‘Bull-Dog
Drummond
The Adventures of a
Demobilized Officer Who
Found Peace Dull
by CYRIL McNEILE
“SAPPER'’
Copyright by Gee. H. Doran Co.
(Continued from last week.)
The American nodded dazedly; then
he made a great effort to pull himself
together, as the voice continued:
' “Go at once. It's your only chance.
Tell her I'm on the roof here.”
With a sigh of relief he saw the mil-
lionaire leave the room; then he
straightened himself up, and proceeded
to reconnoiter his own position. There
was a bare chance that the American
would get through, and if he did, every-
thing might yet be well. If he didn’t
—Hugh shrugged his shoulders grimly
and laughed.
It had become quite light, and after
a moment’s indecision Drummond took
a running jump, and caught the ridge
of the sloping roof on the side nearest
the road. From where he was he could
not see The Larches, and so he did
not know what luck the American had
had. But he realized that it was long
odds against his getting through, and
that his chief hope lay in himself. It
occurred to him that far too few un-
biased people knew where he was; it
further occurred to him that it was a
state of affairs which was likely to
continue unless he remedied it himself,
And so, just as Peterson came strolling
around a corner of the house followed
by several men and a long ladder,
Hugh commenced to sing. He shouted,
he roared at the top of his vury pow-
erful voice, and all the time he watched
the men below with a wary eye.
It was just as two laborers came in
to investigate the hideous din that
Peterson’s party discovered the ladder
was too short by several yards.
Then with great rapidity the audi-
ence grew. A passing milkman; two
‘commercial travelers, a gentleman of
slightly inebriated aspect, whose trous-
ers left much to the imagination; and
finally more farm laborers. Never had
guch a tit-bit of gossip for the local
aichouse been seen in the neighbor-
toed; it would furnish a topic of con-
versation for weeks to come. And stil)
* +h sang and Peterson cursed; and
the audience grew. Then, at lust,
ti.ove came the police with notebook
~cmplete, and the singer stopped
+ to laugh.
I" ¢ next moment the laugh froze en
«ox ps. Standing by the skylight, with
i1 » revolver raised, was Lakington, and
Fiugh knew by the expression of his
face that his finger was trembling on
the trigger. Out of view of the crowd
below he did not know of its existence,
and, in a flash, Hugh realized his dan
ger.
“Good morrow, Henry,” he said
quietly. “I wouidn’t fire if I were you.
We are observed, as they say in melo-
drama. If you don’t believe me,” his
voice grew a little tense, “just wait
while I talk to Peterson, who is at pres-
ent deep in converse with the village
constable and several farm laborers.”
It is doubtful whether any action in
Hugh Drummond’s life ever cost him
such an effort of will as the turning
of his back on the man standing two
yards below him, but he did it ap-
parently without thought. He gave one
last glance at the face convulsed with
rage, and then with a smile he looked
down at the crowd below.
“Peterson,” he called out affably.
“there’s a pal of yours up here—dear
old Henry. And 2ae’s very annoyed at
my concert. Would you just speak to
him, or would you like me to be more
explicit? He is so annoyed that there
might be an accident at any moment,
and I see that the police have ar-
rived. So—er 4
Even at that distance he could see
Peterson’s eyes of fury, and he chuck-
led softly to himself. But when the
leader spoke, his voice was as suave
as ever; the eternal cigar glowed even-
ly at its normal rate.
“Are you up on the roof, Laking-
ton?” The words came clearly through
the still summer air.
“Your turn, Henry,” said Drummond.
“Prompter’s voice off—‘yes, dear Peter-
son, I am here, even upon the roof,
with a liver of hideous aspect.”
With a mighty effort Lakington con-
trolled himseif, ing his veice, when he
answered, was calm.
“Yes, I'm here. What's the matter?”
“Nothing,” cried Peterson, “but
we've got quite a large and apprecia-
tive audience down here, attracted by
our friend’s charming concert, gnd I've
just sent for a large ladder by which
he can come down and join us. So
there is nothing that yoa c¢an do—
nothing.” He repeated the word with
a faint emphasis, and Hugh smiled
genially.
“I'm interested in quite a number of
things, Captain Drummond,” said Lak-
iagton slowly, “but they all count as
nothing beside one—getting even with
you. And when I do . . .” He
dropped the revolver into his coat
pocket, and stood motionless, staring
at the soldier.
The next instant he opened a door
in the skylight which Hugh had failed
to discover during the night, and,
climbing down a ladder inside the
room, disappeared from view.
“Hullo, old bean!” A cheerful shout
from the ground made Hugh look
down. There, ranged round Peterson,
in an effective group, were Peter Dar-
rell, Algy Longworth, and Jerry Sey-
mour. “Bird’s-nestin’?”
“Peter, old soul,” cried Hugh joy-
fully, “I never thought the dav would
come when I should be pleased to see
your face, but it has!”
“Ted and his pal, Hugh, have toddled
off in your car,” said Peter, “so that
only leaves us four and Toby.”
For a moment Hugh stared at him
blankly, while he did some rapid men-
tal arithmetic. He even neglected to
descend at once by the ladder which
had at last been placed in position.
a Mg iX | :
Ted and us four and Toby” made § | Then, quite suddenly, he bent and
{
—and six was the strength
party as it had arrived. Adding the
pal made seven; so who the deuce
was the pal?
The matter was settled just as he
reached the ground. Lakington, wild-
eyed and almost incoherent, rushed
from the house, and, drawing Peter-
son on one side, spoke rapidly in a
whisper.
“It’s all right,” muttered Algy rap-
idly. “They're half-way to London
by now, und going like h— if I know
Ted.”
It was then that Hugh started to
Jaugh. He laughed tiil the tears poured
down his face, and Peterson's livid
face of fury made him laugh still
more.
“Oh you priceiess pair!” he sobbed.
“Right under your bally noses. Stole
away! Yoicks!” There was another
interlude for further hilarity. “Give
it up, you two old dears, and take to
knitting. Well, au revoir. Doubtless
we shall meet again quite soon. And,
above all, Carl, don’t do anything In
Paris which you would be ashamed of
my knowing.”
With a friendly wave he turned on |
his heel and strolled off, followed by
the other three. The humor of the
situation was irresistible; the absolute
powerlessness of the whole assembled
gang to lift a finger to stop them in
front of the audieace, which as yet |
showed no signs of departing, tickled
him to death. In fact, the last thing
Hugh saw, before a corner of the
house hid them from sight, was the
majesty of the law moistening his in- |
de¥ble pencil in the time-honored
method, and advancing on Peterson
with his notebook at the ready.
“One brief interlude, my dear old
warriors,” announced Hugh, “and then
we must get gay. Where's Teby?”
“Having his breakfast with ycur
girl,” chuckled Algy. “We thought
we'd better leave someone on guard,
and she seemed to love him best.”
“Repulsive hound!” cried Hugh,
“mcidentally, boys, how did you man-
age to roll up this merning?”
“We all bedded down at your girl's
plage last night” said Peter. “and
then this morning, who should come
and sing carols outside but our one
and onty Potts. Then we heard your
¢eefening din on the rosf, and blew
along.” =
TWO.
“Go away,” said Toby, looking up
a6 the door opened and Hugh strolled
fn. “Your presence is unnecessary
dilik
With Her Hands on His Coat and Her
Big Eyes Misty With Her Fears for
Him, She Begged Him to Give It
All Up.
and uncalled for. and we're Diy
pleased. Are we, Miss Benton?”
“Can you bear him, Phyllis?’ re-
marked Hugh, with a grin. “1 mevn
lying about the house all day?”
“What's the notion, old son?’ ‘l'ohy
Sinclair stood up, looking slightly pu:
zed,
“I want you to stop here, Tohy.”
sald Hugh, “and not let Miss Benton
out of your sight. Also keep your
eye skinned on The Elms, and et me
know by ’phone to Half Moon srreet
anything that happens. Do you get
me?”
“I get you,” answered the other.
With a resigned sigh he rose and
walkeg to the door.
“I've got five minutes, little girl.”
whispered Hugh, taking her into his
arms as the door closed. “Five min-
utes of heaven. , By Jovel
But you look great—simply great.”
The girl smiled at him. :
“Tell me what's happened, boy.”
che said eagerly. .
“Quite a crowded night” With a
of the !
wa
reminiscent smile he lit a cigarette.
And then quite briefly he told her of
tbe events of the past twelve hours
being, as is the manner of a man, more
interested in watching the sweet color
which stained her cheeks from time
to time, and noticing her quickened
breathing when he told her of his fight
with the gorilla, and his ascent of the
murderous staircase.
When he had finished, and pitched
the stump eof his cigarette into the
grate, falteringly she tried to dissuade
{ him. With her hands on his coat. and
her big eyes misty with her fears for
him, she begged him to give it all up.
And even as she spoke, she gloried in
the fact that she knew it was quite
useless. Which made her plead all
the harder, as is tbe way of a woman
. with her man.
kissed her.
“I must go, little girl,” he whispered.
“I've got to be in Paris tonight. Take
care of yourself.”
The next moment he was gone.
THREE.
“Have you got him all right, Ted?”
Hugh flung the question eagerly at
Ted Jerningham, who was lounging
in a chair at’ Half Moon street, with
lis feet on the mantelpiece.
“I've got him right enough,” an-
swereid that worthy, “but he doesn’t
strike me as being Number One value.
He's gone off the boil. Become quite
gugga again.”
“H—I1!" said Hugh, “I thought we
might get something out of him. I'll
go and have a look at the bird.”
He left the room, and went along
the passage to inspect the American.
Unfortunately Jerningham was only
too right: The effects of last night's
injection had worn off completely, and |
the wretched man was sitting motion-
less in a chair, staring dazedly in
‘front of him.
Thoughtfully Hugh stood in front
of the millionaire, trying in vain to
, catch some gleam of sense in the
| vacant eyes.
| “What luck?” Jerningham looked up
, as he came back into the other room.
i “Dam’ all, as they say in the ver-
nacular. Have you blighters finished
| the beer?”
| “Probably,” remarked Peter Dar-
.rall. “What's the program now?”
Hugh examined the head on his
glass with a professional eye before
replying.
{ “Two things,” he murmured at
: length, “fairly leap to the eye. The
first is to get Potts away to a place
of safety; the second Is to get over
(to Paris.”
“Well. let's get gay over the first,
‘as a kick-off," said Jerningham, ris-
ling. “There’s a car outside the door;
there England nat our
Wel! take him away; you pad
hoof to Victoria and catch the bLout-
train.”
"It
Hugh.
tog. Ted, and you'll see 4 man frizht-
ful v busy doing nothing not far from
11se door.
ur just across the street.
compress on your head, snd connect
the two."
is
sounds too easy,” rewmnrked
I A gloomy silence settled on the as- |
sembiy, to be broken by Jerry Sey-
mmvur suddenly waking up witb a
Fort.
“I've got the ‘stomuch-ache,’” he uo-
nounced proudly.
His listeners guzed at him un-
| moved.
“You shouldn’t eat so fast,” re-
marked Algy severely. “And you cer-
tainly oughtn’t to drink that beer.”
To avert the disaster he immedi-
vtely consumed it himself, but Jerry
was too engrossed with his brain-
storm to notice.
“I've got the ‘stomach-ache,’” he re-
peated, “and she ought to be ready
by now. In fact T know she is.
last crash wasn't a bad one. What
sbout it?’ :
“You mean . . .
staring at him.
“I mean,” answered Jerry, “that
Ill go off to the airdrome now, and
get her ready. Bring Potts along in
half an hour, and I'll take him to
the governor's place in Norfolk. Then
I'll take you over to Paris.”
“Great !—simply great!” With a
report like a gun Hugh hit the speak-
er on the back, inadvertently knock-
ing him down. “Off you get, Jerry.
By the way, how many will she hold?’
“Two beside me,” spluttered the
proud proprietor of the Stomach-ache.
“And 1 wish you’d reserve your en-
dearments for people of your own
size, you great, fat, hulking mon-
strosity.”
He reached the door with a moment
to spare, and Hugh came back laugh-
ing.
“Verily—an upheaval in the grey
matter,” he cried, carefully refilling
Lis glass. “Now, boys, what about
Paris?”
“Is it necessary to go at all?” asked
Peter. vs
“It wouldn't have been if the Yank
had been sane,” ' answered Drum-
mond. “As it is, I guess I've got to.
Now listen—all of you. Ted—off you
go, and raise a complete waiter’s out-
fit, dicky and all complete. Peter—
you come with me to the airdrome,
and afterward look up Mullings, at
13 Green street, Hoxton, and tell him
to get in touch with at least fifty
demobilized soldiers who are on for a
scrap, Algy—you hold the fort here,
and don't get drunk on my ale. Peter
will join you, when he’s finished with
Mullings, and he’s not to get drank,
either. “Are you'all on?"
Ten minutes later he was at the
wheel of his car with Darrell and the
millionaire behind. But Hugh seemed
in no great hurry to start. A whim-
sical smile was on his face, as out
7” sald Hugh,
disposal’ |
the |
“Have a look out of the win- |
You will ulso see a racing |
Put a wet |
My:
of the corner of his eye he watched
the man who had been busy doing
nothing feverishly trying to crank his
car, which, after the manner cf the
brutes, had seized that mement to jib.
Still smiling, Hugh got out and
waiked. up to the perspiring driver.
“A warm day.” he murmured.
“Don’t hurry; we'll wait for you.”
Then, while the man, utterly taken
aback. stared at him speech'essly, he
strolied back to his own ear.
“Hugh—you're mad, quite mad.”
| said Teter resignedly, as with a splut-
tering roar the other car started, but
Hugh still smiled. On the way to
the airdrome he stopped twice after a
block in the traffic to make quite sure
that the pursuer should have no
chance of losing him, and, by the time
they were clear of the traffic and spin-
ning toward their destination, the gen-
tleman in the car behind fully agreed
with Darrell.
| At first he had expected some trick,
being a person of tortuous brain; but
as time went on, and nothing unex-
pected happened, he became assured.
His orders were to follow the mil-
lionaire, and inform headquarters
| where he was taken to. And assured-
i 'v at the moment it seemed easy mon-
: Then, quite suddenly, the hum-
ming stopped -and he frowned. The
car in front had swung off the road,
and turned through the entrance of a
" small airdrome. What the devil was
lke to do now? Most assuredly he
could not pursue an airplane on a mo-
| tor—even a racer. Blindly, without
thinking, he did the first thing that
came into his head. He left his car
standing where it was, and followed
the others into the airdrome on foot.
+ Perhans he could find out something
| from one of the mechanics; someone
! might be able to tell him where the
ey.
There she was with the car beside
. her, and already the millionaire was
|
plane was going.
|
' being strapped into his seat. Drum-
{ mond was talking to the pilot, and
the sleuth, full of eagerness, accosted
fn passing mechanic,
“Can yeu tell me where that air-
plane is going to?’ he asked ingrati-
| atingly.
It was perhaps unfortunate that the
| said mechanic had just had a large
| spanner dropped cn his toe, and his
answer: was not helpful. It was an
education in one way, and at any oth- |
ed it with the respect it deserved.
But, as it was, it was unfortunate
that Peter Darrell should have chosen
that moment to look round. And all
| he saw was the mechanic talking ear-
nestly to the sleuth. . Where-
ipon he talked earnestly to Drum-
mond. , .
In thinking it over after, that un-
happy sleuth whose job had seemed so
i easy, found it difficult to say exactly
All of a sudden he
|
!
1
|
|
|
{
|
|
|"er time the pursuer would have treat-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
what happened.
| all very affable and most conversa-
tional. Tt took him quite five minutes
| to get back to his car, and by that
| t!me the plane was a speck in the
| west. Drummond was standing by
the gates when he got there, with a
look of profound surprise on his face.
I “One I have seen often,” remarked
| the soldier; “two sometimes; three
rarely ; four never. Farcy four pune-
| tnres—all at the same time! Dear,
i degr! 1 positively Incest orn giving
i vor q ULL”
He felt himself irresistibly propelled
toward Drummond’s car, with only
. time for a fleeting glimpse at his own
‘ four flat tires, and almost before he
, realized it they were away. And it
was then that the man he had thought
mad laughed gently.
| “Is it all right, Peter?" Hugh asked.
© “All safe,” came a voice from bhe-
hind.
| “Then dot him one!”
|. The sleuth had a fleeting vision of
stars of all colors which danced be-
| fore his eyes, coupled with a stun-
ing blow on the back of the head.
Vaguely he realized the car was pull-
i ing up—then blackness.
FOUR.
“My dear fellow, I told you we'd
get here somehow.” Hugh Drummond
stretched his legs luxuriously. “The
fact that it was necessary to crash
your blinking bus in a stray field in
order to avoid their footling pass-
port regulations is absolutely imma-
terial. The only damage is a dent in
Ted's dicky, but all the best waiters
have that. They smear it with soup
to show their energy... . My God!
Here's another of them.”
A Frenchman was advancing to-
ward them down the stately vestibule
of the Ritz waving protesting hands.
He addressed himself in a voluble
crescendo to Drummond, who rose and
bowed deeply. His knowledge of
French was microscopic, but such tri-
fles were made to be overcome.
The Frenchman produced a note-
book. “Votre nom, M'sieur, 8'il vous
| plait?”
“Undoubtedly, mon Colonel,” re-
marked Hugh vaguely. “Nous crash-
ons dans—"
“He wants your name, old dear,”
murmured Jerry weakly.
“Oh, does he?’ Hugh beamed on
the gendarme. “You priceless little
bird! My name is Captain Hugh
Drummond.”
And as he spoke, a man sitting close
by, who had been an amused onlooker
of the whole scene, stiffened suddenly
in his chair and stared hard at Hugh.
It was only for a second, and then
he was once more merely the politely
interested spectator. - But Hugh had
seen that quick look, though he gave
no sign; and when at last the French-
=an departed, apparently satisfied, he
leaned over and spoke to Jerry.
“See that man with the suit of
hand-me-downs and the cigar?” he re-
marked. “He's in the game; I'm just
wondering on which side.”
He was not left long in doubt, for
found himself surrounded by people— |
barely had the swing doors closed
behind the gendarme, when the man
in question rose and came over to
him.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said, in a pro-
nounced nasal twang, “but 1 heard
you say you were “aptain Hugh
Drummond. 1 guess you're one of
the men I've come across the water
to see. My card.”
Hugh glanced at the pasteboard lan-
guidly. .
“Mr. Jerome K. Green,” he mun
mured. “What a jolly sort of name.”
“See here, Captain,” went on the
other, suddenly displaying a badge
hidden under his coat. “That'll put
you wise. That badge is the badge of
the police force of the United States
of America; and that same force is
humming some at the moment.” He
sat down beside Hugh, and bent for.
ward confidentially. “There's a prom.
inent citizen of New York city been
mislaid, Captain; and, from informa-
tion we've got, we reckon you know
quite a lot about his whereabouts.
What about Hiram C. Potts?”
“What, indeed?’ remarked
“Sounds like a riddle, don’t it?”
“You've heard of him, Captain?”
“Few people have not.”
“Yes—Dbut you've met him recently,”
said the detective, leaning forward.
“You know where he is, and”—he
tapped Hugh on the knee impressively
—4] want him. 1 want to take him
back in cottonwool to his wife and
daughters. That's why I'm over on
this side, Captain, just for that one
purpose.”
“There seem to me to be a con-
siderable number of people wander-
ing around who share your opinion
Hugh.
JENIN MYRES
‘tle Must Be a Fupuier Sort of Cove?
about Mr. Potts,” drawled Hugh. “He
must be a popular sort of cove.”
“Popular ain’t the word for it, Cap-
twin,” said the other. “Have you
got him now?”
“an. ce aneitop of speaking, yes,” ane
swered Hugh, beckoning to a passing
waiter. “Three Martinis.”
“Where is he?” snapped the detective
eagerly.
Hugh laughed.
“Being wrapped up in cotton'veol
by somebody else's wife and daugh-
ters. You were a little too quick, Mr.
Green; you may be all you say—on
the other hand, you may not. And
these days I trust no one.”
The American nodded his head In
approval.
“Quite right,” he remarked. “My
motto—and yet I'm going to trust you.
Weeks ago we heard things on the
other side, through ‘certain channels,
as to a show which was on the ralls
overe here.”
Hugh nodded.
“IThen Hiram Potts got mixed up
in it; exactly how, we weren't wise
to. But it was enough to bring me
over here. Two days ago I got this
cable.” He produced a bundle of
papers, and handed one to Drum-
mond. “It's in cipher, as you see;
I've put the translation underneath.”
Hugh took the cablegram and
glanced at it. It was short and to
the point:
“Captain Hugh Drummond, of Half
Moon street, London, is your man.”
He glanced up at the American, who
drained his cocktail with the air of a
man who is satisfied with life.
“Captain Hugh Drummond of Half
Moon street, London, is my man,” he
chuckled. “Well, Captain, what about
it now? Will you tell me why you've
come to Paris? I guess it’s something
to do with the business I'm on.”
For a few moments Hugh did not
reply, and the American seemed in
no hurry for an answer.
arrivals for dinner sauntered through
the lounge and Drummond watched
them idly as they passed. The Ameri-
can detective certainly seemed all
right, ‘bat. . . Casually, his
glance rested on a man sitting just
opposite, reading the paper. He took
in the short, dark beard—the immacu-
late, though slightly foreign evening
clothes; evidently a wealthy French-
man giving a dinner party in the res-
taurant by the way the head walter
was hovering around. And then sud-
denly his eyes narrowed, and he sat
motionless.
®Are you interested in the psvcholo-
gy of gambling, Mr, Green?” he re-
marked, turning to the somewhat
astonished American. “Some people
cannot control their eyes or their
mouth if the stakes are big; others
Some early .
cannot control their hands. For In-
stance, the gentleman opposite. Does
anything strike you particularly with
regard to him?”
The detective glanced across the
lounge. :
“He seems to like hitting his knee
with his left hand,” he said, after
a short inspection.
“Precisely.” murmured Hugh. “That
is why I came to Paris.”
CHAPTER IX.
In Which He Has a Near Shave.
ONE.
“Captain, you have me guessing.”
The American bit the end off another
cigar, and leaned back in his chalr.
“You say that swell Frenchman with
the waiters hovering about like fleas
round a dog's tail is the reason you
came to Paris. Is he kind of friend-
ly with Hiram C. Potts?”
Drummond laughed.
“The first time I met Mr. Potts,”
he remarked, “that swell Frenchman
was just preparing to put a thumb-
screw on his second thumb.”
“Seccnd?’ The detective looked up
guickly.
“The first had been treated earlier
in the evening,” answered Druminond
quietly. “It was then that I removed
your millionaire pal.”
The other lit hig cigar deliberately.
“Say, Captain,” he murmured, ‘you
ain’t pulling my leg by any chance,
are you?’
“I am not,” said Drummond short-
ly. “I was told, before I met him,
that’ the gentleman over there was
one of the boys. . He is, most
distinctly. In fact, though up to date
such matters have not been much in
my line, I should put him down as a
sort of super-criminal. I wonder what
name he is passing under here?”
The American ceased pulling at his
cigar.
“Do they vary?”
“In England he is clean-shaven, pos-
_sesses a daughter, and answers to
. Carl Peterson. As he is at present I
should never have known him, but for
+ that little trick of his.”
For the
time - the detective displayed
“Holy Smoke!
“Possesses a daughter!”
first
traces of excitement.
It can’t be him!”
“Who?” demanded Drummond.
But the other did not answer. Out
of the corner of his eye he was watch-
ing three men who had just joined
the subject of their talk, and on his
tace was a dawning amazement. He
waited till the whole party had gone
into the restaurant, then, throwing
aside his caution, he turned excitedly
! on Drummond.
“Are you certain,” he cried, “that
that’s the man who has been monkey-
ing with Ports?”
“Absolutely,” said Hugh. “He rec-
ognized me; whether he thinks I rec-
ognized him or not, I don’t know.”
“Then what,” remarked the de-
tective, “is he doing here dining with
Eocking, our cotton trust man; with
Steinemann, the German coal man;
and with that other guy whose face
"is familiar, but whose name I can’t
place? Two of ‘em at any Pate, Cap-
tain, hiave got more millions than
we're ever likely to have thousands.”
¥ugh stared at the American.
“Last night,” he said slowly, “he
| was foregathering with a crowd of
the most atrocious ragged-trousered
revolutionaries it’s ever been my luck
to run up against.”
“We're in it, Captain, right in the
middle of it,” cried the detective, slap-
ping his leg. “I'll eat my hat if that
Frenchman isn’t Franklyn—or Lib-
stein—or Baron Darott—or any other
of the blamed names he calls himself.
He's a genius; he's the goods. Geel”
he whistled gently under his breath,
“If we could only lay him by the
heels.”
(To he Continued..)
HOW THE COLOR SEAS WERE
NAMED.
There are several large seas which
were named for their colors. The
White Sea bears its name with per-
haps the best reason of any. Its
shores are covered with snow the
greater part of the year, and its froz-
en surface is for that time a snowy
plain.
The Red Sea is also entitled to its
name. Through its clear waters the
reefs of red coral are clearly to be
seen. Much of its rocky bed is the
' growth of the coral insect. Another
reason, and probably the true one for
the name of this sea, is the fact that
along its shores lies ancient Edom.
| This name signifies red.
In the case of the Yellow Sea its
| name is sufficiently accounted for from
| the appearance of its water. The sea
receives a great deal of mud from the
rivers of China, moreover, it is shal-
| low, and the sandy bottom gives its
{own color a long way out from the
! shore.
| The Black Sea affords no clear ac-
count of its name. The waters are
not black, but blue. The Greeks, when
they first became acquainted with this
sea, called it by a name which signi-
fies The Inhospitable. Later they
, changed it to the Hospitable. It has
naturally been inferred by this change
of name that upon further acquain-
tance the Greek sailors found these
waters friendly. But the Greeks were
inclined to give soft and flattering
names to the objects of their dread,
and that may be what they did in this
particular case. The Greek name holds
to this day among the older nations of
Europe. The Russians called the sea
Black. It seems likely that this name
was suggested by contrast. The sea
lies south of Russia, as the White Sea
lies to the north. Had the latter been
called the North Sea, then the Hos-
pitable of the Greeks might have been
named by the Russians, South Sea. In
the same way Black Sea was named in
| contrast to the White Sea.—Well-
spring.