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

                      IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS

of our Libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be
obtained from this office direct. Cut out and fill in the following
Order Blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and
we will send them to you by return mail. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME
AS MONEY.

                  *       *       *       *       *

  FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York.         ....190

  DEAR SIR—Enclosed find ... cents for which please send me:

  .... copies of WORK AND WIN, Nos...................................
  .... copies of WILD WEST WEEKLY, Nos...............................
  .... copies of FRANK READE WEEKLY, Nos.............................
  .... copies of PLUCK AND LUCK, Nos.................................
  .... copies of SECRET SERVICE, Nos.................................
  .... copies of THE LIBERTY BOYS OF ’76, Nos........................
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  Name............. Street and No............ Town......... State....




                    These Books Tell You Everything!

               A COMPLETE SET IS A REGULAR ENCYCLOPEDIA!


Each book consists of sixty-four pages, printed on good paper, in clear
type and neatly bound in an attractive, illustrated cover. Most of the
books are also profusely illustrated, and all of the subjects treated
upon are explained in such a simple manner that any child can thoroughly
understand them. Look over the list as classified and see if you want to
know anything about the subjects mentioned.

                  *       *       *       *       *

THESE BOOKS ARE FOR SALE BY ALL NEWSDEALERS OR WILL BE SENT BY MAIL TO
ANY ADDRESS FROM THIS OFFICE ON RECEIPT OF PRICE, TEN CENTS EACH, OR ANY
THREE BOOKS FOR TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS
MONEY. Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, N.Y.

                  *       *       *       *       *

                               MESMERISM.

No. 81. HOW TO MESMERIZE.—Containing the most approved methods of
mesmerism; also how to cure all kinds of diseases by animal magnetism,
or, magnetic healing. By Prof. Leo Hugo Koch, A. C. S., author of “How
to Hypnotize,” etc.

                               PALMISTRY.

No. 82: HOW TO DO PALMISTRY.—Containing the most approved methods of
reading the lines on the hand, together with a full explanation of their
meaning. Also explaining phrenology, and the key for telling character
by the bumps on the head. By Leo Hugo Koch, A. C. S. Fully illustrated.

                               HYPNOTISM.

No. 83. HOW TO HYPNOTIZE.—Containing valuable and instructive
information regarding the science of hypnotism. Also explaining the most
approved methods which are employed by the leading hypnotists of the
world. By Leo Hugo Koch, A.C.S.

                               SPORTING.

No. 21. HOW TO HUNT AND FISH.—The most complete hunting and fishing
guide ever published. It contains full instructions about guns, hunting
dogs, traps, trapping and fishing, together with descriptions of game
and fish.

No. 26. HOW TO ROW, SAIL AND BUILD A BOAT.—Fully illustrated. Every boy
should know how to row and sail a boat. Full instructions are given in
this little book, together with instructions on swimming and riding,
companion sports to boating.

No. 47. HOW TO BREAK, RIDE AND DRIVE A HORSE.—A complete treatise on the
horse. Describing the most useful horses for business, the best horses
for the road; also valuable recipes for diseases peculiar to the horse.

No. 48. HOW TO BUILD AND SAIL CANOES—A handy book for boys, containing
full directions for constructing canoes And the most popular manner of
sailing them. Fully illustrated. By C. Stansfield Hicks.

                            FORTUNE TELLING.

No. 1. NAPOLEON’S ORACULUM AND DREAM BOOK.—Containing the great oracle
of human destiny; also the true meaning of almost any kind of dreams,
together with charms, ceremonies, and curious games of cards. A complete
book.

No. 23. HOW TO EXPLAIN DREAMS.—Everybody dreams, from the little child
to the aged man and woman. This little book gives the explanation to all
kinds of dreams, together with lucky end unlucky days, and “Napoleon’s
Oraculum,” the book of fate.

No. 28. HOW TO TELL FORTUNES.—Everyone is desirous of knowing what his
future life will bring forth, whether happiness or misery, wealth or
poverty. You can tell by a glance at this little book. Buy one and be
convinced. Tell your own fortune. Tell the fortune of your friends.

No. 76. HOW TO TELL FORTUNES BY THE HAND.—Containing rules for telling
fortunes by the aid of lines of the hand, or the secret of palmistry.
Also the secret of telling future events by aid of moles, marks, scars,
etc. Illustrated. By A. Anderson.

                               ATHLETIC.

No. 8. HOW TO BECOME AN ATHLETE.—Giving full instruction for the use of
dumb bells, Indian clubs, parallel bars, horizontal bars and various
other methods of developing a good, healthy muscle; containing over
sixty illustrations. Every boy can become strong and healthy by
following the instructions contained in this little book.

No. 10. HOW TO BOX.—The art of self-defense made easy. Containing over
thirty illustrations of guards, blows, and the different positions of a
good boxer. Every boy should obtain one of these useful and instructive
books, as it will teach you how to box without an instructor.

No. 25. HOW TO BECOME A GYMNAST.—Containing full instructions for all
kinds of gymnastic sports and athletic exercises. Embracing thirty-five
illustrations. By Professor W. Macdonald. A handy and useful book.

No. 34. HOW TO FENCE.—Containing full instruction for fencing and the
use of the broadsword; also instruction in archery. Described with
twenty-one practical illustrations, giving the best positions in
fencing. A complete book.

                           TRICKS WITH CARDS.

No. 51. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Containing explanations of the
general principles of sleight-of-hand applicable to card tricks; of card
tricks with ordinary cards, and not requiring sleight-of-hand: of tricks
involving sleight-of-hand, or the use of specially prepared cards. By
Professor Haffner. Illustrated.

No. 72. HOW TO DO SIXTY TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Embracing all of the latest
and most deceptive card tricks, with illustrations. By A. Anderson.

No. 77. HOW TO DO FORTY TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Containing deceptive Card
Tricks as performed by leading conjurors and magicians. Arranged for
home amusement. Fully illustrated.

                                 MAGIC.

No. 2. HOW TO DO TRICKS.—The great book of magic and card tricks,
containing full instruction on all the leading card tricks of the day,
also the most popular magical illusions as performed by our leading
magicians; every boy should obtain a copy of this book, as it will both
amuse and instruct.

No. 22. HOW TO DO SECOND SIGHT.—Heller’s second sight explained by his
former assistant, Fred Hunt, Jr. Explaining how the secret dialogues
were carried on between the magician and the boy on the stage; also
giving all the codes and signals. The only authentic explanation of
second sight.

No. 43. HOW TO BECOME A MAGICIAN.—Containing the grandest assortment of
magical illusions ever placed before the public. Also tricks with cards,
incantations, etc.

No. 68. HOW TO DO CHEMICAL TRICKS.—Containing over one hundred highly
amusing and instructive tricks with chemicals. By A. Anderson.
Handsomely illustrated.

No. 69. HOW TO DO SLEIGHT OF HAND.—Containing over fifty of the latest
and best tricks used by magicians. Also containing the secret of second
sight. Fully illustrated. By A. Anderson.

No. 70. HOW TO MAKE MAGIC TOYS.—Containing full directions for making
Magic Toys and devices of many kinds. By A. Anderson. Fully illustrated.

No. 73. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH NUMBERS.—Showing many curious tricks with
figures and the magic of numbers. By A. Anderson. Fully illustrated.

No. 75. HOW TO BECOME A CONJUROR.—Containing tricks with Dominos, Dice,
Cups and Balls, Hats, etc. Embracing thirty-six illustrations. By A.
Anderson.

No. 78. HOW TO DO THE BLACK ART.—Containing a complete description of
the mysteries of Magic and Sleight of Hand, together with many wonderful
experiments. By A. Anderson. Illustrated.

                              MECHANICAL.

No. 29. HOW TO BECOME AN INVENTOR.—Every boy should know how inventions
originated. This book explains them all, giving examples in electricity,
hydraulics, magnetism, optics, pneumatics, mechanics, etc. The most
instructive book published.

No. 56. HOW TO BECOME AN ENGINEER.—Containing full instructions how to
proceed in order to become a locomotive engineer; also directions for
building a model locomotive; together with a full description of
everything an engineer should know.

No. 57. HOW TO MAKE MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.—Full directions how to make a
Banjo, Violin, Zither, Æolian Harp, Xylophone and other musical
instruments; together with a brief description of nearly every musical
instrument used in ancient or modern times. Profusely illustrated. By
Algernon S. Fitzgerald, for twenty years bandmaster of the Royal Bengal
Marines.

No. 59. HOW TO MAKE A MAGIC LANTERN.—Containing a description of the
lantern, together with its history and invention. Also full directions
for its use and for painting slides. Handsomely illustrated. By John
Allen.

No. 71. HOW TO DO MECHANICAL TRICKS.—Containing complete instructions
for performing over sixty Mechanical Tricks. By A. Anderson. Fully
illustrated.

                            LETTER WRITING.

No. 11. HOW TO WRITE LOVE-LETTERS.—A most complete little book,
containing full directions for writing love-letters, and when to use
them, giving specimen letters for young and old.

No. 12. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO LADIES.—Giving complete instructions for
writing letters to ladies on all subjects; also letters of introduction,
notes and requests.

No. 24. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO GENTLEMEN.—Containing full directions
for writing to gentlemen on all subjects; also giving sample letters for
instruction.

No. 53. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS.—A wonderful little book, telling you how
to write to your sweetheart, your father, mother, sister, brother,
employer; and, in fact, everybody and anybody you wish to write to.
Every young man and every young lady in the land should have this book.

No. 74. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS CORRECTLY.—Containing full instructions for
writing letters on almost any subject; also rules for punctuation and
composition, with specimen letters.

                               THE STAGE.

No. 41. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK END MEN’S JOKE BOOK.—Containing a great
variety of the latest jokes used by the most famous end men. No amateur
minstrels is complete without this wonderful little book.

No. 42. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK STUMP SPEAKER.—Containing a varied
assortment of stump speeches, <DW64>, Dutch and Irish. Also end men’s
jokes. Just the thing for home amusement and amateur shows.

No. 45. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK MINSTREL GUIDE AND JOKE BOOK.—Something new
and very instructive. Every boy should obtain this book, as it contains
full instructions for organizing an amateur minstrel troupe.

No. 65. MULDOON’S JOKES.—This is one of the most original joke books
ever published, and it is brimful of wit and humor. It contains a large
collection of songs, jokes, conundrums, etc., of Terrence Muldoon, the
great wit, humorist, and practical joker of the day. Every boy who can
enjoy a good substantial joke should obtain a copy immediately.

No. 79. HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR.—Containing complete instructions how to
make up for various characters on the stage; together with the duties of
the Stage Manager, Prompter, Scenic Artist and Property Man. By a
prominent Stage Manager.

No. 80. GUS WILLIAMS’ JOKE BOOK.—Containing the latest jokes, anecdotes
and funny stories of this world-renowned, and ever popular German
comedian. Sixty-four pages; handsome  cover containing a
half-tone photo of the author.

                             HOUSEKEEPING.

No. 16. HOW TO KEEP A WINDOW GARDEN.—Containing full instructions for
constructing a window garden either in town or country, and the most
approved methods for raising beautiful flowers at home. The most
complete book of the kind ever published.

No. 30. HOW TO COOK.—One of the most instructive books on cooking ever
published. It contains recipes for cooking meats, fish, game, and
oysters; also pies, puddings, cakes and all kinds of pastry, and a grand
collection of recipes by one of our most popular cooks.

No. 37. HOW TO KEEP HOUSE.—It contains information for everybody, boys,
girls, men and women; it will teach you how to make almost anything
around the house, such as parlor ornaments, brackets, cements, Æolian
harps, and bird lime for catching birds.

                              ELECTRICAL.

No. 46. HOW TO MAKE AND USE ELECTRICITY.—A description of the wonderful
uses of electricity and electro magnetism; together with full
instructions for making Electric Toys, Batteries, etc. By George Trebel,
A. M., M. D. Containing over fifty illustrations.

No. 64. HOW TO MAKE ELECTRICAL MACHINES.—Containing full directions for
making electrical machines, induction coils, dynamos, and many novel
toys to be worked by electricity. By R. A. R. Bennett. Fully
illustrated.

No. 67. HOW TO DO ELECTRICAL TRICKS.—Containing a large collection of
instructive and highly amusing electrical tricks, together with
illustrations. By A. Anderson.

                             ENTERTAINMENT.

No. 9. HOW TO BECOME A VENTRILOQUIST.—By Harry Kennedy. The secret given
away. Every intelligent boy reading this book of instructions, by a
practical professor (delighting multitudes every night with his
wonderful imitations), can master the art, and create any amount of fun
for himself and friends. It is the greatest book ever published, and
there’s millions (of fun) in it.

No. 20. HOW TO ENTERTAIN AN EVENING PARTY.—A very valuable little book
just published. A complete compendium of games, sports, card diversions,
comic recitations, etc., suitable for parlor or drawing-room
entertainment. It contains more for the money than any book published.

No. 35. HOW TO PLAY GAMES.—A complete and useful little book, containing
the rules and regulations of billiards, bagatelle, backgammon, croquet,
dominoes, etc.

No. 36. HOW TO SOLVE CONUNDRUMS.—Containing all the leading conundrums
of the day, amusing riddles, curious catches and witty sayings.

No. 52. HOW TO PLAY CARDS.—A complete and handy little book, giving the
rules and full directions for playing Euchre, Cribbage, Casino,
Forty-Five, Rounce, Pedro Sancho, Draw Poker, Auction Pitch, All Fours,
and many other popular games of cards.

No. 66. HOW TO DO PUZZLES.—Containing over three hundred interesting
puzzles and conundrums, with key to same. A complete book. Fully
illustrated. By A. Anderson.

                               ETIQUETTE.

No. 13. HOW TO DO IT; OR, BOOK OF ETIQUETTE.—It is a great life secret,
and one that every young man desires to know all about. There’s
happiness in it.

No. 33. HOW TO BEHAVE.—Containing the rules and etiquette of good
society and the easiest and most approved methods of appearing to good
advantage at parties, balls, the theatre, church, and in the
drawing-room.

                              DECLAMATION.

No. 27. HOW TO RECITE AND BOOK OF RECITATIONS.—Containing the most
popular selections in use, comprising Dutch dialect, French dialect,
Yankee and Irish dialect pieces, together with many standard readings.

No. 31. HOW TO BECOME A SPEAKER.—Containing fourteen illustrations,
giving the different positions requisite to become a good speaker,
reader and elocutionist. Also containing gems from all the popular
authors of prose and poetry, arranged in the most simple and concise
manner possible.

No. 49. HOW TO DEBATE.—Giving rules for conducting debates, outlines for
debates, questions for discussion, and the best sources for procuring
information on the questions given.

                                SOCIETY.

No. 3. HOW TO FLIRT.—The arts and wiles of flirtation art fully
explained by this little book. Besides the various methods of
handkerchief, fan, glove, parasol, window and hat flirtation, it
contains a full list of the language and sentiment of flowers, which is
interesting to everybody, both old and young. You cannot be happy
without one.

No. 4. HOW TO DANCE is the title of a new and handsome little book just
issued by Frank Tousey. It contains full instructions in the art of
dancing, etiquette in the ball-room and at parties, how to dress, and
full directions for calling off in all popular square dances.

No. 5. HOW TO MAKE LOVE.—A complete guide to love, courtship and
marriage, giving sensible advice, rules and etiquette to be observed,
with many curious and interesting things not generally known.

No. 17. HOW TO DRESS.—Containing full instruction in the art of dressing
and appearing well at home and abroad, giving the selections of colors,
material, and how to have them made up.

No. 18. HOW TO BECOME BEAUTIFUL.—One of the brightest and most valuable
little books ever given to the world. Everybody wishes to know how to
become beautiful, both male and female. The secret is simple, and almost
costless. Read this book and be convinced how to become beautiful.

                           BIRDS AND ANIMALS.

No. 7. HOW TO KEEP BIRDS.—Handsomely illustrated and containing full
instructions for the management and training of the canary, mockingbird,
bobolink, blackbird, paroquet, parrot, etc.

No. 39. HOW TO RAISE DOGS, POULTRY, PIGEONS AND RABBITS.—A useful and
instructive book. Handsomely illustrated. By Ira Drofraw.

No. 40. HOW TO MAKE AND SET TRAPS.—Including hints on how to catch
moles, weasels, otter, rats, squirrels and birds. Also how to cure
skins. Copiously illustrated. By J. Harrington Keene.

No. 50. HOW TO STUFF BIRDS AND ANIMALS.—A valuable book, giving
instructions in collecting, preparing, mounting and preserving birds,
animals and insects.

No. 54. HOW TO KEEP AND MANAGE PETS.—Giving complete information as to
the manner and method of raising, keeping, taming, breeding, and
managing all kinds of pets; also giving full instructions for making
cages, etc. Fully explained by twenty-eight illustrations, making it the
most complete book of the kind ever published.

                             MISCELLANEOUS.

No. 8. HOW TO BECOME A SCIENTIST.—A useful and instructive book, giving
a complete treatise on chemistry; also experiments in acoustics,
mechanics, mathematics, chemistry, and directions for making fireworks,
 fires, and gas balloons. This book cannot be equaled.

No. 14. HOW TO MAKE CANDY.—A complete hand-book for making all kinds of
candy, ice-cream, syrups, essences, etc., etc.

No. 19.—FRANK TOUSEY’S UNITED STATES DISTANCE TABLES, POCKET COMPANION
AND GUIDE.—Giving the official distances on all the railroads of the
United States and Canada. Also table of distances by water to foreign
ports, hack fares in the principal cities, reports of the census, etc.,
etc., making it one of the most complete and handy books published.

No. 38. HOW TO BECOME YOUR OWN DOCTOR.—A wonderful book, containing
useful and practical information in the treatment of ordinary diseases
and ailments common to every family. Abounding in useful and effective
recipes for general complaints.

No. 55. HOW TO COLLECT STAMPS AND COINS.—Containing valuable information
regarding the collecting and arranging of stamps and coins. Handsomely
illustrated.

No. 58. HOW TO BE A DETECTIVE.—By Old King Brady, the world-known
detective. In which he lays down some valuable and sensible rules for
beginners, and also relates some adventures and experiences of
well-known detectives.

No. 60. HOW TO BECOME A PHOTOGRAPHER.—Containing useful information
regarding the Camera and how to work it; also how to make Photographic
Magic Lantern Slides and other Transparencies. Handsomely illustrated.
By Captain W. De W. Abney.

No. 62. HOW TO BECOME A WEST POINT MILITARY CADET.—Containing full
explanations how to gain admittance, course of Study, Examinations,
Duties, Staff of Officers, Post Guard, Police Regulations, Fire
Department, and all a boy should know to be a Cadet. Compiled and
written by Lu Senarens, author of “How to Become a Naval Cadet.”

No. 63. HOW TO BECOME A NAVAL CADET.—Complete Instructions of how to
gain admission to the Annapolis Naval Academy. Also containing the
course of Instruction, description of grounds and buildings, historical
sketch, and everything a boy should know to become an officer in the
United States Navy. Compiled and written by Lu Senarens, author of “How
to Become a West Point Military Cadet.”

                PRICE 10 CENTS EACH, OR 3 FOR 25 CENTS.
      Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York.




                        THE LIBERTY BOY OF ’76.


    A Weekly Magazine containing Stories of the American Revolution.

                            By HARRY MOORE.

These stories are based on actual facts and give a faithful account of
the exciting adventures of a brave band of American youths who were
always ready and willing to imperil their lives for the sake of helping
along the gallant cause of Independence. Every number will consist of 32
large pages of reading matter, bound in a beautiful  cover.


                             LATEST ISSUES:

  99 The Liberty Boys in New York; or, Helping to Hold the Great City.

  100 The Liberty Boys’ Big Risk; or, Ready to Take Chances.

  101 The Liberty Boys’ Drag-Net; or, Hauling the Redcoats In.

  102 The Liberty Boys’ Lightning Work; or, Too Fast for the British.

  103 The Liberty Boys’ Lucky Blunder; or, The Mistake that Helped
        Them.

  104 The Liberty Boys’ Shrewd Trick; or, Springing a Big Surprise.

  105 The Liberty Boys’ Cunning; or, Outwitting the Enemy.

  106 The Liberty Boys’ “Big Hit”; or, Knocking the Redcoats Out.

  107 The Liberty Boys “Wild Irishman”; or, A Lively Lad from Dublin.

  108 The Liberty Boys’ Surprise; or, Not Just What They Were Looking
        For.

  109 The Liberty Boys’ Treasure; or, A Lucky Find.

  110 The Liberty Boys in Trouble; or, A Bad Run of Luck.

  111 The Liberty Boys’ Jubilee; or, A Great Day for the Great Cause.

  112 The Liberty Boys Cornered; or, “Which Way Shall We Turn?”

  113 The Liberty Boys at Valley Forge; or, Enduring Terrible
        Hardships.

  114 The Liberty Boys Missing; or, Lost in the Swamps.

  115 The Liberty Boys’ Wager, And How They Won It.

  116 The Liberty Boys Deceived; or, Tricked but Not Beaten.

  117 The Liberty Boys and the Dwarf; or, A Dangerous Enemy.

  118 The Liberty Boys’ Dead-Shots; or, The Deadly Twelve.

  119 The Liberty Boys’ League; or, The Country Boys Who Helped.

  120 The Liberty Boys’ Neatest Trick; or, How the Redcoats were
        Fooled.

  121 The Liberty Boys Stranded; or, Afoot In the Enemy’s Country.

  122 The Liberty Boys in the Saddle; or, Lively Work for Liberty’s
        Cause.

  123 The Liberty Boys’ Bonanza; or, Taking Toll from the Tories.

  124 The Liberty Boys at Saratoga; or, The Surrender of Burgoyne.

  125 The Liberty Boys and “Old Put”; or, The Escape at Horseneck.

  126 The Liberty Boys Bugle Call; or, The Plot to Poison Washington.

  127 The Liberty Boys and “Queen Esther”; or, The Wyoming Valley
        Massacre.

  128 The Liberty Boys’ Horse Guard; or, On the High Hills of Santee.

  129 The Liberty Boys and Aaron Burr; or, Battling for Independence.

  130 The Liberty Boys and the “Swamp Fox”; or, Helping Marion.

  131 The Liberty Boys and Ethan Allen; or, Old and Young Veterans.

  132 The Liberty Boys and the King’s Spy; or, Diamond Cut Diamond.

  133 The Liberty Boys’ Bayonet Charge; or, The Siege of Yorktown.

  134 The Liberty Boys and Paul Jones; or, The Martyrs of the Prison
        Ships.

  135 The Liberty Boys at Bowling Green; or, Smashing the King’s
        Statue.

  136 The Liberty Boys and Nathan Hale; or, The Brave Patriot Spy.

  137 The Liberty Boys “Minute Men”; or, The Battle of the Cow Pens.

  138 The Liberty Boys and the Traitor; or, How They Handled Him.

  139 The Liberty Boys at Yellow Creek; or, Routing the Redcoats.

  140 The Liberty Boys and General Greene; or, Chasing Cornwallis.

  141 The Liberty Boys in Richmond; or, Fighting Traitor Arnold.

  142 The Liberty Boys and the Terrible Tory; or, Beating a Bad Man.

  143 The Liberty Boys’ Sword-Fight; or, Winning with the Enemy’s
        Weapons.

  144 The Liberty Boys in Georgia; or, Lively Times Down South.

  145 The Liberty Boys’ Greatest Triumph; or, The March to Victory.

  146 The Liberty Boys and the Quaker Spy; or, Two of a Kind.

  147 The Liberty Boys in Florida; or, Fighting Prevost’s Army.

  148 The Liberty Boys’ Last Chance; or, Making the Best of It.

  149 The Liberty Boys’ Sharpshooters; or, The Battle of the Kegs.

  150 The Liberty Boys on Guard; or, Watching the Enemy.

  151 The Liberty Boys’ Strange Guide; or, the Mysterious Maiden.

  152 The Liberty Boys in the Mountains; or, Among Rough People.

  153 The Liberty Boys’ Retreat; or, In the Shades of Death.

  154 The Liberty Boys and the Fire Fiend; or, A New Kind of Battle.

  155 The Liberty Boys in Quakertown; or, Making Things Lively in
        Philadelphia.

  156 The Liberty Boys and the Gypsies; or, A Wonderful Surprise.

  157 The Liberty Boys’ Flying Artillery; or “Liberty or Death.”

  158 The Liberty Boys Against the Red Demons; or, Fighting the Indian
        Raiders.

  159 The Liberty Boys’ Gunners; or, The Bombardment of Monmouth.

  160 The Liberty Boys and Lafayette; or, Helping the Young French
        General.

  161 The Liberty Boys’ Grit; or, The Bravest of the Brave.

  162 The Liberty Boys at West Point; or, Helping to Watch the
        Redcoats.

  163 The Liberty Boys’ Terrible Tussle; or, Fighting to a Finish.

  164 The Liberty Boys and “Light Horse Harry”; or, Chasing the
        British Dragoons.

  165 The Liberty Boys in Camp; or, Working for Washington.

  166 The Liberty Boys and Mute Mart; or, The Deaf and Dumb Spy.

  167 The Liberty Boys At Trenton; or, the Greatest Christmas ever
        Known.

  168 The Liberty Boys and General Gates; or, The Disaster at Camden.

  169 The Liberty Boys at Brandywine; or, Fighting Fiercely for
        Freedom.

  170 The Liberty Boys’ Hot Campaign; or, The Warmest Work on Record.

  171 The Liberty Boys’ Awkward Squad; or, Breaking in New Recruits.

  172 The Liberty Boys’ Fierce Finish; or, Holding Out to the End.

  173 The Liberty Boys at Forty Fort; or, The Battle of Pocono
        Mountain.

  174 The Liberty Boys as Swamp Rats; or, Keeping the Redcoats
        Worried.

  175 The Liberty Boys’ Death March; or, The Girl of the Regiment.

  176 The liberty Boys’ Only Surrender, And Why It was Done.

  177 The Liberty Boys and Flora McDonald; or, After the Hessians.

  178 The Liberty Boys’ Drum Corps; or, Fighting for the Starry Flag.

 For Sale by All Newsdealers, or will be Sent to Any Address on Receipt
                     of Price, 5 Cents per Copy, by
 FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher,                     24 Union Square, New York.
 ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

                      IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS

of our Libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be
obtained from this office direct. Cut out and fill in the following
Order Blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and
we will send them to you by return mail. =POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME
AS MONEY.=

                  *       *       *       *       *

  FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York.         ....190

  DEAR SIR—Enclosed find ... cents for which please send me:

  .... copies of WORK AND WIN, Nos...................................
  .... copies of WILD WEST WEEKLY, Nos...............................
  .... copies of FRANK READE WEEKLY, Nos.............................
  .... copies of PLUCK AND LUCK, Nos.................................
  .... copies of SECRET SERVICE, Nos.................................
  .... copies of THE LIBERTY BOYS OF ’76, Nos........................
  .... copies of Ten-Cent Hand Books, Nos............................

  Name............. Street and No............ Town......... State....




                      FRANK READE WEEKLY MAGAZINE.

     Containing Stories of Adventures on Land, Sea, and in the Air.


                              BY “NONAME.”

             EACH NUMBER IN A HANDSOMELY ILLUMINATED COVER.

                     A 32-PAGE BOOK FOR FIVE CENTS.

All our readers know Frank Reade, Jr., the greatest inventor of the age,
and his two fun-loving chums, Barney and Pomp. The stories published in
this magazine contain a true account of the wonderful and exciting
adventures of the famous inventor, with his marvellous flying machines,
electrical overland engines, and his extraordinary submarine boats. Each
number is a rare treat. Tell your newsdealer to get you a copy.


                             LATEST ISSUES.

  25 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Electric Ice Ship; or, Driven Adrift in
        the Frozen Sky.

  26 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Electric Sea Engine; or, Hunting for a Sunken
        Diamond Mine.

  27 The Black Range; or, Frank Reade, Jr., Among the Cowboys with His
        Electric Caravan.

  28 Over the Andes with Frank Reade, Jr., in His New Air-Ship; or,
        Wild Adventures in Peru.

  29 Frank Reade, Jr., Exploring a Submarine Mountain; or, Lost at the
        Bottom of the Sea.

  30 Adrift in Africa; or, Frank Reade, Jr., Among the Ivory Hunters
        with his New Electric Wagon.

  31 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Search for a Lost Man in His Latest Air
        Wonder.

  32 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Search for the Sea Serpent; or, Six Thousand
        Miles Under the Sea.

  33 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Prairie Whirlwind; or, The Mystery of the
        Hidden Canyon.

  34 Around the Horizon for Ten Thousand Miles; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s
        Most Wonderful Trip.

  35 Lost in the Atlantic Valley; or, Frank Reade, Jr., and his
        Wonder, the “Dart.”

  36 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Desert Explorer; or, The Underground City of
        the Sahara.

  37 Lost in the Mountains of the Moon; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Great
        Trip with the “Scud.”

  38 Under the Amazon for a Thousand Miles.

  39 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Clipper of the Prairie; or, Fighting the
        Apaches in the Southwest.

  40 The Chase of a Comet; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Aerial Trip with the
        “Flash.”

  41 Across the Frozen Sea; or, Frank Reade Jr.’s Electric Snow
        Cutter.

  42 Frank Reade Jr.’s Electric Buckboard; or, Thrilling Adventures in
        North Australia.

  43 Around the Arctic Circle; or, Frank Reade Jr.’s Famous Flight
        With His Air Ship.

  44 Frank Reade Jr.’s Search for the Silver Whale; or, Under the
        Ocean in the Electric “Dolphin.”

  45 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Electric Car; or, Outwitting a
        Desperate Gang.

  46 To the End of the Earth; or, Frank Reade Jr.’s Great Mid-Air
        Flight.

  47 The Missing Island; or, Frank Reade Jr.’s Voyage Under the Sea.

  48 Frank Reade, Jr., in Central India; or, the Search for the Lost
        Savants.

  49 Frank Reade, Jr. Fighting the Terror of the Coast.

  50 100 Miles Below the Surface of the Sea; or, The Marvelous Trip of
        Frank Reade, Jr.

  51 Abandoned in Alaska; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Thrilling Search for
        a Lost Gold Claim.

  52 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Twenty-Five Thousand Mile Trip in the Air.

  53 Under the Yellow Sea; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Search for the Cave
        of Pearls.

  54 From the Nile to the Niger; or, Frank Reade, Jr. Lost in the
        Soudan.

  55 The Electric Island; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Search for the
        Greatest Wonder on Earth.

  56 The Underground Sea; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Subterranean Cruise.

  57 From Tropic to Tropic; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Tour With His
        Bicycle Car.

  58 Lost in a Comet’s Tail; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Strange Adventure
        With His Air-ship.

  59 Under Four Oceans; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Submarine Chase of a
        “Sea Devil.”

  60 The Mysterious Mirage; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Desert Search for a
        Secret City.

  61 Latitude 90 Degrees; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Most Wonderful
        Mid-Air Flight.

  62 Lost In the Great Undertow; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Submarine
        Cruise in the Gulf Stream.

  63 Across Australia with Frank Reade, Jr.; or, in His New Electric
        Car.

  64 Over Two Continents; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Long Distance Flight.

  65 Under the Equator; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Greatest Submarine
        Voyage.

  66 Astray in the Selvas; or, The Wild Experiences of Frank Reade,
        Jr., in South America.

  67 In the Wild Man’s Land; or, With Frank Reade, Jr., in the Heart
        of Australia.

  68 From Coast to Coast; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Trip Across Africa.

  69 Beyond the Gold Coast; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Overland Trip.

  70 Across the Earth; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Latest Trip with His New
        Air Ship.

  71 Six Weeks Buried In a Deep Sea Cave; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Great
        Submarine Search.

  72 Across the Desert of Fire; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Marvelous Trip
        In a Strange Country.

  73 The Transient Lake; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Adventures in a
        Mysterious Country.

  74 The Galleon’s Gold; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Deep Sea Search.

  75 The Lost Caravan; or, Frank Reade, Jr., on the Staked Plains.

  76 Adrift in Asia With Frank Reade, Jr.

  77 Under the Indian Ocean With Frank Reade, Jr.

  78 Along the Orinoco; or, With Frank Reade, Jr., in Venezuela.

  79 The Lost Navigators; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Mid-Air Search.

  80 Six Sunken Pirates; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Marvelous Adventures
        In the Deep Sea.

  81 The Island in The Air; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Trip to the
        Tropics.

  82 In White Latitudes; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Ten Thousand Mile
        Flight.

  83 Afloat in a Sunken Forest; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Submarine
        Cruise.

  84 The Abandoned Country; or, Frank Reade, Jr., Exploring a New
        Continent.

 For Sale by All Newsdealers, or will be Sent to Any Address on Receipt
                     of Price, 5 Cents per Copy, by
 FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher,                     24 Union Square, New York.
 ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

                      IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS

of our Libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be
obtained from this office direct. Cut out and fill in the following
Order Blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and
we will send them to you by return mail. =POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME
AS MONEY.=

                  *       *       *       *       *

  FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York.         ....190

  DEAR SIR—Enclosed find ... cents for which please send me:

  .... copies of WORK AND WIN, Nos...................................
  .... copies of WILD WEST WEEKLY, Nos...............................
  .... copies of FRANK READE WEEKLY, Nos.............................
  .... copies of PLUCK AND LUCK, Nos.................................
  .... copies of SECRET SERVICE, Nos.................................
  .... copies of THE LIBERTY BOYS OF ’76, Nos........................
  .... copies of Ten-Cent Hand Books, Nos............................

  Name............. Street and No............ Town......... State....

------------------------------------------------------------------------




                          TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES


 1. Added Table of Contents.
 2. Silently corrected typographical errors.
 3. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.
 4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
 5. Enclosed bold font in =equals=.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Abandoned Country, by Luis Senarens

*** 