TERROR OF THE COAST***


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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. 49.               NEW YORK, OCTOBER 2, 1903.        Price 5 Cents.

[Illustration: FRANK READE, JR FIGHTING THE TERROR OF THE COAST. By
“NONAME.”]

 Over the schooner swept the Jove, and Frank got on the ladder with the
  boy. Barney drove the machine over the water toward the shore. Many
 bullets were shot at the inventor. They missed him, and he was carried
                             out of danger.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

                              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 1903, in the office of the
   Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. by Frank Tousey, 24 Union
                           Square, New York._

 No. 49.               NEW YORK, OCTOBER 2, 1903.        Price 5 Cents.




          Frank Reade, Jr., Fighting the Terror of the Coast.


                              By “NONAME.”




                                CONTENTS


               CHAPTER    I. CHASING THE AIR-SHIP.
               CHAPTER   II. A DANGEROUS FALL.
               CHAPTER  III. OVERTURNED IN THE AIR.
               CHAPTER   IV. POMP’S ESCAPE.
               CHAPTER    V. THE TERROR OF THE COAST.
               CHAPTER   VI. SHOT BY A LAND BATTERY.
               CHAPTER  VII. STUCK IN THE MUD.
               CHAPTER VIII. ATTACKING THE PIRATES’ LAIR.
               CHAPTER   IX. THE END OF ONE OF THE SHIPS.
               CHAPTER    X. THE PIRATES’ TREASURE.
               CHAPTER   XI. THE RESCUE.
               CHAPTER  XII. CONCLUSION.




                               CHAPTER I.
                         CHASING THE AIR-SHIP.


Toward the close of a cool, pleasant day in September, 18—, the
residents of the village of Readestown were startled by seeing a
horseman come dashing furiously into the town.

He was a middle-aged man, with dark, swarthy features, piercing black
eyes, a black mustache and dark hair. His slender figure was clad in the
costume of a native Mexican, and he rode like an expert.

The man bestrode a fine, swift bay mare, and as he went thundering
through the main street enveloped in a cloud of dust at the top of the
mare’s speed, he attracted considerable attention.

The horse finally paused before a palatial mansion, out of the gate of
which a beautiful young woman was coming, and the Mexican politely
raised his sombrero and asked in good English:

“Senora, can you direct me to the home of Frank Reade, Jr.?”

“This house is his residence,” replied the lady, curiously eyeing the
man.

“Ah! Thank you! Do you know if he is in?”

“He has gone away.”

“Gone!” gasped the man in startled tones.

“Half an hour ago.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I should know, as I am his wife.”

“But he will return soon?” eagerly asked the man.

“No; perhaps not for several weeks.”

“Dios mio! How unfortunate for me! The train I came on from Boston broke
down a league from here, and in my haste to reach this place in season
to catch him ere he departed, I hired this horse and came in the
saddle.”

“What a pity you arrived too late!”

“Yes, indeed; for it is with me a matter of life or death.”

“I am astonished.”

“He has, of course, gone in his new flying machine?”

“Exactly so, sir.”

“When I landed from Mexico I read in the daily paper that he had
finished his marvelous invention, and intended to make a trial trip in
it this evening.”

“Was your business important, sir?”

“Very. So much so that I came all the way here from Mexico to see him in
relation to his new air-ship.”

“I am very sorry you failed to get here in time.”

“You have no idea of my own anxiety, senora.”

“Perhaps I might direct you so you could find him.”

“Do so, and I shall be very grateful indeed.”

“Well, the machine ran against the wind, which blows from the southwest,
and made a successful ascension. The last I saw of it it was heading due
southwest of here. Just five miles away in that direction lies the town
of Foxhall, at which Frank intends to pause awhile to examine the
air-ship and see how it stood the initial test. By going there with all
speed, you might reach him before he sends the air-ship aloft again.”

“Thank you a thousand times. I shall try the plan.”

And doffing his hat to her again, he started his mare off in the
indicated direction at a furious gallop.

Off sped the gallant beast, watched by the wife of the inventor of the
flying machine, and he soon reached the open prairie and urged his steed
along at a breakneck pace.

The Frank Reade, Jr., in question was a famous inventor of steam,
electrical and mechanical inventions of various kinds.

He had completed building the greatest air-ship he had ever conceived
of, and had added a crown to the glory of his great talent.

The inventor was then a mere youth in years, and had as companions on
his pleasure trip two tried and trusted friends.

One was a rollicking Irishman, with a good-natured, freckled face, a red
head, and a devil-may-care disposition, named Barney.

The other was a short <DW54>, with long arms and a comical face, who
answered to the name of Pomp.

The Mexican knew all about the three, as the newspapers of the period
frequently referred to them in relation to the journeys they had made
together in former inventions which Frank had conceived.

He rode along at a pace that was bound to kill his horse if he
maintained it too long, and kept his burning, eager glance fixed upon
the sky in expectation of seeing the strange invention.

It was a long ride, and to the rider it seemed to occupy ages.

“I shall—I must see him!” he muttered, desperately, as his mare sped
over the broad expanse of prairie. “If Frank Reade, Jr., will do as I
ask he shall be rewarded with a treasure which must surpass that of a
king. Oh, my poor little boy! He will certainly be sacrificed by the
Terror of the Coast if the inventor refuses to aid me in rescuing him!”

Tears welled up into his eyes at the thought of the peril in which his
little son was placed.

But in a sudden paroxysm of resolution he dashed them away and muttered
hoarsely:

“No, no, no! I must not weakly give way to tears. It is a time for
action—not repining. On, my good horse, on, on, and do what you can to
carry me to my destination in time to make one effort to save my child’s
life.”

Urging would not make the mare go faster, for she was then doing her
best, and fairly snorting from the violent exertion.

Within half an hour the town of Foxhall appeared in view, and the
Mexican’s heart leaped with joy as the twinkling lights of the windows
met his glance in the distance.

This feeling was rudely dashed, however, when, upon a nearer approach to
the settlement, he saw a huge object rise from the ground and soar up
into the sky ahead.

It then sped away from the settlement, going in a southeasterly
direction, and the man gave a groan of anguish.

“There is the flying machine now!” he gasped.

Nor was he mistaken.

The peculiar object was two enormous aluminum planes on a framework of
steel, held aloft by strong metal posts.

At the forward part was a smaller plane, the deflections and inflections
of which changed the angle of movement of the machine.

Two enormous propellers drove the air-ship ahead by whirling at a
tremendous speed, and the car was oblong forward, with a long ram,
wheels at each side for running over the ground, and a flat stern, at
which hung a rudder for use in water.

Forward on deck stood a huge electric motor for operating the drive
wheels, and before it a powerful searchlight was fastened.

The after deck was covered by a bullet-proof wire cage, and the pilot
occupied a small conning tower under the forward deck.

It was very evident that the principle of operating the Jove, as the
ship was named, was by imitating a boy’s kite.

Simply by driving the planes against the wind caused the air to lift the
machine into the sky, and once elevated, by keeping it constantly
moving, suspension was sustained.

There was a man in the turret, and two men on deck.

The Mexican could plainly distinguish their outlines, and a mad, baffled
feeling overwhelmed him.

“Must I lose after all the exertion I put forth?” he groaned, hoarsely.
“No! By heavens, I’ll chase that machine till my steed falls dead
beneath me, and I’ll scream till my voice leaves me to attract their
attention.”

He raced on wildly after the flying air-ship.

He shouted, he waved his handkerchief, and he raved at his horse to go
faster.

It was a wild and fearful ride, and it seemed to the unfortunate man as
if the Jove was fast leaving him behind as it glided through the dusky
sky.

On, on, on raced the pursuer and pursued over the open country, and
several miles were thus covered.

Finally the mare tripped and fell.

The man’s heart sank as he leaped from her back to avoid being injured
under her body.

“Merciful Heavens! This ends it!” he groaned, in despair, as he landed
upon his feet upon the ground.

That fall killed the gallant mare.

But the man paid no heed to her, for all his time and attention were
taken up staring at the Jove.

Suddenly he started, bent forward eagerly, and a thrill of joy ran
through him as he saw the great air-ship go in a circle, drop lower into
another strata of air, and approach him.

“They see me! They see me at last!” he gasped.

Up to him swept the huge air navigator, until at last it was hovering
three hundred feet aloft, just above his head.

“Hello, there!” came a hail from above.

“Take me aboard!” screamed the Mexican.

“Were you chasing us?”

“Yes—for many miles.”

“What do you want?”

“It is a desperate case. I’ll explain——”

“Come up here and explain yourself.”

“Thank God!” fervently muttered the stranger.

As this exclamation escaped his lips a long, light rope ladder came
flying down through the air.

One end of it was fastened to the air-ship.

The other end landed near the Mexican, and he rushed forward, seized it,
and began to climb up.

It was a risky climb, for the ladder swayed with every movement he made
while ascending.

He grimly kept on, though.

In a few moments he reached the deck aft.

Here the two men seized him and helped him up.

At the same moment the air-ship turned and dashed up higher into the
atmosphere and resumed its journey south-westward.

The extra weight of the Mexican seemed to make but slight difference in
the buoyancy of the machine.

He now turned his attention upon the two occupants of the cage, one of
whom was Frank Reade, Jr.




                              CHAPTER II.
                           A DANGEROUS FALL.


For a few moments a deep silence ensued between the three, for they were
sizing each other up keenly.

The Mexican observed that Frank was a fine-looking young man, with an
athletic figure, clad in a traveling costume. His handsome face showed a
good disposition and a high order of courage.

Ramey was the person with him, and he held a violin, upon which he had
been playing a lively tune.

Finally the Mexican spoke.

“You are Frank Reade, Jr., I believe?”

“I am,” admitted the inventor, “and you——”

“Juan Zamora, the alcalde, or head man of the town of Santa Cruz,
Mexico, on the Gulf coast.”

“I am pleased to know you, sir. What do you want of me?”

“A week ago I read an account of this extraordinary air-ship, and I came
at once to Readestown to try to hire the machine.”

“I regret to say I will not let it.”

“Ah, but I will pay you a princely sum for one month’s use of the
machine. I am a rich man and can afford to. Besides the sum of fifty
thousand dollars, I will put a pirate’s treasure into your hands which
is worth millions of dollars.”

“Your offer is extraordinary, Mr. Zamora.”

“But it is actuated by a most potent cause.”

“So I imagined. But explain your reason.”

“I shall. On the coast of Mexico there is a pirates’ retreat. It is
ruled by an American outlaw called Captain Diavolo. His gang numbers
several hundred men—the scum of all nations. He owns a fleet of swift
ships that prey upon passing vessels. In these attacks he is always
successful—all hands are killed, and the captured vessels are plundered
and scuttled. Many a ship that never came back, but mysteriously
disappeared, merely fell a victim to the Terror of the Coast, as we call
this fiend.”

“I have never heard of him,” said Frank.

“No; for never has one of his victims escaped to tell of his crimes.”

“What has all this to do with you?”

“I am coming to that part presently. The Mexican Government did
everything possible to get rid of him, but all its efforts proved to be
of no avail. He successfully eluded them all. Perhaps his most
relentless enemy was myself. I did all I could to break up his infernal
crew, and aroused his wrath. He swore to avenge himself upon me; to
carry out his vengeance, he one night invaded Santa Cruz with every man
he could muster, and shot every one on sight. Having driven out the
inhabitants, he plundered and set fire to many of the dwellings. My
little five-year-old son, Leon, was carried away into captivity by the
wretches, with myself, and Captain Diavolo told me that he was going to
torture me to death. As for my child, they swore to educate him to
become one of the foulest ruffians on earth, so that if he were finally
captured, he would meet a violent doom.”

“Horrible!” muttered Frank, with a shudder.

“Imagine my feelings,” said Zamora. “However, let it suffice that after
a week of captivity among the pirates, I saw the great treasure they had
amassed and learned all the secrets of their retreat. Before the day of
my execution I escaped. After many hardships I returned to my native
town. It was while I was there that I learned of this flying machine,
and gained the idea that I might hire it to attack my enemies and rescue
my little child from their clutches.”

“So that’s what you want the Jove for, eh?”

“Exactly. I am in momentary fear that Captain Diavolo may take it into
his head to kill poor little Leon, and therefore am impatient to go to
his rescue as soon as possible.”

“Can’t your Government aid you?”

“Not in the least. I have already attempted to get relief from that
source, but failed. Only by utilizing some such contrivance as this can
I hope to succeed.”

Frank was intensely interested in the man’s story, and when Zamora had
told him how he had gone to Readestown and then chased the machine, he
began to ponder deeply.

An idea flashed into his mind, and he said to Barney:

“I have faith in this unfortunate man’s story.”

“Faix! I have that same,” replied the Irishman.

“And I am going to help him.”

“More power ter yer for doin’ so.”

“We have no particular purpose in view. One has arisen. Suppose we go to
the Gulf Coast and wipe out this Terror? Would you like to undertake it,
Barney?”

“Wud a dook swim?” grinned the Celt, for the prospect of lots of
fighting and excitement just suited his taste.

Frank then shouted to Pomp, who stood steering in the conning tower:

“Did you hear what was said, Pomp?”

“’Deed I did, Marse Frank,” the <DW53> replied.

“What do you think of my plan?”

“Sabe de pickaninny an’ wallop dem yere pirates, sah?”

“That’s my idea.”

“Gwine fo’ ter git a fo’tune fo’ doin’ dat?”

“Senor Zamora says he will show us where the pirates’ treasure is if we
break up the gang, so we can take it away.”

“Close de bargain, honey; close de bargain!”

“Very well. Mr. Zamora, we will go with you to the pirates’ lair and
break up the gang and rescue your child. For this we do not want any of
your money. We will take our pay by levying on the pirates’ treasure.”

“God bless you for your kindness, Mr. Reade.”

“Say no more. We have the most dangerous kind of weapons aboard, and
need make no preparations. As you can see, this machine is a perfect
success. All we need do is to proceed to the Mexican Gulf and begin
operations as soon as possible.”

“You have no guarantee that my story is true.”

“Oh, we trust you readily enough, for should your account not be true,
we have nothing to lose.”

“I thank you and bless you from the bottom of my heart!” said the
delighted man.

“You can do that when I have accomplished something,” said Frank, with a
smile. “I shall, of course, expect you to do your share of the work in
managing this machine.”

“Most decidedly,” assented the Mexican.

“Then come inside, and I’ll show you how she works, in order to make you
familiar with the machine.”

Leaving Barney on watch in the cage on deck, the young inventor went
through the door, descended several steps, and the Mexican followed and
found himself in the cabin.

It was prettily furnished, and served as a dining-room.

Forward of this room were two small apartments, one containing some
bunks, and the other served as a kitchen, the range being heated by
electricity.

Still further forward was a large pilot-house, in which stood the <DW54>
managing the Jove’s steering wheel.

This wheel controlled the small plane forward.

A compass binnacle was beside him, and on the other side there was a
table, on which were fastened several electric controllers, levers and
switches, cut-outs and plugs.

By means of the latter the mechanism of the air-ship was controlled by
the pilot.

At the stem of the Jove was a storeroom and a dynamo-room.

The former compartment contained food, water, arms, ammunition, armor,
ropes, clothing, tools, and various other things.

In the engine-room was a huge generator, which was worked by powerful
springs, its current running to the deck motor, to which the driving
screws were geared.

The current also illuminated numerous incandescent lamps, and worked
several fan motors in each of the rooms.

Frank explained everything to the Mexican.

He then told Zamora to turn in, as he would have to go on watch at two
in the morning.

While he was speaking, Frank heard a distant yell in Pomp’s voice, and
hastened up forward.

“Stop dat, chile! Stop dat!” he heard Pomp howl wildly.

“Be heavens!” chuckled Barney’s voice; “I’d be afther takin’ a batin’
first. Biff, ye divil, take that now!”

“Ouch! my eye!” yelled the <DW53>. “Fo’ de Lor’ sakes, yo’ want to kill me
wif dat bean-shooter?”

“Ha, ha, ha!” shouted the Irishman, gleefully. “It’s dook-shot I’m
peggin’ at ye now, but it’s nothin’ less nor a cannon ball wud make a
dent in that bullet-proof head you are wearin’.”

Following this remark came a violent rattle of shot which flew from his
bean-shooter, some of which hit Pomp and made him swear like a trooper.

The Irishman was on deck, and was shooting the pellets at the <DW53>’s
head through the open windows of the tower.

Poor Pomp had to grin and take it, too, for he dared not leave the
wheel, for fear of some accident happening to the Jove.

It was hard to tell how much more he would have stood of this
bombardment had Frank not shouted:

“Why don’t you shut the windows, you donkey?”

“Lan’ sakes!” gasped Pomp, complying, “why didn’ I fink ob dat befo’?
Golly! what a fool niggah I is!”

The Irishman and the <DW53> were all the time playing practical jokes on
one another, and the moment Barney heard Frank’s voice, he looked
startled and bolted for the cage.

But he did not reach it.

Tripping over a chest, he fell to the deck.

At the same moment a slant of wind caused the air-ship to suddenly keel
over, and Barney rolled over to the edge of the deck.

He gave a wild yell of horror as he felt his body going over the oval
side, and nothing in reach to check his fall.

It seemed as if the Irishman was doomed, and a sickening sensation
passed over him as he fell from the airship.

The ground was at least one thousand feet below, and as he went plunging
down toward it, he realized that the moment he should strike there he
would instantly be killed.




                              CHAPTER III.
                         OVERTURNED IN THE AIR.


When Pomp closed the windows, he did not shut off the view of Barney,
but he paid no further heed to him.

All his care and watchfulness were necessary to guide the Jove properly,
and he turned his glance ahead again.

Frank had heard the Irishman’s frightened yell, though, and wondered
what had caused it.

Never suspecting the tragic occurrence, he went up into the cage and
glanced around curiously.

“Barney!” he exclaimed.

No reply was returned.

Nor did he see the Celt.

He became alarmed at once over the man’s disappearance.

“I say, Barney, where are you?” he continued.

Still no answer was given.

Frank rushed up on deck and glared around.

A moment later he heard a groan coming from somewhere in the gloom, and
then a husky voice crying:

“Fer ther love av Heaven, help me, Frank!”

“Where are you?” demanded the perplexed inventor.

“Hangin to a wheel on ther starboard soide, sor.”

Bending over, Frank saw him.

The Irishman was hanging below the flying machine, clinging to the after
wheel, which his hands had encountered when he made that awful plunge
earthward.

“Good heavens!” gasped Frank; “how did you get there?”

“Shure, I fell from the deck.”

“Hold on and I’ll save you.”

“Make haste, or it’s a dead man I am!”

His strength was fast waning, and Frank realized it, but the young
inventor was puzzled how to act.

The Irishman was in an awkward position to be reached, but Frank quickly
hit upon a plan whereby he might save his friend at a risk to himself.

Rushing into the cage he got a small coil of rope.

Hastily carrying it out on deck, he made one end fast to a cleat and
dropped the other end down.

Seizing the rope, Frank slid down, and getting on a level with Barney,
he found that a distance of about ten feet separated him from his
friend.

“Hurry!” groaned the Celt. “I can’t howld on much longer.”

“I’ll have you in a moment.”

“Begorra, yer can’t raich me from there.”

“Oh, yes, I shall.”

“How?” demanded Barney.

“You’ll see. When I grab you, you let go your hold.”

“It’s me loife will be in your hands.”

“Oh, I realize that, and will look out for you.”

As Frank spoke he wound one arm and leg around the rope to keep a firm
hold, and then began to swing the line.

Back and forth he swayed, each moment drawing closer to his imperilled
companion.

Finally he swung in arm’s reach of Barney and grabbed him by the arm, at
the same moment shouting:

“Let go.”

Having implicit confidence in the young inventor, the Celt obeyed, and
they swung back.

There they swayed like a huge clock pendulum in mid air, Frank holding
the Irishman by the arm with one hand.

Back and forth they tossed for several moments, the violent action of
the line diminishing momentarily.

Finally it had almost paused.

“Are you rested?” panted Frank.

“Yis, a troifle.”

“And I’m rapidly exhausting.”

“How are we ter git out av this?”

“Can’t you hang on to the rope a little?”

“I can that. Give me a grip.”

He managed to get hold of the line.

The line was grating upon the edge of the deck above, and straining and
creaking dangerously under the combined weight of the two.

For a few seconds they clung to the line, and Frank cast an anxious
glance upward at it, and muttered:

“I hope it won’t break.”

“Faith, we’ll both go down if it do!”

“Hey, Pomp!” shouted the inventor.

“Yes, sah,” replied the <DW53>, from the pilot-house.

“Come out here—quick—we’re in danger!”

“Lawd amassy! I dassent leabe de wheel!”

“Fasten it.”

The <DW53> obeyed reluctantly, for as soon as his hands left the spokes,
the soaring machine began to get unsteady.

It would glide ahead smoothly awhile, then would suddenly plunge to one
side or the other, or move up or down.

Out came the <DW54>.

As soon as he saw the peril his comrades were in, though, he forgot all
about the Jove, and roared:

“Kain’t yo’ git up, sah?”

“Not very well without help,” Frank replied.

“Whut yo’ want me to do, honey?”

“Send down a noosed line.”

Pomp complied with the greatest alacrity.

While Frank held Barney, the Irishman put the noose around his body, and
Pomp fastened the end of the line.

In a remarkably short space of time the Celt was left hanging there and
Frank ascended to the deck.

As soon as he regained his breath, and recovered from his exhaustion, he
and Pomp hauled Barney up.

It was some time afterward before they had entirely recovered from the
effects of their violent exertion, and discussed all the details of the
matter.

As no one was injured, and Barney needed a good rest, he finally turned
in and fell asleep.

Frank then relieved his sable friend of the wheel.

“We will assume the first watch,” he suggested.

“To be sho’,” assented Pomp. “Am yo’ satisfied wif her, Massa Frank?”

“Yes; the machine is certainly the greatest invention I have ever turned
out. And she’s the simplest kind of an air-ship to work. It is only
necessary to elevate the angle of the propeller plane, drive her faster,
and ascend to any height. To go down, the impinging edge of the forward
plane is simply depressed, and she descends. To remain at a fixed
altitude we have only to keep the rudder perfectly horizontal.”

“No gas bags to bust wif dis high flyer.”

“And as long as our mechanism operates she’ll go ahead.”

“But s’posin’ de propellers done stop?”

“She would fall gently, as her planes would act on the wind like
parachutes,” replied Frank, promptly.

“Dat make her safer yet, don’ it, chile?”

“Of course,” Frank assented, with a nod.

“Yo’ gwine straight to de Gulf of Mexico?”

“I am. In two or three days we’ll reach it, too.”

“Dat am if nuffin’ happen, sah.”

Frank nodded and smiled, and examined the electric motors to see that
the current did not vary.

The dynamo was working under full load of five hundred volts, with an
output of thirty kilowatts at the terminals, and as the gloom of night
had fallen, Frank turned one of the switches.

It sent the electric current into the searchlight, and a brilliant flood
of fifty thousand candle power light gushed out.

A funnel-shaped streak of white light was projected a mile ahead by the
powerful lens, and the barometer showed the inventor that they had gone
up to a height of nine hundred and sixty rods, or three miles.

People on the earth imagined the searchlight was a comet with an
extremely long tail, when the clouds did not conceal its flight across
the firmament.

Although the wind was dead ahead, and the strata they were in blew at
the velocity of fifty miles an hour, the Jove was forging into it at the
rate of forty miles an hour.

Frank depressed the rudder, and the machine slowly drifted downward, as
she was then in an extremely cold region.

At two o’clock Zamora and Barney relieved the inventor and the <DW53>, who
thereupon turned in.

The airship traveled stiffly, steadily and well for two days, traversing
the continent in a southerly direction and passing the most diversified
scenery.

When night fell upon the scene again the sky had a dark, ominous
appearance.

Indeed, Frank realized that as they were in the tropical cyclone region
he had cause to fear a heavy storm, and for that reason he refused to
retire.

Barney remained up with him that night.

Toward midnight the airship stood at an altitude of 5,280 feet in the
air, when a jet-black cloud was encountered.

She was rushing toward it, and the cloud ran at her.

In a moment she was shot into the middle of it.

Her entrance into the cloud seemed to agitate it.

At first the motion was easy, but gradually it intensified, and began to
shake and toss the Jove.

Then it began to whirl.

Soon this motion grew furious.

The airship was checked in its flight, and spun around with the gyrating
cloud at an appalling speed.

“A cyclone!” gasped Frank, in alarm.

“Look out!” yelled Barney. “We’re upsettin’!”

The Jove was suddenly hurled high up into the air like a mere wisp of
straw in the terrible blast.

It was then dashed downward by a reacting gust, and as it fell, it swung
over upon its side and suddenly capsized.

A scene of terrible confusion followed.




                              CHAPTER IV.
                             POMP’S ESCAPE.


Most everything aboard the airship was stationary; but there were, of
course, many loose articles, and they were sent flying in all directions
when the machine capsized.

Frank was holding the wheel, and thus saved himself from being knocked
about, but the Irishman was sent flying.

He was slammed against the wall, then he was rolled over and over until
finally he laid on the ceiling.

A second plunge of the machine bounced him across the room, and he
seized a post and clung to it.

Pomp and Zamora fared equally as hard, and every one of them suffered a
tremendous thumping from the flying articles that pelted them all over.

“Look out you don’t go through a window!” shouted Frank.

“Be heavens, it’s black an’ blue I am, entoirely!” Barney groaned.

“We are falling earthward now!”

“Howly St. Pathrick! Sthop her!”

“I can’t.”

“Then we’re kilt!”

Down plunged the machine swiftly.

Its movement sent a sickening sensation through them.

A deafening thunder clap roared out close by, and at the same instant
there came a flash of blinding lightning.

The shock and glare were awful.

It seemed to Frank that the airship had been struck by the bolt.

At any rate the wind got under the planes a moment after she capsized,
and the speed of her descent brought an awful pressure to bear upon
them.

The result was that the planes were forced up, and as the car was
heaviest, it rapidly went down.

In a moment more the Jove had righted herself, and the speed of her
descent rapidly diminished.

A cry of joy escaped her crew.

“Safe!” exclaimed Frank.

“Begob, I kin hardly belave me eyes!” replied Barney.

In rushed the <DW54> and the Mexican excitedly, and the latter asked:

“Has the machine broken?”

“Oh, no,” replied Frank. “We are quite safe now.”

“’Spec she done stood on her head,” said Pomp.

“Yes, she capsized, but righted herself.”

“Hadn’t yer betther start thim propellers?” Barney asked.

“Ain’t they revolving?” queried the inventor, in surprise.

“Divil a bit.”

“Queer. I left the current on.”

“Ef de Jove was gwine ahead, honey,” said Pomp, “I reckon she wouldn’t
fall dis way, would she?”

“No. Something must have happened to the machinery. I will examine it
and find out.”

As the inventor spoke he set to work.

The Jove was descending in huge circles, and the two great propellers
hung perfectly motionless.

Every few moments a violent gust of wind struck the machine, and spun it
around like a top or dashed her ahead, up, down, or sidewise.

The lightning kept blazing, and claps of the heaviest thunder rolled and
crashed incessantly.

Still they kept falling, and as the planes acted as parachutes their
descent was necessarily very gradual.

Finding nothing wrong inside, Frank passed out on deck just as the
machine dropped from the storm cloud into a perfect deluge of rain.

Although the inventor was drenched in a minute, he paid no heed to this
inconvenience, but examined the motor.

Here he found the cause of the trouble.

The lightning had hit the field magnet, glanced off, and tore the
insulation from the wire winding.

It thus was caused to leak, and as no magnetic influence was imparted,
the Jove’s propellers failed to operate.

Frank could not repair the damage then.

“Yo’ fine de trouble, Marse Frank?” cried Pomp, joining him.

“Yes; the magnet was injured by the lightning.”

“Golly! Kain’t yo’ fix it?”

“Not now. We’ll land in a minute.”

“Whar am we, chile?”

“Blest if I know. Over Mexico somewhere.”

“Dat yere gulf kain’t be far off.”

“I quite agree with you.”

The searchlight was now deflected by Barney, and it showed Frank the
ground below.

A number of tall, slender cocoa palms were scattered here and there, and
among them grew numberless huge cactus plants.

“There’s danger of hitting a tree, Barney!” cried Frank.

“Faith, it’s little I kin do wid ther ruddher,” the Celt replied.

“Try to keep her off them.”

“Shure, I have me oye on thim.”

Frank watched the ship’s descent keenly.

She was going at a gradual angle for the earth, and soon arrived within
fifty feet of the ground.

As she swept ahead, two huge palms loomed up directly in her path.

Barney made a desperate effort to avoid them.

“Look out!” he yelled.

“Can’t you turn her?” asked Frank, anxiously.

“Not an inch.”

“Then we’ll strike.”

“Bedad, I——”

Crash!

Barney’s remark was interrupted.

The Jove had gone in violent contact with the trees, and the shock
knocked Pomp down.

Frank was more fortunate, as he clung to the rail, and the <DW53> fell
from the deck.

“Murder!” he howled.

“Thunder!” gasped Frank, in alarm.

He expected to find the <DW54> a mangled corpse.

There was no time to see where Pomp landed, for the Jove glided
backward, and then darted ahead again.

She missed the trees, and quickly struck the ground, with several of her
stays broken by the collision.

As she landed at an angle upon her wheels she merely received a gentle
shock, and skated ahead over the ground for a distance of several
hundred feet.

Then she paused.

Out rushed Barney and Zamora.

“Do she be hurted?” asked the Celt.

“Not as badly as I expected,” Frank answered.

“I feared the worst, senor,” said the Mexican.

“Oh, she is strongly built.”

“Where’s the naygur?”

“The shock knocked him from the deck.”

“Bad cess to ther spalpeen, why did he fall at all?”

“Couldn’t help himself, I presume.”

“It’s ther undhertaker he’ll be needin’ now.”

“I fear he’s badly hurt. Come and see.”

They alighted and ran back, looking for the <DW53>.

It was so dark, however, that they could not see except when the
lightning flashed.

Although they keenly looked about whenever they had the chance, and
reached the palms they had struck, they saw nothing of Pomp.

“Shure, he must have garn clane troo ther ground,” said Barney.

“It’s queer where he could have disappeared.”

“Hey, naygur!” yelled Barney.

As he ceased speaking a green cocoanut flew through the air, banged
against his head, almost knocking him down, and the nut burst and
drenched him with the milk it contained.

“Worra! Worra!” yelled Barney. “It’s a mane thrick fer ther loikes av
you to play on me, Frank.”

“I didn’t play any trick on you, Barney,” replied the inventor, in
surprise.

“D’yer mane ter say yer didn’t soak me wid a cobble sthone?”

“I most certainly did not.”

“Feel av me head; it’s broken intoirely, an’——”

Biff! came another nut just then.

It caught Barney in the breadbasket, made him grunt, and he doubled up
and fell to the ground.

As he did so the lightning flashed, and he saw the grinning face of Pomp
in the top of the tree.

“It’s that ebony gorilla!” he howled, and he sprang to his feet, spit on
his hands, danced up and down, and waving his fists, he yelled:

“Come down out av that, ye pug-nosed bandit, till I take a lung out av
yer!”

“Ain’t gwine ter come down till yer g’way,” replied Pomp.

“Be heavens, I’ll chop down ther tree, then!”

“Shut up, Barney,” cried Frank. “I say, Pomp.”

“Yassah.”

“How did you get up there?”

“Done falled here off de boat.”

“I see. That tree top must have been under her at the time.”

“Spec so, honey.”

“Come down. Are you hurt any?”

“Lordy, no. Amn’t eben scratched. Take away dat I’ish setter, an I come
down dar.”

Frank sent Barney away, and the <DW53> reached the earth glad enough over
his providential escape.

Barney was so glad to see his friend safe that he did not molest him
when they returned to the Jove.

Despite the storm, the four got at the broken and damaged parts of the
airship and repaired them.

Then they set a watch for the night, and turned in with the intention of
departing at daybreak.




                               CHAPTER V.
                        THE TERROR OF THE COAST.


“Great heavens! What is the meaning of this?”

Frank gave utterance to this startled exclamation just as the light of
the rising sun streamed into the room where he had been peacefully
sleeping.

A violent shake had aroused him.

Glancing up he observed half a dozen strange men in the cabin, and a
keen scrutiny showed him that they were a gang of ruffians of the vilest
stamp.

They were of different nationalities, were clad in rough garments, their
faces were darkened by the sun, and every one of them carried weapons in
their belts.

Frank sat bolt upright.

As he did so, the biggest man in the party pulled a huge navy revolver
from his belt, pointed it squarely at the inventor’s head, and cried in
the Mexican language:

“Stop, or I’ll fire!”

Frank was a good linguist and understood him.

The action confirmed his suspicions of these individuals who had entered
while all were sleeping.

In nowise frightened by the Mexican’s action or remark, the young
inventor coolly replied in Spanish:

“What do you want?”

“First, I want to know what this contrivance is?”

“A flying machine,” answered Frank.

An incredulous roar of laughter greeted this explanation, all the
strangers joining in.

Finally the big man subdued his mirth, and chuckled:

“A flying machine, eh?”

“Exactly,” was Frank’s emphatic reply.

“Do you mean to say it can fly?”

“Yes; of course; how else could we get it here?”

“I’ll make you prove your assertion presently.”

“Oh, I can easily do that,” said Frank. “What next?”

“Have you any valuables aboard here?”

“That depends upon what you consider valuable.”

“Money or jewelry.”

“We have a few hundred dollars,” admitted Frank, quickly, as he observed
his companions now awake.

“Oh, you have, eh? Where are they?”

“Why do you wish to know?”

“What an innocent you are, to be sure. Why, I want them.”

“You are thieves, then?”

“Never mind our characters. Shell out!”

“May I ask your names first?”

“I don’t mind telling you. Very likely you have heard of me before, as
I’m well known. I am Captain Diavolo!”

If he expected to create a sensation with this announcement he was not
mistaken.

Frank did not expect to meet the person he was in quest of so soon, or
under these circumstances.

He did not betray any agitation, however.

“So,” he remarked, “you are the Terror of the Coast, eh?”

“Yes; and now you know enough not to trifle with me.”

“Are you not the man who abducted little Leon Zamora?”

“Of course I am; and I’ve got the young whelp yet.”

“I presume the child is safe and well?”

“And I’m sorry to say he is!” growled the pirate, with a dark scowl. “I
owe his accursed father a debt of vengeance, and I’ll take satisfaction
out of the brat!”

Frank glanced at Zamora.

He had drawn Captain Diavolo out in order to let the anxious father hear
that his son was safe.

The information must have filled Zamora with intense relief, and Frank
quietly asked the pirate:

“Where is the little boy?”

“That’s none of your confounded business,” roared the pirate. “I did not
come here to hold a confidential talk with you; we merely want your
valuables.”

“Will you then depart?”

“Perhaps—with this machine.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’ll see if it works. If it should prove useful I’ll take it to use for
my own purposes.”

“Ah, I see. Where did you come from?”

“The coast, of course.”

“Is it near here?”

“Less than a league.”

“Now tell me——”

“Shut up, I tell you! Give me your money!”

“I’ll have to get up to do that.”

“Very well; rise. But if you offer to play any tricks on me I’ll let
daylight through your head!”

Frank nodded and smiled.

Leisurely rising, he put on his clothes.

The men with Captain Diavolo could not help admiring his coolness and
courage in the face of the present danger.

As soon as Frank was ready he said:

“Come this way.”

“You fellows remain here,” exclaimed the captain in English to his men.
“If any of those men in the berths attempt to get up, fire at them. Do
you hear?”

“Ay, ay!” replied the sailors.

Frank had gone ahead into the pilot-house, and rapidly unfastening an
electric wire from a binding-post, he hooked it upon the brass handle of
a drawer in the wainscoting.

This drawer was locked.

Just as he finished the captain stalked in.

He still clutched his pistol in his hand, and glaring at Frank, he
growled in curious tones:

“Why have you brought me in here?”

“To give you our valuables.”

“Well, where are they?”

“In that drawer.”

“Take them out.”

“Get them yourself if you want them.”

“Remember my threat! If you move, I’ll fire.”

“Oh, I can’t get away. I’m cornered.”

A sardonic grin overspread the dark, bearded face of the rascal, and
laying his pistol on the floor within easy reach as he knelt before the
drawer, he seized the handle.

Then he gave a pull.

But the drawer refused to open.

“It’s locked!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, no,” replied Frank. “It sticks. Use both hands.”

The thief complied and gave a long, strong pull.

At the same moment Frank turned a switch, which sent a powerful electric
current into the metal handle of the drawer, through the wire he had
hooked on there.

The muscles of Captain Diavolo tightened spasmodically upon the handles
so that he could not release them.

“Santa Maria!” he screamed, in hoarse tones of surprise, as he glared at
his hands and wondered why he could not relax his grip. “I’m full of
needles!”

“You don’t say!” laughed Frank, picking up his revolver and cocking it.
“How strange!”

“By the fiend! I can’t let go!”

“So much the worse for you. That fact places you at my mercy!” said
Frank, grimly.

“Oh, don’t shoot me. I haven’t done you any harm.”

“I will fire if you don’t stop struggling.”

As Frank said this, he started the big propellers.

With a loud, whirring sound they whirled around, and drove the airship
ahead over the ground on her wheels.

The men in the back room became alarmed, and one of them rushed out the
back door to see why the Jove was speeding along over the ground.

The machine gathered headway rapidly, and soon was speeding at the rate
of forty miles an hour.

The wind got under her planes and up in the air she rose like a mighty
bird, and shot ahead.

All the men now became terrified.

Rushing aft they reached the deck, and as the Jove was ascending, they
sprang to the ground one after another, and rolled over and over.

Captain Diavolo was left to his fate, yelling like a demon to be
relieved of the awful electric current, for he did not know what it was.

Higher and higher mounted the airship upon the wind, and all Frank’s
companions hastily got up, dressed and saw what had happened to the
invaders.

Then they rushed into the pilot-room.

Just as they entered Captain Diavolo gave a strong pull at the handle of
the drawer, and tore it off.

As the electric wire became detached the current ceased, and the burly
rascal dropped the handle.

Turning round, he came face to face with Zamora!

For an instant they stood glaring fiercely at each other, the outlaw too
surprised to utter a single word.

“What have you done with my child?” cried the Mexican.

“You—here?” gasped the captain, chokingly.

“Answer my question, you beast, or I’ll strangle you!”

“You’ll never know!” hissed the pirate, vindictively.

“I’ll tear the secret from you!” shouted Zamora, excitedly, and he
sprang at his enemy.

They grappled.

Zamora had the pirate by the throat.

For a few moments a fierce struggle went on.

Then they fell heavily to the floor, where the fight was resumed with
the most bitter animosity.




                              CHAPTER VI.
                        SHOT BY A LAND BATTERY.


In the midst of Zamora’s excitement, he evidently designed to kill
Captain Diavolo, for he had his hand on the pirate’s windpipe and choked
him until he was blue in the face.

“Tell me where Leon is,” the Mexican kept panting, furiously. “Tell me
what you have done with my child!”

“Let go!” hoarsely gasped the pirate. “I’ll tell nothing.”

“Separate them, boys,” said Frank to his friends.

Barney and Pomp carried out this order with great difficulty, as the two
fighters resented their interference.

They finally dragged Zamora away, however, and Barney exclaimed, in
wrathy tones:

“Kape sthill, ye <DW55>! D’yer want to chate ther hangman out av a
beautiful job?”

“Let me get at him!” panted Zamora, furiously.

“Whoa!” roared Pomp. “Mild up dar, Bolivar! Don’ want no funerals heah.
Sit down dar, or we’ll make yo’!”

And they pinned him into a chair.

Frank in the meantime had cut the current out of the live wire for fear
of its setting fire to the carpet, and then he leveled the big pistol at
the captain, and said, sternly:

“Hands up, sir!”

“I obey,” said Diavolo, complying quickly.

“Drop down on your knees.”

“Yes, sir; but do not fire.”

And down he went on his marrow bones, with his hands raised above his
head, and the early morning sunlight streaming through the pilot-room
windows upon his pale, haggard face.

The Jove was still mounting higher in the air, and the five men who had
been with the captain and jumped overboard had now vanished from view in
a dense thicket.

Three miles away to the southward lay the sparkling waters of the
Mexican Gulf.

“Barney, bind this man,” said Frank, “and then we may learn where he has
his ships and stronghold, and the little boy prisoner.”

“What do you intend to do with me?” asked the prisoner, uneasily.

“You will see when the proper time comes,” Frank replied.

Barney quickly had him secured.

There was a sullen look upon his face as he sat on the floor glaring up
at his captors, and he exclaimed:

“If you imagine you can induce me to tell you any of my secrets, you
will find yourself wofully mistaken.”

“On the contrary,” replied Frank, with a smile of confidence, “you will
impart to me all the information I desire.”

“Death itself has no terrors for me——”

“But living torture may.”

Diavolo turned pale.

This was just what he feared.

Frank observed his evident alarm.

“I see I’ve touched your weak point,” he remarked.

The captain made no reply, but a sullen look settled upon his hang-dog
face, and he gnashed his teeth.

“Shall I bate ther head av him?” asked Barney, cheerfully.

“No,” replied Frank; “but you can fasten the end of that copper wire
around his neck.”

A veritable howl escaped the pirate when Barney carried out Frank’s
instructions, for he had had a sample of the wire, and knew what to
expect.

“For pity’s sake, don’t let me suffer that again,” he begged.

“As long as you answer my questions,” said Frank, “I will do you no
harm; refuse, and you will get a shock fully ten times stronger than the
first one.”

“Speak! What shall I tell you?”

“First, where are we to find Leon Zamora?”

“At my retreat,” was the reluctant reply.

“In what part of it?”

“My castle cellar.”

“How many men have you?”

“One hundred and fifty.”

“Ships, and what kind?”

“Two schooners and a steamer.”

“All manned and armed?”

“Yes. Each has a crew of thirty or forty men, and carries guns.”

“Where are these vessels?”

“Two are cruising and one is at my stronghold.”

“Tell me where your retreat is.”

“A few miles from Santa Anna.”

“Many men there?”

“Over fifty, and the wives of all hands.”

Frank questioned him further, and learned a great many points about the
pirates.

He realized several times that the captain lied and evaded his
questions, but, upon the whole, he had learned nearly all he wanted to
know.

In conclusion he asked the captain:

“How did you and your men happen to find this machine?”

“We were passing here by chance on our way to our settlement, when we
caught view of her, and came aboard.”

“I see,” muttered Frank, nodding.

“Where are my men—prisoners?”

“No; they jumped overboard and escaped.”

“I’m glad of that.”

“No doubt.”

Frank then ordered his two chums to lock the man up in one of the rooms,
and as they led him from the pilot-house, the Mexican said to the young
inventor:

“With that scoundrel as a hostage, we will be sure to recover my child
in exchange for him.”

“Just what I figured on,” responded Frank.

“I can pilot you to his stronghold now if you like.”

“Post me on the course, by all means,” replied Frank, eagerly; “for I
wish to go there to-morrow.”

“Very well.”

They finally turned in and passed a peaceful night, and on the following
day Zamora posted himself at the window and gazed out.

After a brief survey of the landscape below, he cried:

“Steer to the eastward, Mr. Reade.”

Frank changed the angle of the steering plane, and the airship turned to
port, and sped along on a beam wind.

Below them laid the coast, and the storm was gone.

Not a sail was in view on the Gulf, but some leagues away the village of
Santa Anna was to be seen.

There were some reefs and keys lying off the shore, on which the sea was
breaking, and a few sea gulls skimmed through the sky beneath the Jove.

Every few minutes schools of flying fish rose from the water, fluttered
their gauzy, gleaming wings, shot across a distance of a few yards, and
plunged into the water again.

Here and there a few sparse palms sent their gaunt forms towering
skyward from the midst of arid open places, dense jungles and huge
swamps.

Finally Zamora pointed ahead and said:

“There is the pirates’ stronghold.”

“Let me see,” said Frank, curiously.

As he looked down he observed a large land-locked lagoon which was fed
by a long creek from the Gulf.

Along the creek on both sides were several forts with powerful guns
mounted behind stout walls of masonry.

It would be impossible for a ship hostile to the pirates to traverse the
creek without being destroyed before it could reach the lagoon.

Moreover, the creek was so shallow that only vessels of light draught
could pass up or down; hence war ships of almost any type could not
float there.

High hills and rocks surrounded the lagoon, so that it was concealed
from the view of any one on land or sea, and vigilant sentinels were to
be seen keeping a close guard.

The village of the pirates consisted of a cluster of stone houses
planted around the head waters of the lagoon.

In their midst rose a more imposing edifice, which was evidently used by
Diavolo, and dubbed his castle.

There were numerous men, women and children thronging the narrow streets
of the village, gazing up at the airship and betraying the most intense
excitement.

As soon as Zamora saw the castle, he said:

“There’s the place where my child is confined.”

“I’m going down and try to get him,” Frank replied.

“Now?” asked the Mexican, in surprise and delight.

“Yes, now; tell the boys to arm themselves.”

Zamora hastened out and Frank stopped the propellers, whereupon the Jove
began to settle down.

As she was going down, Frank caught view of several men at a swivel gun
in one of the forts.

They were aiming the piece at the airship.

Frank rapidly made up his mind to drop a hand grenade down upon the gun
to destroy it.

Before he could carry out this plan, however, there came a sudden report
from the weapon.

A shot flew screaming up at the flying machine.

Frank saw it coming.

He made a rapid effort to avoid it.

But he failed to do so.

Straight at the Jove flew the shot.

It struck the planes and passed through them.

Two large holes were made in them through which the air rushed rapidly.

A cry of dismay escaped the inventor.

“They’ve crippled us!” he groaned.

In a few moments the Jove landed in the water of the lagoon with a
violent splash, and the pirates gave a yell, and rushing to their
rowboats, embarked, and pulled out to her.




                              CHAPTER VII.
                           STUCK IN THE MUD.


The Jove was as buoyant as a cork, and readily floated upon the water
when she recovered from her first plunge in the brine.

Frank had built her for such an emergency as this, and knew she could
not stay under water.

But the planes were injured by the shot, and she could not be driven
aloft until they were repaired.

In the meantime our friends were exposed to great danger, for all the
pirates who had been in the settlement had embarked in a fleet of
rowboats and were approaching.

“They are armed to the teeth, and evidently mean to attack us now,” said
Frank, as his companions ran in.

“Bedad, it’s a warm reception they’ll be afther gettin’,” the Irishman
replied, with a grin.

“What a pity the Jove met with this misfortune,” said Zamora,
disappointedly. “I was expecting to rescue my boy and now we cannot do
so, but must spend our time fighting these villains. It is a shame!”

“Gosh!” said Pomp; “dey am bery nigh us now, Marse Frank, an’ dis chile
s’pecs we done bettah git ready fo’ ’em.”

The inventor nodded.

He closed the metal shutters over the windows by pulling a lever, and
geared the steering wheel to the stern rudder.

Then he started the big propellers fanning the air, and they drove the
boat through the water at a moderate rate.

“It’s as good as a sthameboat she bes,” said Barney.

“Yes. The propellers move her fairly well.”

“By jingo! dey cotch us, dough, wif dem yere rowboats.”

“I expect they will, Pomp.”

Just then one of the pirates yelled in Spanish:

“Surrender!”

“Never!” replied Frank.

“Do you want us to fire at you?”

“That’s immaterial to me.”

The inventor’s cool indifference angered the man, and he turned to his
companions and gave them an order.

A volley of pistol and rifle shots followed.

They played a tattoo upon the airship, but she was proof against such
weapons, and the bullets did no harm.

“Fools!” said Frank, contemptuously; “they might just as well fling
pebbles against a brick wall.”

“G’way from dar now!” roared Pomp, as he dashed out on deck, with the
Mexican and Irishman. “G’way, I tele yo’, chilen! D’yo’ want us to plug
yo’ full ob lead, huh?”

By way of reply came a second volley.

The bullets merely flattened against the netting or glanced off, for
they had not force enough to penetrate.

Protruding the muzzles of their repeating air rifles through the
loopholes in the cage, the three now opened fire upon the men in the
rowboats.

Many a cry of agony told that the persons aimed at had been hit by the
bullets.

It surprised the natives to find that they could not reach our friends,
and it alarmed them to discover that they were getting the worst of the
battle.

Accordingly they rapidly retreated.

Thirty shots had been fired at them, and not a sound save a puff of wind
came from the rifles, but the bullets were patterned after torpedoes and
burst upon contact.

Fearful execution followed as the flying fragments of the exploded
bullets scattered and hit the various ones.

Although only thirty shots had been fired, as was said, at least fifty
men were wounded.

“Dey am gwine,” said Pomp.

“Frightened, I’ll bet,” Barney added.

“Chase them, Mr. Reade,” shouted the Mexican.

“No; let them go,” Frank replied from the dome. “We must try to get out
of the water and repair the planes.”

“Yes; but the moment we get up in the air they will fire at the Jove and
drop her again.”

“Not if we keep high out of gun range in future,” Frank answered, he
sent the machine shoreward.

He was heading his invention to land at a point distant from where the
gang were.

But just as she arrived within fifty feet of the shore, there came a
grating sound under her keel, and then a heavy shock which ran through
her, and almost felled the crew where they stood.

The Jove paused.

She had run into a mud flat.

It had been hidden under the water.

There she stuck, as if held by a vise.

“Confound it!” cried Frank, in tones of vexation, when he saw what
happened. “We are in a trap.”

“Put full power into the propellers,” suggested Zamora.

Frank tried the plan.

It proved useless, however.

He finally cut out the electric current.

“It’s of no use!” he exclaimed, in an exasperated tone.

A yell of joy escaped their enemies just then, for they seemed to
realize what had happened.

“Howl, ye divils!” roared Barney, shaking his fist at them angrily,
“but, be me sowl! it’s a dose of hot lead I’ll pump inter yez, if I have
me own way about it!”

“Whut yer gwine ter do?” shouted Pomp.

“All I can think of is to wait for the rising tide to lift us,” replied
Frank, after a moment’s thought.

This plan did not suit the rest.

It meant a long delay.

Before they liberated the Jove there was a strong chance of the pirate
gang getting the best of them.

Still they had to endure what followed.

Within a short time Frank saw a number of the gang appear upon the roof
of the castle.

Through an opening he observed that they were hauling a gun into
position to train it upon the Jove.

“See there, boys. Look up at the castle!” he exclaimed.

“Holy floy!” roared Barney. “It’s a target they’ll make av us! D’yez
moind ther ould pop-gun av thim?”

“Two shots from that piece may destroy us,” said the Mexican, in serious
tones.

“Dunno!” replied Pomp, seriously. “’Spec not.”

“You forget our Gatling,” interposed Frank.

Barney gave a cheer.

He rushed inside the next moment.

“Pomp, ye rapscallion! come wid me!” he cried.

“Gwine to fotch de gun out, honey?”

“I am that.”

They both vanished.

When they were seen again they were hauling out a rapid fire gun
operated by electricity.

It was one of Frank’s best inventions.

The weapon was capable of firing 1,000 shots a minute, and as the
bullets hurled from the piece were steel explosive shells, it may be
inferred what a dangerous piece of mechanism the gun was when in
operation.

As soon as it was on deck Frank loaded it by adjusting a coil of
cartridges on a reel at the breech fastened to a long ribbon.

Arranging the cold water reservoir for keeping it cool, and attaching
two electric wires, the inventor was ready.

The turn of a wheel brought the muzzle to the desired elevation, and in
a moment Frank touched a small lever.

That put the piece in operation.

The reports that followed were blended so closely together that they
sounded like the ripping of a piece of silk.

And the flying shots fairly whistled.

As that appalling hail of bullets began to fly up at the gunners upon
the roof, several fell.

The rest ran for their lives, and the weapon they had been preparing was
almost destroyed.

One round was enough.

Frank smiled, and remarked:

“We are rid of them now.”

“Then we are safe?” ventured Zamora.

“Temporarily,” answered the inventor.

A quarter of an hour passed slowly by.

At the end of that time the distant booming of a gun was heard coming
from the direction of the forts.

A shell flew through the air and landed in the lagoon, not far from
where the Jove lay.

Frank gave a start.

A troubled look crossed his face.

“That’s bad!” he muttered.

“Whar dat shot cum from?” asked Pomp, uneasily.

“One of the forts.”

“Faith! it’s bombarded we are, thin?” asked Barney.

“I fear so.”

All could share his alarm.

They realized their jeopardy only too well.

Fast where she floated, the airship was almost at the mercy of her
enemy’s guns, and it made them feel uneasy.

“To see us is impossible from the forts,” said Frank, “but a stray shot
may fly this way and hit us.”

“Can’t we reply?” asked Zamora.

“No. Our gun is not a mortar, and in this case is almost useless,”
replied the young inventor, sadly.

“Fo’ de lawd! must we stay heah, an’ take all dey sen’?”

“I see no help for it,” Frank answered.

The prospect made all feel decidedly blue, and they soon heard another
report and saw a second shell coming.




                             CHAPTER VIII.
                      ATTACKING THE PIRATES’ LAIR.


The morning was far advanced by the time the second shot came from the
fort somewhere along the creek.

The ball landed in the water near the stranded Jove, and Frank anxiously
gazed at the shore to see if the tide was rising.

It was impossible to lift the flying machine from the mud flat till the
tide came up.

The pirates in the rowboat had all gone ashore.

“One of their shots is bound to hit us if we remain here long enough,”
said Frank. “We must get ashore.”

“How kin yo’ lif’ de airship off ob de mud?” asked Pomp.

“I’ll find a means of moving her!”

As Frank made this assertion he pondered deeply, and finally passed into
the engine-room.

The dynamo was working at its full capacity, and the big propellers were
whirling furiously.

Yet there was not power enough to drag the Jove off the mud flat by
going ahead.

“Why not reverse the screws?” thought Frank.

It was an inspiration.

He tried the plan.

It was much easier to back the Jove from the muddy elevation than to
force her over it, he soon found.

Within a few moments she was dragged free.

A subdued cheer escaped her crew.

Back she went into deep water.

Once afloat Frank changed her course.

She reached the hard shore, left the lagoon, and ran upon the land
rapidly.

Then the Gatling gun was put in operation, and the crowd fled
precipitately.

Ignorant of the boat’s landing, the men at the fort kept bombarding the
water with shots.

Into the main street of the village ran the Jove, her huge planes
towering high as she rolled along.

“Erin go bragh!” roared Barney. “We’re off!”

Bang, bang, bang! went the gun, and a veritable hail of bullets whistled
through the streets and rattled against the houses as she ran.

“They fear us now, and are retreating,” cried Frank.

“Bueno!” Zamora replied, excitedly. “Head for the castle, and perhaps,
in their excitement, we may save my boy.”

Pomp ran forward to join Frank.

As he passed the compartment in which Captain Diavolo had been confined,
he saw the door standing open.

The <DW53> was startled.

He paused and peered in.

Captain Diavolo was missing.

An open window showed how he escaped.

“Fo’ de lawd amussy!” gasped Pomp.

Then he saw that the pirate had severed his bonds on the edge of a piece
of broken bottle lying on the floor.

He had evidently knocked the bottle from a shelf and smashed it in order
to get the piece of glass.

“De prisoner hab escaped!” roared the <DW53>, excitedly.

“That’s bad,” commented Frank, gravely.

Pomp explained matters.

When he finished the inventor stopped the Jove.

Barney and Zamora ran in, the latter shouting:

“Ain’t you going ahead?”

“No,” replied Frank. “At least not until we repair the planes. We are
crippled without their aid.”

“Amn’t dis rudder a dangerous place fo’ ter done dat, sah?”

“No, Pomp; for all the pirates are gone.”

Frank rushed out on deck as he spoke, and after a keen survey of the
injured parts, he returned within the machine, procured the necessary
tools, and said:

“Barney, come and help me.”

“Go ahead wid yer, Misther Frank.”

“Dem yere pirates gwine to swat yer wif a shot a minute yo’ poke yo’
nose out de doah,” cautioned the <DW53>.

“You and Zamora keep guard,” replied Frank.

“Very well,” replied the Mexican, grasping a rifle.

The young inventor and his companion thereupon left the interior and ran
up the shrouds.

Quickly reaching the first plane, they set to work with a will and began
repairing it.

A patch was put over the hole and riveted.

This done, they ascended to the top plane and began to work, but in a
few moments a volley of distant shots was heard, and a storm of bullets
flew around them.

Barney gave a cry of pain.

“Shot?” queried Frank, in alarm.

“Shure; I have a bullet in me brain!”

“And still live?”

“Och, worra, worra! I’m a dead man!”

“Let me see where it hit you?”

“Clap your oye on me neck.”

“I see it.”

“Faith, tell me ther truth——”

“About what?”

“Will I doi?”

“Humbug! You only got a scratch.”

“May ther Blessed Vargin love ther spalpeen who chucked that bullet at
me!”

“Why?”

“Bekase he didn’t kill me intoirely.”

Frank laughed and resumed his work, and Pomp and the Mexican sent shot
after shot toward the sharp-shooters who had fired at their companions.

That ended the shooting.

Frank and Barney finished their task, descended to the deck, and entered
the cabin.

“Now we can storm the castle from the sky,” said Frank.

“If you can get into that building,” the Mexican remarked, “you can get
the treasure I told you of.”

“We must first drive out the inmates.”

“A hard job, I fear.”

“On the contrary, it will be quite easy.”

“How so, senor?”

“We will blow the building to pieces.”

“Be careful lest you injure my child.”

“Have no fear on that score, Zamora.”

Frank then entered the pilot-house, and drove the Jove ahead at the top
of her speed.

She had gone up a hill.

At one side was a cliff.

Frank steered her for it.

Straight to the edge she rushed.

It made Zamora shudder as she leaped from the cliff into the air while
going at a high rate of speed.

Out she flew like a gun shot.

Then she sank a trifle, but the wind cushioned her great planes and she
floated steadily.

Indeed, she had plunged ahead, and the inventor elevated the forward
plane, and she mounted higher.

Frank steered her in circles.

Around and around she went, and she rose to a height of several hundred
feet above the village.

Everything below kept diminishing in size.

“She flies as well as she did before the accident,” said Frank.

“Faith, she does that,” assented Barney.

“Looker de fog rollin’ ober de Gulf,” said Pomp.

“It’s very dense. But bring out some bombs.”

The <DW53> and the Celt obeyed.

The weapons alluded to resembled huge steel cartridges and were loaded
with a dynamite-like powder.

Frank began to drop them out the window upon the big castle below, and
every one that struck burst with a loud report, and blew up a portion of
the building.

Zamora peered down through a powerful spyglass and suddenly exclaimed in
anxious tones:

“The pirates are evacuating the town.”

“I see them going in their rowboats,” Frank replied.

“There go some from the castle.”

“Can you distinguish them?”

“Several—yes, and there’s Diavolo.”

“The captain, eh?”

“He carries some one in his arms, and—ah, by heavens! it’s my boy! It’s
my boy, Mr. Reade.”

“I see him.”

“Down with you.”

“He’s entering a boat. There he goes out on the water!”

“Go down, I say!”

“Hush! Don’t get excited! Pomp, let her descend!”

The <DW54> nodded his woolly head, and let the airship descend toward the
lagoon.

All the escaping pirates saw the Jove; a babel of excited voices rose,
and they pulled swiftly through the creek to the sea.

The fog rolled up just then and hid them.

Finally Zamora cried:

“There’s a ship—the Golden Lion—at the inlet!”

“She stands luffed up, and all are boarding her, too,” said Frank,
critically. “They design to escape.”

In a remarkably short space of time all the fugitives had boarded the
vessel, and she sped away.

After her flew the Jove.

But the fog swallowed the pirate cruiser, and it melted from view and
was not seen again.

Frank was bitterly disappointed.

“I’ll hunt for that ship till I find her!” he exclaimed.




                              CHAPTER IX.
                      THE END OF ONE OF THE SHIPS.


“She’s gone!”

Frank’s words wrung a groan of anguish from Zamora, and the declining
sun lent the Mexican’s face a haggard look.

“Poor little Leon!” he muttered, tremulously. “Shall we never save you
from the clutches of that incarnate fiend?”

Barney felt sorry for the man.

“Faith, it’s a week now since ther gang escaped us on that ship,” he
muttered, “an’ we’ve hunted the say an’ coasht well for thim, but
there’s no findin’ thim at all, at all, since ther fog shwallied ’em
that day!”

“Gwine down to de sea, Marse Frank?” asked Pomp, who held the steering
wheel.

“Skim over the sea along the coast,” advised the inventor, “and we may
meet the Golden Lion and save little Leon yet.”

It seemed to be a forlorn hope.

Pomp brought the flying machine to within a few hundred feet of the
waves.

He then resigned his place to Barney.

“I’se gwine fo’ to cook suppah,” said he.

“Lay ther coorse,” said the Irishman to Frank.

“Go to the eastward.”

“Aist it bes,” assented Barney, revolving the wheel.

The airship was quite close to a range of frowning cliffs that hemmed
the coast and advanced rapidly.

In the far distance was a solitary ship, almost becalmed, for the
weather was very quiet and hot.

Ahead a cluster of palms on a narrow, flat neck of land, projected out
into the Gulf, assuming the singular look as if they were growing out of
the water.

The Jove shot toward them.

As she drew nearer a gun shot was heard coming from behind the palms.

Frank expected to feel the shot, but was disappointed, and ordered
Barney to drive ahead till they investigated the shot.

“Peaceful people do not fire gunshots for nothing,” said Frank. “Outlaws
carry arms.”

“D’ye moind that,” said Barney, pointing out at the ship they had first
seen lying off at sea.

“A puff of smoke is rising from her deck.”

“It is that. An’ she’s headin’ this way.”

They failed to see a shot strike, although the puff of smoke plainly
showed them that the shot had come from the deck of the distant vessel.

Frank suddenly changed his tactics.

Turning the Jove, he steered her shoreward.

“Where are yer goin’?” queried Barney.

“I’m going to land behind them rocks.”

“Phwat for?” asked the Irishman.

“To watch yonder craft from a place of concealment.”

“Ter foind out his game, av coorse.”

“Yes: his actions are very mysterious.”

A short time afterward the Jove alighted at a place where she could not
be seen from the Gulf.

Frank and his companions got up on the rocks and watched the distant
vessel very closely.

They imagined, of course, that she was one of Captain Diavolo’s fleet,
and resolved to pounce upon her at the earliest opportunity after
learning her intention.

The airship was then at least twenty leagues from the retreat of the
pirates, for the long search they had for the vessel that carried Leon
away had taken them far from the lair of the Coast Terrors.

“Zamora, you heard Diavolo say he had two schooners and a steamer.”

“Exactly so,” returned the dark-faced Mexican.

“Does that look like one of their ships?”

“Decidedly not. It looks more like a frigate.”

“That’s a fact. How queer!”

“I don’t know what to make of it.”

When the vessel got nearer they saw that she really was a man-of-war,
but failed to recognize her nationality.

She hove in within a mile of the coast, and then suddenly ran to the
west of where our friends laid.

This odd action was quickly explained by the sudden appearance of a
schooner that darted around the wooded promontory, which the frigate was
heading off.

Upon the schooner’s bow was the name Chimpanzee.

As soon as Zamora saw it he exclaimed, excitedly:

“Why, here comes one of Diavolo’s vessels now.”

“Yes,” replied Frank. “And see, that frigate is heading her off, and
evidently means to capture her.”

“Bedad! we’ll see some fun now!” chuckled Barney.

“My Lawd!” roared Pomp. “See dar!”

The frigate had run toward what looked like a buoy, when she struck a
mine and exploded it.

A deafening report ensued.

The water at the warship’s stern was blown up.

Shocked, torn and wrecked, the gallant vessel rolled, pitched and tossed
furiously.

The torpedo had done its fatal work well.

She began to go down by the stern.

“By heavens!” ejaculated Frank, in tones of intense horror, “those
scoundrels purposely lured the frigate upon that marine mine to destroy
her.”

“An’ dey done doed it,” groaned Pomp.

“The craft is a wreck!” exclaimed Zamora.

The piratical vessel paused.

A hoarse cheer rose from her crew.

Then a scene of great confusion ensued upon the deck of the warship, for
all hands had been mustered to prepare the boats for debarkation.

It was evidently the pirate’s intention to cut off their retreat to the
land by intercepting and killing them mercilessly.

With this purpose in view they were arming themselves.

“Unless we interfere,” said Frank, restlessly, “there is soon going to
be some bloody work done here.”

“Fo’ suah,” assented Pomp. “Dem yer yaller <DW53>s use dar razzahs on de
marines, I ’specs.”

“Can’t we interfere?” eagerly asked Zamora.

“Faith, we will that!” Barney asserted.

The young inventor saw the frigate go down, and all her ill-fated crew
were left afloat in the quarter-boats.

“They are absolutely at the mercy of the demons of the Gulf,” Frank
muttered. “Come on, boys!”

They quickly boarded the electric airship, and the young inventor,
anxious to lend a hand to his endangered fellow-beings, turned on the
current.

As the screws turned the airship rolled ahead.

Impinging on the wind, her planes lifted her from the ground, and she
mounted higher as she rushed along.

Within a few moments Frank saw the schooner bearing down upon the six
boats, a large crew armed to the teeth swarming over her deck.

The rascals did not hesitate about firing, and as a deadly fusillade was
poured out at the marines many of the unfortunates fell killed or
wounded.

“Zamora, take the wheel,” cried Frank.

“Yes, senor.”

“Hold the Jove over them.”

“I shall.”

“Get some grenades, boys.”

Pomp and Barney procured the weapons.

Armed with these deadly missiles the three passed out on deck, and began
to hurl them down upon the deck of the piratical schooner.

The flying metal mowed down the rascals, and they quickly had their
attention turned away from their victims.

The sight of the flying machine filled them with horror, and most of
them made a rush for the forecastle, the cabin, and the open hatches to
get below.

But our friends continued to hurl down the bombs, and soon the missiles
set fire to the schooner.

As the blaze increased the yells of the pirates became horrible to hear,
and they rushed on deck.

Wildly they rushed for their boats.

Some of them did not wait for the boats.

They simply sprang into the water and swam away.

The rascals hoped to have some time, but the fire reached their magazine
by the time two of the boats were put overboard.

A fearful explosion followed.

High in the air the torn ship was blown, the bodies of over half her
crew mingled with the broken planks and torn cordage.

By the time the scattered remains of the schooner came down, the naval
soldiers were rowing after the two boats that escaped.

The crews of these two boats were rowing like mad for the shore, for
they expected no mercy from the crew of the sunken gunboat.

Before the rascals could reach the coast, the marines hove up and
surrounded them.

The pirates were surrounded.

A deadly volley of shots poured in upon the screaming wretches from all
sides, and when the marines finished their shooting, not a pirate lived
to tell what had happened.




                               CHAPTER X.
                         THE PIRATES’ TREASURE.


Frank and his companions witnessed the extermination of the gang of
pirates, and when it was completed, Barney said:

“Begorra, there’s not wan left.”

“So much the better,” Frank answered.

“Lord amassy! but it war drefful, Marse Frank,” said Pomp.

“True; but had they been captured and court-martialed, they would have
been shot, anyway,” replied the inventor.

“Sure enough,” assented Barney.

“Zamora!” called the inventor.

“Well?” the Mexican answered from his post at the wheel.

“Run her away to the eastward.”

“Ain’t you going down to interview the marines?”

“No. What’s the use? It would do no good. We have seen what happened.
The scene explains itself.”

“Faith, thim sogers moight be loikin’ to know who we are,” said Barney.

“We will mystify them by giving no information.”

That settled the matter.

On went the flying machine, and they heard the marines shout up to them,
and saw them beckoning, but they paid no heed to the calls.

The airship soon faded from the view of those below, and went scouring
along the coast for the next few days in quest of the Golden Lion.

Unfortunately, though, they did not see her.

A number of ships were encountered, but the vessels they sought were not
among them.

One morning, at breakfast, Frank said:

“It is my opinion that Captain Diavolo has taken fright, and intends to
hide until we’re gone.”

“’Deed it looks dat way,” Pomp asserted.

“What shall we do then?” queried Zamora, in troubled tones, for his mind
was constantly harassed by the fear that some harm had befallen his
little boy.

“I’m going back to the town,” said Frank, thoughtfully.

“Shure, we’ll foind no wan there,” Barney replied.

“I don’t expect to, but we may secure their treasure if Zamora will show
us its hiding place.”

“Dis am de bestest time fo’ to go dar, while de pirates am away,”
assented Pomp.

With this agreement the airship was started off, and late in the
afternoon arrived in view of the settlement.

The place had a deserted look.

“Not one of the gang left,” said Frank.

“Then we will not be molested in our efforts to get the treasure,” said
Zamora.

“You said it was in the vault under the castle?”

“That’s where I saw it, senor.”

“Do you know how to reach it?”

“Certainly.”

“Well, we will remove it from its present place, and by the time this is
done the pirates, missing us, may think we have gone away, and make
their reappearance.”

“Quite a good idea.”

“We can pounce on them, and make a struggle to get your son from their
clutches.”

This plan pleased Zamora.

A few minutes afterward the Jove settled down in the big square facing
the castle.

Leaving Barney in charge of her, the others armed themselves, took a
portable electric lantern, and strode over to Captain Diavolo’s
dwelling.

The shots they had rained down upon it had almost blown the upper part
to pieces, and it presented a battered look that spoiled its beauty.

There was a fine entrance, and the trio passed into a large corridor,
upon which several rooms opened.

Proceeding to the rear, a broad staircase was reached, which led them
into the cellar beneath the building.

By turning a switch on the lantern a bright light was caused to gush
from the bull’s-eye.

Zamora led the way, as he was familiar with the place, and going to one
of the stone foundation walls, he pointed at an iron door studded with
huge bolt heads.

“There is the treasure vault,” he exclaimed.

“It is fastened with a huge padlock,” replied Frank.

“Bust her open,” suggested Pomp.

It was easy to do this, as Frank had provided himself with several of
the hand grenades.

All hands recoiled from the door.

The inventor then hurled a bomb at the padlock; there sounded a furious
explosion, a glare of light was seen, and then the lock was blown to
pieces.

As this occurred the three rushed to the door, flung it open, the
lantern light was projected inside, and a most thrilling scene met their
view.

The floor of the storeroom was littered with boxes, bales, casks and
packages stolen from ship and shore.

They contained rich laces, silks and velvets, expensive ornaments,
paintings, statuary, silverware, and other articles made of gold and
other precious metals.

Several kegs were filled to overflowing with gold coins of foreign
countries; there was a box containing a large assortment of bejeweled
rings, pins and other jewelry, and a small casket of unset diamonds,
pearls and rubies stood upon a tiny table in one corner.

A number of vases, chalices, crucifixes and similar secular objects laid
on the floor, showing plainly that the Terror of the Coast did not
scruple about robbing churches.

No matter in what direction the glance turned, a new object of great
interest was seen.

The three gazed around spellbound.

When Frank finally recovered from his surprise, he said:

“Zamora, I am amazed at the richness of this treasure. You did not
exaggerate it any. In fact, you did not do it justice. There are several
million dollars’ worth of stuff here.”

“I’se gwine ter open a bank when I gits my share ob dis,” chuckled Pomp.
“Wonder whar it all come from, chillen?”

“The pirates waded knee deep in blood to gain this treasure,” replied
Zamora, in grave tones. “It represents many a hard-fought battle, many a
human life, many widows and orphans.”

“Let us get away from here,” said Frank.

He selected the most valuable things and each one seized a parcel, and
carried it from the vault.

As they reached the main cellar a terrible surprise awaited them, in the
form of a horde of the pirates.

They were headed by Captain Diavolo.

Every one of the rascals carried a weapon, and the Terror pointed at the
startled trio, and yelled:

“Halt!”

“Trapped!” gasped Frank.

“By golly!” said the <DW53>; “dis am an ambush!”

“That’s the end of us!” said Zamora, bitterly.

It was very evident that the rascals had been hidden in the castle, had
seen them coming, and now expected to kill or capture them, for every
weapon was pointed their way.

For a full minute a deathly silence ensued.

Then the pirate captain roared:

“Drop those valuables!”

Obediently the three let their burdens fall to the floor.

“Well?” demanded Frank.

“Raise your hands!”

The three complied.

Turning to his men, Diavolo said:

“Aim at them, boys!”

“Going to shoot them now?” queried one of the gang.

“Yes; there’s no use delaying.”

These words sent a chill of horror through our friends, for they did not
expect their doom was to be settled so soon.

Frank was utterly at a loss what to do.

Resistance would simply hasten their deaths.

He resolved, though, to gain a short respite by parleying, for he hoped,
in a feverish way, that in the interval he might think of some method
whereby he could save the party.

Therefore he said to the captain:

“You surely do not mean to kill us in cold blood?”

“Don’t I, though?” sneered the wretch.

“Give us time to prepare for our doom.”

“Not a minute, curse you! I’ve got the whip hand now, and I’ll make you
pay dearly for the losses and trouble and indignity you have put me to.
And as for you,” he added, furiously, shaking his fist at Zamora, “I
could tear your heart from your living body, blast you! I haven’t
forgotten the choking you gave me, you dog!”

“Kill me and spare the others,” pleaded the Mexican. “I am not afraid to
die, since it seems impossible for me to wrest my unfortunate child from
your vile clutch.”

“I’ll kill you all!” shouted the captain.

“Could we bribe you to let us go?” asked Frank.

“Not with a king’s ransom! Revenge to me is far sweeter than gold. I’ll
have no mercy! Aim, boys, and when I count three, fire at them
together!”

He stepped aside.

Frank gave up all hope.

Death now seemed a moral certainty.

The grim array of weapons was turned upon them and the brutal captain
cried:

“One!”

Then there was a pause.

“Two!”




                              CHAPTER XI.
                              THE RESCUE.


“Git away out av that!”

Boom, bang!

“Go it, ye divils! Go it!”

Crash, boom!

First it was Barney’s voice.

Then it was the roar of the grenades.

Next it was a chorus of oaths, yells, and cries of pain.

At last it was a general stampede of the pirates before they had time to
fire the fatal volley with which they designed to kill Frank and his two
companions.

“Hurrah! A rescue!” cried the inventor.

“Fire at them!” gasped Zamora, using his pistol.

Pomp bent over, charged on a man who was in his way, butted him like a
goat, and knocked the fellow over.

“Clar de track!” he bawled. “De <DW53> bullgine am comin’!”

Bang!

Bang!

Bang! went their pistol shots!

It was lucky Barney had taken it into his head to arm himself with
grenades and follow his friends, for he had seen what happened, and made
a bold charge to save them.

The pirates fled in all directions.

Many were wounded by the bursting grenades.

The electric lantern showed the Irishman where his friends were, so that
he was enabled to use his arms in such a way as not to hurt them.

Some of Diavolo’s men fired back, but were so panic-stricken their aim
was bad, and they did no damage.

A grand rush was made for a secret exit which they had entered, but many
had fallen never to rise again.

“Chase them!” cried Frank.

“Oireland foriver!” howled Barney, for the fighting Irishman was in his
glory when a row was going on.

Away they rushed in pursuit of the fleeing pirates.

Only half a dozen reached the courtyard, and the diabolical captain was
in the lead.

He knew that his life would pay for his capture.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang! went a second volley from Frank’s party.

Several of Diavolo’s party fell in their tracks, wounded, and our
friends chased the rest through the corridor.

As Frank dashed out the door he saw the leader and several of his men
rushing toward the water.

They were heading for a rowboat.

Far over the water, lying almost hidden against the dense shrubbery and
trees along the shore was a schooner.

The pirates were evidently bent upon reaching it.

“There’s Diavolo’s other craft!” cried Zamora.

“Your son is doubtless aboard of her, too,” said Frank.

“Dios mio! Can we save him now?”

“Perhaps; if we can prevent Diavolo getting aboard.”

“We can’t overtake him.”

“Oh, yes; we can.”

“How?”

“By using the airship.”

“Bueno!”

They ran to the Jove and scrambled aboard.

Within one minute more Frank had her rushing swiftly across the square,
and she rose on the wind.

Up she soared like an eagle.

A turn of the wheel directed her over the water, and she shot along at a
rapid pace.

Below, Frank saw Diavolo in a skiff with three men, and they were rowing
furiously toward the schooner.

“Barney, take the wheel.”

“I have it.”

“Now watch that skiff vanish.”

And so saying Frank rushed inside and got several bombs.

Going out on deck, he leaned over the side, and taking careful aim, he
let one of the grenades fall.

It went down as straight as an arrow.

All hands watched it with deep interest.

Bang!

It had struck squarely in the boat.

In one minute more the tiny craft was gone.

Only one of the occupants survived, and that was Diavolo.

They saw the burly rascal swimming feebly for the shore.

He finally reached it, waded out, rushed away, and darting a scared look
up at the Jove, he plunged into the bushes.

There he vanished.

“What a pity he escaped!” said Zamora, disappointedly.

“He wor wounded,” said Barney.

“It won’t be long before we meet him again, I feel quite confident,”
remarked Frank, in dry tones.

“Gwine fo’ de schoonah?” queried the <DW53>.

“Yes, yes, by all means—at once,” Frank replied.

“See!” muttered the Mexican, nervously, as he pointed at the vessel.
“The crew seem to realize what has happened, and are preparing to sail
away.”

“Drive the Jove over there, Barney,” cried Frank, quickly.

The airship was about five hundred feet above the sea, and she glided
straight toward the schooner.

“Ahoy, there!” cried Frank, at the top of his voice.

No reply came back.

Indeed, the chances were his voice was not heard.

But he saw the crew of the vessel elevating the muzzle of a gun to bear
upon the airship.

Seeing that he had better make his intentions known by actions rather
than words, the young inventor hurled a bomb down at the deck.

It struck there and burst with a violent report.

That scattered the men from about the gun, and stopped the work of
raising the anchor and sails.

Another bomb wounded several more, and drove the crew overboard,
whereupon they took to the land.

“Now send her down, Barney.”

“Can you distinguish my child?” eagerly asked Zamora.

“No,” Frank replied. “I’ve watched keenly, and did not see a child leave
the schooner. In their panic those fellows only thought of saving
themselves. Doubtless they have left the boy behind.”

“It is very dangerous, then, to use more bombs, as you might hit him,”
said the Mexican.

“Very true! I’ll stop. Those fellows are greatly afraid of this airship.
They may not be afraid to fight people on an equal footing, but when it
comes to an attack from the sky they realize their helplessness and lose
courage.”

Frank had told the truth.

Shortly the airship arrived close to the schooner, and there she was
driven in circles in order to keep her in the air.

Frank could now see what a lot of damage the bombs had done to the
vessel.

He went inside and put on a suit of chain mail.

It was very light, as the metal was aluminum.

“I’m going aboard the schooner,” he announced.

“Let me go with you,” pleaded Zamora.

“No; it’s too dangerous. I’ll go alone.”

“Den we guard you from heah wif our rifles,” said Pomp.

“Do so, by all means.”

Frank got out a wire ladder and carried it to the deck, where he
fastened one end and let the other end down.

He then descended.

When half-way down the ladder he heard volley after volley of rifle
shots coming from shore, and saw the crew shooting at him from behind
trees and rocks.

Scores of bullets hit the daring fellow, and hundreds whistled and
hummed around him like a swarm of bees.

“Fire at them, boys!” he cried.

His friends promptly carried out his order, and an occasional yell of
pain coming from the bushes told that their shots were not all wasted.

Moreover, the firing at Frank diminished.

He lost no time about getting down the rest of the ladder, and as the
airship circled over the schooner he alighted.

Some of the pirates rushed from their coverts, and were about to dash
over, board the vessel, and try to capture him, when a deadly volley
from the Jove checked their impulse.

Frank hastened down the cabin steps.

He found the room filled with smoke.

“They’ve fired the vessel!” flashed across his mind.

He groped his way around and shouted:

“Leon! Leon!”

But he received no reply.

“The little fellow isn’t here,” he muttered.

These words had scarcely left his lips, though, when he stumbled over a
soft object lying on the floor.

One glance showed him that it was the missing boy.

He was senseless.

A cruel blow on the head, dealt by one of the pirates, had knocked him
down, wounded and unconscious.

Frank picked him up.

“Now to escape!” he muttered. “If the fire reaches the magazine, the
schooner will blow up and kill us!”

He reached the door with his little burden, but to his dismay found it
closed with a spring lock.

The knob was broken off, and he therefore could not open it; nor were
the windows big enough to let him out.

It made a chill of horror go over Frank.

“By heavens! I’m in for it now!” he gasped.




                              CHAPTER XII.
                              CONCLUSION.


Frank was in a most desperate situation, and he laid the boy down and
searched the cabin.

He finally found an ax, and with this implement he attacked the door in
an effort to burst it down.

Blow after blow he dealt it.

Finally the stubborn door yielded.

As it went down with a crash he seized Leon Zamora and hastened upon
deck with the senseless boy.

Frank’s friends were still firing at the pirates in the bushes, and a
cry of joy escaped them when they saw him appear with Leon in his arms.

“My son! My son!” frantically cried the Mexican.

Over the schooner swept the Jove, and Frank got on the ladder, whereupon
Barney swiftly drove the machine away over the water toward the shore.

Although many bullets were shot at the inventor, they missed him, and he
was carried out of danger.

He reached the deck with his burden.

The joy of Zamora knew no bounds, and when the boy’s wound was dressed
and he recovered, he was more than delighted to find himself safe again
with his father.

Captain Diavolo’s men were furious when they saw the inventor safely
escape with the little prisoner.

Realizing that Frank was liable to attack them, they made haste to get
away from that dangerous locality, and when the young inventor sent the
flying machine on a hunt for them, not one of the villains was to be
found.

“They have got enough,” laughed Frank, “and have like the Arabs silently
folded their tents and stolen away.”

“Begorra, we kin get their treasure now,” said Barney.

“Yes, indeed,” assented Zamora. “The gold is due to you for having saved
my little boy.”

“I’se gwine to steer fo’ de ole castle, den,” remarked Pomp, as he spun
the wheel around.

“The airship is capable of carrying a weight of several tons beside what
we have already aboard,” said Frank, “and for that reason we can easily
get away with the bulk of the Terror’s horde.”

When they were ready to descend they saw the schooner blow up, and her
remains sunk under the sea.

It occupied a full day to get the treasure aboard and stow it. But they
finally secured it.

Not one of the pirates disturbed them, and on the following morning
Frank drove the Jove high in the air, and sent her along the coast.

Indeed, she mounted so high that she rose above the clouds in the rare
upper atmosphere.

Frank had control of the wheel when Zamora came in with his boy and
asked him:

“Are you going home now?”

“Not yet,” Frank responded, shaking his head.

“What is there to keep you in this neighborhood?”

“Since I started in fighting the Terror of the Coast,” answered the
inventor, “I have concluded to not leave my task unfinished. Captain
Diavolo is still at large. He yet has his steamship to scour this gulf.
I am determined to find the man and his craft, and put them where they
will do no further harm.”

“It is a noble resolve, and has my heartfelt sympathy,” said Don Zamora,
earnestly. “And by your leave, senor, I shall remain aboard until your
purpose is finally accomplished, compadre!”

Frank was satisfied.

He spent several days after that searching for the villain, but failed
to find him.

League after league of the coast was patrolled, and they finally reached
the neighborhood of Florida.

Off one of the keys a ship was discerned one morning by the young
inventor, who stood on deck.

He eagerly scrutinized it with a glass.

It was a small steamship flying the American flag.

“Zamora,” he called, quickly, “come out here!”

“Yes, senor; what do you wish?” asked the Mexican, emerging.

“Do you see that steamer?”

“Plainly, when there is a rift in the clouds.”

“Would you take her to be Captain Diavolo’s vessel?”

“By no means. The Snake is a larger boat.”

“Pshaw! I thought it was her.”

“No; you are mistaken, I am sorry to say.”

Frank looked intensely disappointed, and cast another glance down at the
vessel.

As he did so he saw a very much larger steamer run from behind the key
and race after the first one.

The large vessel carried a black flag at the masthead, in the center of
which were a skull and crossbones.

“It’s the pirates’ emblem!” cried Frank.

“Ha! That’s her now!” exclaimed the Mexican, excitedly.

“So I perceive,” responded the inventor, leveling his glass again.

“Those monsters are intent on running the smaller craft down and
attacking it.”

“Of course!” cried Frank. “And, by jingo! among the big gang swarming
over the deck of the Snake I recognize the figure of Captain Diavolo.”

“Then the scoundrel and the crew of the schooner which contained my boy
must have been picked up by this craft, and carried away.”

“Just exactly my impression,” Frank replied.

Barney and Pomp were apprised of the news, and they eagerly scanned the
pirates’ craft.

“I reckon dey doan’ ’spec dat we’se ober dar haids up yere in de
clouds,” chuckled the <DW53>.

“Shure, they’ll be afther knowin’ it soon enough,” laughed Barney, as he
spit on his hands and rubbed them together.

As he spoke, they heard the faint report of a gun, and saw a shot strike
the stern of the fugitive steamer.

Judging by the actions of the vessel, the ball had evidently struck the
rudder or screw, for she ran wild, and her engineer was obliged to stop
her.

The Terror dashed ahead, and another shot was discharged from her deck,
the ball sweeping the deck of the other.

Frank grew restless.

“We must stop them at once!” he exclaimed, “or they will, perhaps,
murder the whole crew. Barney, take charge and drop the Jove down toward
them.”

He gave his place to the Irishman, and going back to the room where the
arms were kept, he quickly secured an enormous grenade, and carried it
out on deck.

“If this shell lands on her deck it will blow her to pieces,” he
muttered, grimly. “Now for a trial.”

Waiting until the airship was almost directly above the other vessel,
Frank let the shell fly.

It plunged down through the air quickly.

Down, down, down it went at a terrific speed until it had almost reached
the steamer.

But the Snake dashed ahead, the grenade missed, and it plunged
harmlessly into the sea.

A cry of intense vexation escaped Frank, and he saw his enemies go
flying ahead blissfully ignorant of the great danger they had escaped.

The Jove was descending rapidly under Barney’s skillful guidance, and it
soon hovered within a few hundred feet of the sea when the pirates saw
it.

A fierce yell escaped them, and they swung a big swivel gun around and
fired up at her.

The shot crashed through the airship’s hull, and the villains rapidly
loaded the gun again.

Fortunately, our friends were not injured by the shock.

“Arm yourselves, boys, arm yourselves,” cried Frank.

In a minute more all hands had their weapons ready for action, and began
to fire down at the pirates.

The fugitive steamer was near by, and her crew, armed with several
rifles and pistols, were firing at the pirates.

Report after report rang out.

Clouds of smoke and fumes of powder rose.

For a quarter of an hour the battle waxed hot.

The pirates were between two fires, and while half of them turned their
attention upon the steamer’s crew, the other half engaged at firing at
the airship’s crew.

In the midst of the conflict one of Diavolo’s gunners discharged the
swivel piece up at the Jove again.

This shot smashed into the plane uprights on the port side, breaking
them in two and tearing the braces.

All the upper gear began to collapse.

“Lookout! We’re falling!” shouted Frank. “We can’t float with that hole
in our boat’s hull.”

He seized a line as he spoke and flung an end to the crew of the
disabled steamer, while he tied the other end to the Jove.

At the same moment Zamora let another of the big bombs fly out a window
at the Snake.

The grenade struck the side of the pirates’ vessel, and tearing a big
hole there, caused her to fill.

In a few moments it was clear the vessel would be sunk many fathoms
under the Gulf.

A cheer escaped Frank’s party despite their own peril, when they saw
what the Mexican did.

“At last I am revenged!” hoarsely cried Zamora, as he seized his child
and ran on deck.

The doom of the flying machine was sealed, for she fluttered to the
water and began to sink.

“Haul in on that line and make it fast, boys!” cried Frank.

Working furiously, they dragged the airship to the side of the disabled
steamer and secured her so she could not go down.

Willing hands assisted them aboard the steamer just as the Snake sank,
carrying many of her crew down with her.

Captain Diavolo was killed during the explosion of the grenade, and the
crew of the Yankee vessel shot the rest, who were swimming.

Seeing that his invention could not be repaired where it was, Frank
abandoned all hope of saving her.

A few hasty words passed between him and the captain of the steamer, and
the inventor was assured of a passage to New York in his vessel when she
was repaired.

Then he and his friends dragged the treasure out of her and stowed it
below, after which the line holding the Jove was cut, and our gallant
flying machine sank in the deep Gulf.

Our friends told the Yankee crew all about themselves, and in return
learned that the craft had recently left a Mexican port, and was
homeward bound when attacked.

She was badly damaged by the shot, but they finally repaired her so she
was able to finish her journey.

Zamora and his son were landed in Florida, from whence they could easily
get home, and he warmly thanked Frank and his friends for all they had
done for him and his child.

He refused to share the treasure, as he was already wealthy.

Our friends, therefore, gave the captain and crew of the steamer an
ample share of it, and divided the rest among themselves.

In due time the treasure was all sold, and realized a huge sum.

Landing in New York, our friends proceeded to Readestown, and received a
warm welcome home.

They were glad to get home again.

Frank since then has built other wonderful inventions, and we will soon
give our readers an account of another one. But our story of his
greatest flying machine is ended, and we will, therefore, defer our
narrative to the volume which follows this one.


                                THE END.

                  *       *       *       *       *

Read “ONE HUNDRED MILES BELOW THE SURFACE OF THE SEA; OR, THE MARVELOUS
TRIP OF FRANK READE, JR.,” which will be the next number (50) of “Frank
Reade Weekly Magazine.”

                  *       *       *       *       *

SPECIAL NOTICE: All back numbers of this weekly are always in print. If
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                              LUCKY LIGE;

                                  OR,

                      The Boy Who Fooled Them All.

                            By Fred Fearnot,
             (_Hero of the Great “WORK AND WIN” Stories_).

       Begins in No. 470 of “HAPPY DAYS”, Issued October 2, 1903.

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 For Sale by All Newsdealers, or Will Be Sent to Any Address on Receipt
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                               MESMERISM.

No. 81. HOW TO MESMERIZE.—Containing the most approved methods of
mesmerism; also how to cure all kinds of diseases by animal magnetism,
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                               PALMISTRY.

No. 82. HOW TO DO PALMISTRY.—Containing the most approved methods of
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                               HYPNOTISM.

No. 83. HOW TO HYPNOTIZE.—Containing valuable and instructive
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                               SPORTING.

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No. 1. NAPOLEON’S ORACULUM AND DREAM BOOK.—Containing the great oracle
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No. 23. HOW TO EXPLAIN DREAMS.—Everybody dreams, from the little child
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                                 MAGIC.

No. 2. HOW TO DO TRICKS.—The great book of magic and card tricks,
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Banjo, Violin, Zither, Æolian Harp, Xylophone and other musical
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No. 59. HOW TO MAKE A MAGIC LANTERN.—Containing a description of the
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                             WORK AND WIN.

                       The Best Weekly Published.

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                             LATEST ISSUES:

  149 Fred Fearnot and the Kidnappers; or, Trailing a Stolen Child.

  150 Fred Fearnot’s Quick Work; or, The Hold-Up at Eagle Pass.

  151 Fred Fearnot at Silver Gulch; or, Defying a Ring.

  152 Fred Fearnot on the Border; or, Punishing the Mexican Horse
        Stealers.

  153 Fred Fearnot’s Charmed Life; or, Running the Gauntlet.

  154 Fred Fearnot Lost; or, Missing for Thirty Days.

  155 Fred Fearnot’s Rescue; or, The Mexican Pocahontas.

  156 Fred Fearnot and the “White Caps”; or, A Queer Turning of the
        Tables.

  157 Fred Fearnot and the Medium; or, Having Fun with the “Spirits.”

  158 Fred Fearnot and the “Mean Man”; or, The Worst He Ever Struck.

  159 Fred Fearnot’s Gratitude; or, Backing Up a Plucky Boy.

  160 Fred Fearnot Fined; or, The Judges Mistake.

  161 Fred Fearnot’s Comic Opera; or, The Fun that Raised the Funds.

  162 Fred Fearnot and the Anarchists; or, The Burning of the Red
        Flag.

  163 Fred Fearnot’s Lecture Tour; or, Going It Alone.

  164 Fred Fearnot’s “New Wild West”; or, Astonishing the Old East.

  165 Fred Fearnot in Russia; or, Banished by the Czar.

  166 Fred Fearnot in Turkey; or, Defying the Sultan.

  167 Fred Fearnot in Vienna; or, The Trouble on the Danube.

  168 Fred Fearnot and the Kaiser; or, In the Royal Palace at Berlin.

  169 Fred Fearnot in Ireland; or, Watched by the Constabulary.

  170 Fred Fearnot Homeward Bound; or, Shadowed by Scotland Yard.

  171 Fred Fearnot’s Justice; or, The Champion of the School Marm.

  172 Fred Fearnot and the Gypsies; or, The Mystery of a Stolen Child.

  173 Fred Fearnot’s Silent Hunt; or, Catching the “Green Goods” Men.

  174 Fred Fearnot’s Big Day; or, Harvard and Yale at New Era.

  175 Fred Fearnot and “The Doctor”; or, The Indian Medicine Fakir.

  176 Fred Fearnot and the Lynchers; or, Saving a Girl Horse Thief.

  177 Fred Fearnot’s Wonderful Feat; or, The Taming of Black Beauty.

  178 Fred Fearnot’s Great Struggle; or, Downing a Senator.

  179 Fred Fearnot’s Jubilee; or, New Era’s Greatest Day.

  180 Fred Fearnot and Samson; or, “Who Runs This Town?”

  181 Fred Fearnot and the Rioters; or, Backing Up the Sheriff.

  182 Fred Fearnot and the Stage Robber; or, His Chase for a Stolen
        Diamond.

  183 Fred Fearnot at <DW36> Creek; or, The Masked Fiends of the
        Mines.

  184 Fred Fearnot and the Vigilantes; or, Up Against the Wrong Man.

  185 Fred Fearnot in New Mexico; or, Saved by Terry Olcott.

  186 Fred Fearnot in Arkansas; or, The Queerest of All Adventures.

  187 Fred Fearnot in Montana; or, The Dispute at Rocky Hill.

  188 Fred Fearnot and the Mayor; or, The Trouble at Snapping Shoals.

  189 Fred Fearnot’s Big Hunt; or, Camping on the Columbia River.

  190 Fred Fearnot’s Hard Experience; or, Roughing it at Red Gulch.

  191 Fred Fearnot Stranded; or, How Terry Olcott Lost the Money.

  192 Fred Fearnot In the Mountains; or, Held at Bay by Bandits.

  193 Fred Fearnot’s Terrible Risk; or, Terry Olcott’s Reckless
        Venture.

  194 Fred Fearnot’s Last Card; or, The Game that Saved His Life.

  195 Fred Fearnot and the Professor; or, The Man Who Knew It All.

  196 Fred Fearnot’s Big Scoop; or, Beating a Thousand Rivals.

  197 Fred Fearnot and the Raiders; or, Fighting for His Belt.

  198 Fred Fearnot’s Great Risk; or, One Chance in a Thousand.

  199 Fred Fearnot as a Sleuth; or, Running Down a Slick Villain.

  200 Fred Fearnot’s New Deal; or, Working for a Banker.

  201 Fred Fearnot in Dakota; or, The Little Combination Ranch.

  202 Fred Fearnot and the Road Agents; or, Terry Olcott’s Cool Nerve.

  203 Fred Fearnot and the Amazon; or, The Wild Woman of the Plains.

  204 Fred Fearnot’s Training School; or, How to Make a Living.

  205 Fred Fearnot and the Stranger; or, The Long Man who was Short.

  206 Fred Fearnot and the Old Trapper; or, Searching for a Lost
        Cavern.

  207 Fred Fearnot in Colorado; or, Running a Sheep Ranch.

  208 Fred Fearnot at the Ball; or, The Girl in the Green Mask.

  209 Fred Fearnot and the Duellist; or, The Man Who Wanted to Fight.

  210 Fred Fearnot on the Stump; or, Backing an Old Veteran.

  211 Fred Fearnot’s New Trouble; or, Up Against a Monopoly.

  212 Fred Fearnot as Marshal; or, Commanding the Peace.

  213 Fred Fearnot and “Wally”; or, The Good Natured Bully of Badger.

  214 Fred Fearnot and the Miners; or, The Trouble At Coppertown.

  215 Fred Fearnot and the “Blind Tigers”; or, More Ways Than One.

  216 Fred Fearnot and the Hindoo; or, The Wonderful Juggler at
        Coppertown.

  217 Fred Fearnot Snow Bound; or, Fun with Pericles Smith.

  218 Fred Fearnot’s Great Fire Fight; or, Rescuing a Prairie School.

  219 Fred Fearnot in New Orleans; or, Up Against the Mafia.

  220 Fred Fearnot and the Haunted House; or, Unraveling a Great
        Mystery.

  221 Fred Fearnot on the Mississippi; or, The Blackleg’s Murderous
        Plot.

  222 Fred Fearnot’s Wolf Hunt; or, A Battle for Life in the Dark.

  223 Fred Fearnot and the “Greaser”; or, The Fight to Death with
        Lariats.

  224 Fred Fearnot in Mexico; or, Fighting the Revolutionists.

  225 Fred Fearnot’s Daring Bluff; or, The Nerve that Saved His Life.

  226 Fred Fearnot and the Grave Digger; or, The Mystery of a
        Cemetery.

  227 Fred Fearnot’s Wall Street Deal; or, Between the Bulls and the
        Bears.

  228 Fred Fearnot and “Mr. Jones”; or, The Insurance Man in Trouble.

  229 Fred Fearnot’s Big Gift; or, A Week at Old Avon.

  230 Fred Fearnot and the “Witch”; or, Exposing an Old Fraud.

  231 Fred Fearnot’s Birthday; or, A Big Time at New Era.

  232 Fred Fearnot and the Sioux Chief; or, Searching for a Lost Girl.

  233 Fred Fearnot’s Mortal Enemy; or, The Man on the Black Horse.

  234 Fred Fearnot at Canyon Castle; or, Entertaining His Friends.

  235 Fred Fearnot and the Comanche; or, Teaching a Redskin a Lesson.

  236 Fred Fearnot Suspected; or, Trailed by a Treasury Sleuth.

  237 Fred Fearnot and the Promoter; or, Breaking Up a Big Scheme.

  238 Fred Fearnot and “Old Grizzly”; or, The Man Who Didn’t Know.

  239 Fred Fearnot’s Rough Riders; or, Driving Out the Squatters.

  240 Fred Fearnot and the Black Fiend; or, Putting Down a Riot.

  241 Fred Fearnot in Tennessee; or, The Demon of the Mountains.

  242 Fred Fearnot and the “Terror”; or, Calling Down a Bad Man.

  243 Fred Fearnot in West Virginia; or, Helping the Revenue Agents.

  244 Fred Fearnot and His Athletes; or, A Great Charity Tour.

  245 Fred Fearnot’s Strange Adventure; or, The Queer Old Man of the
        Mountain.

  246 Fred Fearnot and the League; or, Up Against a Bad Lot.

  247 Fred Fearnot’s Wonderful Race; or, Beating a Horse on Foot.

  248 Fred Fearnot and the Wrestler; or, Throwing a Great Champion.

  249 Fred Fearnot and the Bankrupt; or, Ferreting Out a Fraud.

  250 Fred Fearnot as a Redskin; or, Trailing a Captured Girl.

 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 ...

[Illustration: Secret Service Old and Young King Brady, Detectives.]




                             SECRET SERVICE

                 OLD AND YOUNG KING BRADY, DETECTIVES.
         PRICE 5 CTS. 32 PAGES.  COVERS. ISSUED WEEKLY.

                             LATEST ISSUES:

  160 The Bradys and the Wharf Rats; or, Lively Work in the Harbour.

  161 The Bradys and the House of Mystery; or, A Dark Night’s Work.

  162 The Bradys’ Winning Game; or, Playing Against the Gamblers.

  163 The Bradys and the Mail Thieves; or, The Man in the Bag.

  164 The Bradys and the Boatmen; or, The Clew Found In the River.

  165 The Bradys after the Grafters; or, The Mystery in the Cab.

  166 The Bradys and the Cross-Roads Gang; or, The Great Case in
        Missouri.

  167 The Bradys and Miss Brown; or, The Mysterious Case In Society.

  168 The Bradys and the Factory Girl; or, The Secret of the Poisoned
        Envelope.

  169 The Bradys and Blonde Bill; or, The Diamond Thieves of Maiden
        Lane.

  170 The Bradys and the Opium Ring; or, The Clew in Chinatown.

  171 The Bradys on the Grand Circuit; or, Tracking the Light-Harness
        Gang.

  172 The Bradys and the Black Doctor; or, The Secret of the Old
        Vault.

  173 The Bradys and the Girl in Grey; or, The Queen of the Crooks.

  174 The Bradys and the Juggler; or, Out with a Variety Show.

  175 The Bradys and the Moonshiners; or, Away Down in Tennessee.

  176 The Bradys in Badtown; or, The Fight for a Gold Mine.

  177 The Bradys in the Klondike; or, Ferreting Out the Gold Thieves.

  178 The Bradys on the East Side; or, Crooked Work in the Slums.

  179 The Bradys and the “Highbinders”; or, The Hot Case in Chinatown.

  180 The Bradys and the Serpent Ring; or, The Strange Case of the
        Fortune-Teller.

  181 The Bradys and “Silent Sam”; or, Tracking the Deaf and Dumb
        Gang.

  182 The Bradys and the “Bonanza” King; or, Fighting the Fakirs In
        ’Frisco.

  183 The Bradys and the Boston Banker; or, Hustling for Millions In
        the Hub.

  184 The Bradys on Blizzard Island; or, Tracking the Gold Thieves of
        Cape Nome.

  185 The Bradys in the Black Hills; or, Their Case in North Dakota.

  186 The Bradys and “Faro Frank”; or, A Hot Case in the Gold Mines.

  187 The Bradys and the “Rube”; or, Tracking the Confidence Men.

  188 The Bradys as Firemen; or, Tracking a Gang of Incendiaries.

  189 The Bradys in the Oil Country; or, The Mystery of the Giant
        Gusher.

  190 The Bradys and the Blind Beggar; or, The Worst Crook of All.

  191 The Bradys and the Bankbreakers; or, Working the Thugs of
        Chicago.

  192 The Bradys and the Seven Skulls; or, The Clew That Was Found in
        the Barn.

  193 The Bradys In Mexico; or, The Search for the Aztec Treasure
        House.

  194 The Bradys at Black Run; or, Trailing the Coiners of Candle
        Creek.

  195 The Bradys Among the Bulls and Bears; or, Working the Wires in
        Wall Street.

  196 The Bradys and the King; or, Working for the Bank of England.

  197 The Bradys and the Duke’s Diamonds; or, The Mystery of the
        Yacht.

  198 The Bradys and the Bed Rock Mystery; or, Working In the Black
        Hills.

  199 The Bradys and the Card Crooks; or, Working on an Ocean Liner.

  200 The Bradys and “John Smith”; or, The Man Without a Name.

  201 The Bradys and the Manhunters; or, Down in the Dismal Swamp.

  202 The Bradys and the High Rock Mystery; or, The Secret of the
        Seven Steps.

  203 The Bradys at the Block House; or, Rustling the Rustlers on the
        Frontier.

  204 The Bradys In Baxter Street; or, The House Without a Door.

  205 The Bradys Midnight Call; or, The Mystery of Harlem Heights.

  206 The Bradys Behind the Bars; or, Working on Blackwells Island.

  207 The Bradys and the Brewer’s Bonds; or, Working on a Wall Street
        Case.

  208 The Bradys on the Bowery; or, The Search for a Missing Girl.

  209 The Bradys and the Pawnbroker; or, A Very Mysterious Case.

  210 The Bradys and the Gold Fakirs; or, Working for the Mint.

  211 The Bradys at Bonanza Bay; or, Working on a Million Dollar Clew.

  212 The Bradys and the Black Riders; or, The Mysterious Murder at
        Wildtown.

  213 The Bradys and Senator Slam; or, Working With Washington Crooks.

  214 The Bradys and the Man from Nowhere; or, Their Very Hardest
        Case.

  215 The Bradys and “No. 99”; or, The Search for a Mad Millionaire.

  216 The Bradys at Baffin’s Bay; or, The Trail Which Led to the
        Arctic.

  217 The Bradys and Gim Lee; or, Working a Clew in Chinatown.

  218 The Bradys and the “Yegg” Men; or, Seeking a Clew on the Road.

  219 The Bradys and the Blind Banker; or, Ferreting Out the Wall
        Street Thieves.

  220 The Bradys and the Black Cat; or, Working Among the Card Crooks
        of Chicago.

  221 The Bradys and the Texas Oil King; or, Seeking a Clew In the
        Southwest.

  222 The Bradys and the Night Hawk; or, New York at Midnight.

  223 The Bradys in the Bad Lands; or, Hot work in South Dakota.

  224 The Bradys at Breakneck Hall; or, The Mysterious House on the
        Harlem.

  225 The Bradys and the Fire Marshal; or, Hot Work In Hornersville.

  226 The Bradys and the Three Sheriffs; or, Doing a Turn In
        Tennessee.

  227 The Bradys and the Opium Smugglers; or, A Hot Trail on the
        Pacific Coast.

  228 The Bradys’ Boomerang; or, Shaking Up the Wall Street Wire
        Tappers.

  229 The Bradys Among the Rockies; or, Working Away Out West.

  230 The Bradys and Judge Lynch; or, After the Arkansas Terror.

  231 The Bradys and the Bagg Boys; or, Hustling In the Black Hills.

  232 The Bradys and Captain Bangs; or, The Mystery of a Mississippi
        Steamer.

  233 The Bradys in Maiden Lane; or, Tracking the Diamond Crooks.

  234 The Bradys and Wells-Fargo Case; or, The Mystery of the Montana
        Mail.

  235 The Bradys and “Bowery Bill”; or, The Crooks of <DW53> Alley.

  236 The Bradys at Bushel Bend; or, Smoking Out the Chinese
        Smugglers.

  237 The Bradys and the Messenger Boy; or, The A. D. T. Mystery.

  238 The Bradys and the Wire Gang; or, The Great Race-Track Swindle.

  239 The Bradys Among the Mormons; or, Secret Work In Salt Lake City.

  240 The Bradys and “Fancy Frank”; or, The Velvet Gang of Flood Bar.

  241 The Bradys at Battle Cliff; or, Chased Up the Grand Canyon.

  242 The Bradys and “Mustang Mike”; or, The Man With the Branded
        Hand.

  243 The Bradys at Gold Hill; or, The Mystery of the Man from
        Montana.

  244 The Bradys and Pilgrim Pete; or, The Tough Sports of Terror
        Gulch.

  245 The Bradys and the Black Eagle Express; or, The Fate of the
        Frisco Flyer.

  246 The Bradys and Hi-Lo-Jak; or, Dark Deeds in Chinatown.

 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 ....

                            WILD WEST WEEKLY

    A Magazine Containing Stories, Sketches, etc., of Western Life.

                            BY AN OLD SCOUT.
                        DO NOT FAIL TO READ IT.
          32 PAGES.       PRICE 5 CENTS.            32 PAGES.

                EACH NUMBER IN A HANDSOME  COVER.

All of these exciting stories are founded on facts. Young Wild West is a
hero with whom the author was acquainted. His daring deeds and thrilling
adventures have never been surpassed. They form the base of the most
dashing stories ever published.

Read the following numbers of this most interesting magazine and be
convinced:

  1 Young Wild West, The Prince of the Saddle.

  2 Young Wild West’s Luck; or, Striking it Rich at the Hills.

  3 Young Wild West’s Victory; or, The Road Agents’ Last Hold-up.

  4 Young Wild West’s Pluck; or, Bound to Beat the Bad Men.

  5 Young Wild West’s Best Shot; or, The Rescue of Arietta.

  6 Young Wild West at Devil Creek; or, Helping to Boom a New Town.

  7 Young Wild West’s Surprise; or, The Indian Chief’s Legacy.

  8 Young Wild West Missing; or, Saved by an Indian Princess.

  9 Young Wild West and the Detective; or, The Red Riders of the
        Range.

  10 Young Wild West at the Stake; or, The Jealousy of Arietta.

  11 Young Wild West’s Nerve; or, The Nine Golden Bullets.

  12 Young Wild West and the Tenderfoot; or, A New Yorker in the West.

  13 Young Wild West’s Triumph; or, Winning Against Great Odds.

  14 Young Wild West’s Strategy; or, The Comanche Chief’s Last Raid.

  15 Young Wild West’s Grit; or, The Ghost of Gauntlet Gulch.

  16 Young Wild West’s Big Day; or, The Double Wedding at Weston.

  17 Young Wild West’s Great Scheme; or, The Building of a Railroad.

  18 Young Wild West and the Train Robbers; or, The Hunt for the
        Stolen Treasure.

  19 Young Wild West on His Mettle; or, Four Against Twenty.

  20 Young Wild West’s Ranch; or, The Renegades of Riley’s Run.

  21 Young Wild West on the Trail; or, Outwitting the Redskins.

  22 Young Wild West’s Bargain; or, A Red Man With a White Heart.

  23 Young Wild West’s Vacation; or, A Lively Time at Roaring Ranch.

  24 Young Wild West On His Muscle; or, Fighting With Nature’s
        Weapons.

  25 Young Wild West’s Mistake; or, Losing a Hundred Thousand.

  26 Young Wild West In Deadwood; or, The Terror of Taper Top.

  27 Young Wild West’s Close Call; or, The Raiders of Raw Hide Ridge.

  28 Young Wild West Trapped; or, The Net That Would Not Hold Him.

  29 Young Wild West’s Election; or, A Mayor at Twenty.

  30 Young Wild West and the Cattle Thieves; or, Breaking Up a “Bad
        Gang.”

  31 Young Wild West’s Mascot; or, The Dog That Wanted a Master.

  32 Young Wild West’s Challenge; or, A Combination Hard to Beat.

  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
        Time.

  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
        Shot.

  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 West and the Charmed Arrow; or, The White Lily of the
        Kiowas.

  43 Young Wild West’s Great Round Up; or, Corraling the Ranch
        Raiders.

  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
        Mountain and Plain.

  46 Young Wild West on the Rio Grande; or, Trapping the Mexican
        Coiners.

  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
        Thieves.

 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 ...

                               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 books.

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. 40. 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 are 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 at “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.




                      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.

  5 Frank Reade, Jr.’s “Sea Serpent”; or, The Search for Sunken Gold.

  6 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Electric Terror, the “Thunderer”; or, The
        Search for the Tartar’s Captive.

  7 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Air Wonder, the “Kite”; or, A Six Weeks’ Flight
        Over the Andes.

  8 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Deep Sea Diver, the “Tortoise”; or, The Search
        for a Sunken Island.

  9 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Electric Invention, the “Warrior”; or, Fighting
        Apaches in Arizona.

  10 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Electric Air Boat; or, Hunting Wild
        Beasts for a Circus.

  11 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Torpedo Boat; or, At War With the
        Brazilian Rebels.

  12 Fighting the Slave Hunters; or, Frank Reade, Jr., In Central
        Africa.

  13 From Zone to Zone; or, The Wonderful Trip of Frank Reade, Jr.,
        with His Latest Air Ship.

  14 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Electric Cruiser of the Lakes; or, A
        Journey Through Africa by Water.

  15 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Electric Turret; or, Lost in the Land
        of Fire.

  16 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Engine of the Clouds; or, Chased Around
        the World in the Sky.

  17 In the Great Whirlpool; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Strange Adventures
        in a Submarine Boat.

  18 Chased Across the Sahara; or, Frank Reade, Jr., After a Bedouin’s
        Captive.

  19 Six Weeks in the Clouds; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Air-Ship the
        “Thunderbolt.”

  20 Around the World Under Water; or, The Wonderful Cruise of a
        Submarine Boat.

  21 The Mystic Brand; or, Frank Reade, Jr., and His Overland Stage.

  22 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Electric Air Racer; or, Around the Globe in
        Thirty Days.

  23 The Sunken Pirate; or, Frank Reade, Jr., in Search of a Treasure
        at the Bottom of the Sea.

  24 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Magnetic Gun Carriage; or, Working for the U.
        S. Mail.

  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.

 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 ...




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Transcriber’s note:

 1. Added Table of Contents.

 2. Moved advertising on the reverse of the cover page to between the
    end and the remaining advertisements on the back cover.

 3. Silently corrected typographical errors.

 4. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.



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