6 MY WELCOME. In the lighted homes at evening, pressed agaln3t the window-tflasa Are the little childish faces—l can see them as 1 pass, Little eager faces watching for a father's coming feet. Ready for a rush of welcome when he en ters from the street; And my heart grows sad with longing, and my eyes with tears are wet. Thinking of my own home-coming, and the welcome others geL Then I see the stars are shining—lights from mansions far above. Where my little ones await me. In the home of perfect love; And I think how they will greet me with their smiles and kisses sweet. When my day of life Is ended and they hear my coming feet. Till my burden grows less heavy and my heart forgets to grieve, AM I thing of that home-going and the wel come I'll receive. —Gertrude Benedict Curtis, In Chicago Ad vance. r-H o"Tcui (Copyright. IBU6, by I) Appleton & Co. All rights reserved.] SYNOPSIS. Master Ardick, Just reached his majority and thrown upon his own resources, after statins his case to one Houthwiek, a ship master, is shipped as second mate on the Industry, bound for Havana. Mr. Tym, the supercargo, descries a gall. The strange vessel gives chase, but is disabled by the Industry's guns. In the fray Capt. Houth wiok and one of the crew are killed, but the Industry is found to be little damaged. Bellinger , first mate, takes charge and puts Into Sldmouth to secure a new mate. Several days later, when well out to sea, an English merchantman Is met, whose captain has a letter addressed to Jeremiah Hope, at Havana. The crew of the vessel t*ll strange tales of the buccaneer Morgan, ■9fho is sailing under the king's commission to take Panama. One night a litttle later, the English vessel having proceeded on her course, a bit of paper is slipped into Ar dlck's hand by one of the sailors. This is found to be a warning of a mutiny plot headed by Pradey, the new mate. Ardick consults Mr. Tym. They resolve to secure the mate, but Pradey, eavesdropping in the cabin, makes through the dorr and arouses the crew. Capt. Selllnger joins Ardick and Tym. The crew break through the row barricaded door, but are forced to retire, having lost seven of their nunVber. Finding themselves now too short-handed toman age the boat. Pradey decides to scuttle and desert the vessel, taking his men off in the only available boat. The captain, super cargo and second mate soon discover their plight, but hastily constructing a raft bet away just before their vessel sinks. The next morning a Spaniard draws near them. The man in the rigging shouts: "If you would board us, take to your oars. He speedy, or you will fall short." On board they are sent forward with thecrew, being told they wil be sold as slaves on reaching Panama. The ship's cook they tlnd to be Mac Ivrach. "frae Clagvurloch." so a, friend. Four days later the Spaniard Is overhauled by a buccaneer flying the Eng lish flag. The three Englishmen and Mac Ivrach plan to escape to the buccaneer on a rude raft. Sellinger, the last to attempt to leave the Spaniard, is disabled. Just after the others nut off they see a figure dangling from the yard arm. whom they suppose is Capt. Sellinger. Hailing the buc caneer, our three friends find themselves In the hands of their old mate, Pradey. He treats (hem kindly and offers to do them no harm If they wil but remain quiet con cerning the mutiny he headed. The Black Eagle, Pradey's ship, comes to Chagre, Cuba, which town thoy tind Morgan has taken under the English flag. From her the Black Eagle with Morgan's fleet pro ceeds to Panama. The command consists of about 1,200 men Having landed, they march on to the city. The assault on the city is begun Many of the buccaneers fall, nd Ardick is wounded. Through the smoke he sees Pradey approaching. The city at last falls. Ardick, coming to, finds Tym had rescued him from Pradey's murderous hand by killing the villain. The Spanish flag has been hauled down from the castle and the men allowed to plunder the city ct will. Mac Ivrach spies a figure coming toward them, and exclaims: "The gaist o the captain." It Is indeed Sellinger. He recounts his late adventures, then he leads them to the rescueof Don Enrique de Cavodilla, who had been kind to him on the Pilanca, the Spanish vessel on which lie had been a prisoner. Flight is the only course open to the don, his wife and daugh ter (Dona Carmen.) They Just manage to leave the building when Capt. Tow land comes to claim the dona as his prize, under the huccarieeers' rule. Mr. Tym parleys to gain time for the flight of his party, then allows the men to enter. Seeking shortly to join the don, they come upon his dead body. They find also his wife has been elaln and the young dora taken prisoner to the castle, and immediately conceive a bold plan for her rescue. They soon dis cover her exact whereabouts, and amid the carousals of the men, manage to again fr f her and escape in a small boat. The third day out a sail tsspted which they raise rap idly, their craft having little speed, but the wind soon fails both vessels, and a small boat Is put out from the stranger. This comes with 15 armed men, among whom Is Towland. A hand-to-hand conflict ensues, and Mr. Tym is wounded in the neck. Tn the end the hostile force is completely worsted, none escaping?. Tym's wound is found not serious; Sellinger has also been slightly wounded. Coming now out of their sorest straits, they learn from Dona Car men her nearest relative is an uncle, a Jeremiah Hope, of Havana. Sellinger re calls he has a letter for this gentleman, so decides to sail for that place. Not long afterward they come across a vv est in dlan vessel bound for Panama. On board Is her owner, the Jeremiah Hope they had all along wanted to encounter. learning of the fate of Panama, the course of the vessel Is turned for Valparaiso. One night Ardick finds Dona Carmen alone on deck, and he tells her of his love for her and la not rejected, but the consent of her uncle must be had. which Ardick Immediately proceeds to ask. CHAPTER XXII.—CONTINUED. I was not surprised that Mr. Hope's feet came down from the chain, and that he stiffened up and looked at me with a clouded countenance. I faced him steadfastly. "This is a sort of business I was not •xpecting," he said, in a cold and yet well-mastered voice. "May I ask if you have considered all that goes with your proposition ?" "As what, sir?" said 1, apprehend ing well enough what he ineartt, yet wishing to draw him out. "I had thought better of your un derstanding," he said, speaking now with the harshness he had concealed before. "What should I mean but the proof of your fitness for the match? In a word, what fortune have you, and what are your other qualifications that I should consider you?" "That," I said, never flinching. "I can as yet return but aji indifferent an swer to. I mean from what I con ceive is your standpoint. My personal character, I may say, is all you can ask for. As for fortune, I have none, and no better than fair prospects. I mean to follow the sea, at least, for a time, and trus<t by and by to come to the command of a ship, the which shots'd not be such a poor attainment. My father was a sailor," I went on,"and rose to be a master and owned three »,arts of his ship. I trust with so briety and diligence to do ac much. lie puffed out his lips, somewhat in Mr. Tj ra's fashion, and squared about to his former posture. 1 thought my undauntedness and straightforward ness had at least sihaken him. He finally answered, his voice at least lowered from the first high pitch: "But, granting this, what then? At best your plan requires considerable time." "That I admit," I said, reluctantly. "It could not well be compassed under a few years." "And meanwhile my niece might lose a desirable match. Come, I would not be unreasonable. You seem a likely enough fellow, and all I have heard of you commends you, yet notwith standing I cannot now concede what you wish. Goon and achieve the things yon speak of, if you can, and then we will see what is to be said. Further than this 1 will not promise. Indeed. I have gone beyond my first intent in yielding so much. But it must, be un derstood that there is to be no more love-making. I shall have my eyes open —which it seems hitherto I have not, or have been overpassed—and all infringement I shall meet bv strict measures. Now you have my answer, which I have meant should be to the point, as is my custom." He ended with a little more severity than he had begun, yet not harshly, and seemed to await my answer. In good sooth, I could not find much fault. Fie had not given me the sort of reiply I could have wished, to be sure, and I did not goto the length of finding much encouragement in his generalities; yet, on the other hand, he had not flatly refused me, and he had not treated my suit with con tempt. I perceived that it stood me in hand to meet him in the prompt and frank fashion he seemed to look for, and hence I nodded in a satisfied way and answered: "I can ask nothing more. I am aware that the greatness of what I seek is beyond my deserts. Let it stand as it is, then. You do not posi tively refuse me, and I have my own success to work out. I am beholden to you, sir, for your consideration." "Why, you are welcome," he an swered, quite genially. "And, Master Ardick," he went on, as I rose and made togo, "I would say that I wish to stand your friend. I have very keen ly in mind the obligation you have placed me under—you and your com panions. I trust at no distant day to be able to repay some small share of the debt." "I thank you in turn," I said, rather coldly, "but in the present hospitality you repay all that I, at least, can ac cept. I wish you good-night." And with a well-managed bit of loft iness (albeit my heart was heavy) I turned and stalked over to the com panion. "Master Ardick!" he called after me, to my surprise. "Aye, sir," I responded, wheeling in stantly, my pulse suddenly quickened. "Mentioning your companions sug gests another matter. Do you recall that I once asked you whence they hailed?" "I do," I answered, considerably dis appointed. I had expected something to another purpose. "And you said that Mr. Tym and the captain were from Southampton and Mac Ivrach from Glasgow? lam ask ing merely to be sure I understood you." "You are a little astray,"l answered, my silly irritation passing; "only the captain is from Southampton. Mr. Tym, though he has of late lived in London—that is, when not at sea— was born and reared in some town in Sussex." "Is it so?" he said, with a little sur prise. "Then I misapprehended you. That alters the case. I must see Mr. Tym. I will explain to you that the business concerns the letter that Gapt. Bellinger brought. This letter was from a dear friend of mine, now dead, and is of very much importance. It was written in New York, where my friend lived, and came to me in the strange and roundabout way you know of. Among other things, I must now get upon the track of a certain family of Sussex. If you are about to go below, will you not ask Mr. Tym to step up hither?" "Certainly," I answered, and with a slight distraction from my own m»t ters for the moment, I wished him good night and left the deck. CHAPTER XXIII. OF THE DETERMINATION OF THE WHOLE MATTER. But once dived down into the quiet (none of the passengers were in sight), the concern and trouble of the old matter returned. The prospect came back, dubious and uncertain, and the pride which had sustained me so well till now incontinently left me. I made forward with heavy feet, and only pulled myself together at the door of the berth, where I took thought that Mr. Tym might notice me. I entered and found him up and already about togo on deck, and de livered Mr. Hope's message. He pe plied: "Very well," and after finding that I was not forgoing back, passed out, and I heard him ascend the brass shod stairs. I might now momentarily see my love, which I was bound to do, and tell her how matters had gone, and, be sides—well, I hoped for a fleeting em brace. Most likely it would be our first and last. I slipped out into the main cabin, accordingly, running my eye about tender the dim, grease-smelling lamps, but again finding the place empty, and stole along to the senorita's door. At my first light knock she opened it. She was habited as she left the deck, even to the mantilla. Her face was pale, and her eyes seemed big and bright, showing the strain of her anxiety. "He makes little of me, yet he has not absolutely refused me," I hastily whispered. CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1899. "Oh. then there is hope!" she cried, | tingeing instantly with color and clasping her hands. "He did not de spise you?" "Nay," I answered, trembling with ' love and tenderness, "not so bad as that." I could not find it in my heart to disclose the doubts and dubiousness that were oppressing tne. "But yet you speak heavily," she said, looking at ine more narrowly, "and there is that in your air— What were his words, Carlos?" "That he bids ine rise to a station in life fit to sue for you," I was now pressed to answer; "but even then promises nothing. Inshort, he treated me with civility, and perhaps beyond my deserts, but has left me with near as many doubts as I had at first. And yet—" "Poor Carlos!" she gently broke in, and to my infinite delight she laid her hand gently against my cheek. "I perceive how it is. He has played the shrewd merchant with you, and has dealt with you in a fashion to avoid offense, yet to afford little hope. But be not discouraged, for if he did not come out with harshness against you he is not offended with you, and that I am sure is much. I am now better heartened than I have been at any time before, and believe that all will yet come out in triumph for us." "Dear heart," said I, with a shaking .voice, and, unable to utter any more words, I clapped the caressing hand to my lips and with another motion drew her unresisting to my breast. God wot never was a purer woman, but she was no prude, and the generous blood of Spain flowed in her veins. She slipped her arms about my neck and put her lips to mine, and let me draw her loving weight to me, and so we clung for a single moment. The shortest moment in my life. Feet began to clatter down the com panion stairs, and with one swift, ten der kiss and"l am yours, Carlos, or if not, then the veil! The Ilaly One keeip jou!" she was inside and the door closed, and I was speeding to my cabin. I reached the door just as the per son coming down fetched into the range of the lamps. To my relief, it wasMr.Tym. Nevertheless, I had never seen him when he was less welcome. "Is't you, Ardick?" he asked, as I paused by the door. "Why, yes, now I see it is. Come in, for I have a thing to tell you." I felt little curiosity, for the greater matter moved me, but I passed after him into the berth. "Well, Ardich," he began, "to save you guessing, I will go straight to the bowels of the matter. I hava fallen heir to a great fortune." Distraught as I was and full of the other affair, this, nevertheless, gave "Tn® lady i« on d*ok. M me a start. Recollecting myself and how I ought to behave toward one who had deserved so well of me, I caught his hand and shook it heartily. "I congratulate you, with all my soul," I cried. "No man in the world deserves the luck better!" "Avast! you over-exalt me," he laughed. "But it is the strangest thing in the world. To come to the point, then, it is Torr3'corn's letter which has brought so much to pass. First, a certain cousin, that I never saw, died, and left me his entire great possessions. He did it out of regard for my mother, it seems, whom he greatly loved. While dying he wrote a letter to Mr. Hope, his dear friend and business agent, begging that he be executor of the will, and sent the letter to a sea captain, who was soon to sail for Havana. By mistake the letter went to Capt. Torrycorn, and soon after Mr. Hope himself sailed for Panama. Having considerable busi ness on the way he was deterred from the first plan of his voyage, and reached this point later than he had expected. Yet still he did arrive in precise season to meet us, to receive his letter, and to find at his very elbow the man the letter concerned. Shall you find the match of all this for strangeness and the very whim of for tune?" "Indeed," said I, much surprised, "it passes all that I ever heard of. But what is the amount of the fortune?" "It is set forth in the letter to be ninety thousand pounds sterling, but may fall something short," he an swered. "It isnminly invested in lands about New York and in ships. It was in the business of the last that my cousin made his fortune. I mean in the plantation trade. It is a bit strange that I never heard of him, but then his ships plied mostly between our easterly ports and New York, and I had no great knowledge of matters in those parts." But here something gave me a little start. "Ships, then," said I, "will cut • considerable figure with you. Do you mean to keep them or sell them?" "That I can answer better when I see them, and likewise come to some determination us to the other prop erty," he answered. "But it may be 1 apprehend you. You would like to be speak a berth?" "It seems hasty and eager to men tion it," I replied, a little in depreca tion, "but the fact is—" "Say no more," he cried, clapping me on the back. "Can you doubt me? Why, man, you shall be second mate of my best ship. After that mate, and then captain. Why not? And your pay shall start with a iound sum, and 1 not cheated, either, for you are worth it. Sellinger at first shall be your su perior—for I have him also in mind, to advance his fortunes—and I think you could not ask for a better." "God bless you!" I cried. "This is more than you think:!'* In spite of me the tears came into my eyes. "Why, Ardick, man, you have some thing behind the lighter!" he said, looking at me sharply. "Nay, out with it and relieve your mind. I much doubt if you will find more sympathetic ears." "That I know," I said, with a sob, "but, indeed, I am but a poor creature. I think I have lost the little courage I had. Yet here is the matter, since you are foolish enough to consent to hear it." And with no words spared and many flounderings and pullings up I disclosed my secret. "And so," he said with an odd kind of precision, "that is the thing behind the lighter? A stirring enough little matter, too, but not calling for much dwelling on." "Sir!" I cried, reproachfully. "Nay, but hear me," he said, waving his hand. "Eight-and-twenty years ago I was young and was in love. I thought as you did, and was intoxicated in the same fashion. I married after a time." I was silent. I thought I knew what he was about to say. His marriage had proved unhappy. "In two years my wife died,"he went on, his voice dropping and sobering. "Those two years were happier than all the time before or siuce. When it came to the. last I asked Margaret, to thank God for me that He had given me the sweet loan of her. I promised that I would strive to join her some day. notwithstanding my many imper fections, which still I mean to do, yet in chief through the merits of Christ, blessed be His name! for He must make up my lack. And now to your matter, which you must think I have strayed from. Having been in this way happy myself, I conceive it a good and sweet thing if I roightmake you do likewise, and this I believe I can do. I have now neither kith nor kin— poor George IJenther was surely the last, as I thought another was before him—and it will be fitting if I name an heir. Why not you, Ardick, whom in truth I love? I will adopt you, and so at last 1 shall have a son. And now do you think your matter worth much dwelling on, for have we not found a way to men 1 it? I trow my heir and the agent of my ships, with good ven tures of his own and what not, may aspire to this young woman's hand? Lf not, let me know, and we will see whether the house of Reginald Tym has forgotten how to uphold its hon or by the sword!" Long before the end of this epilogue, svhich indeed the man spoke with the water standing in his eyes, I had seized his hand and' with trembling lips had kissed it. He broke off with this, standing up and clapping on his hat. "Yet wait a little, for, after all, the business is not quite concluded. I w'ould see Mr. Hope." He retreated out of the berth, and with feelings which you may guess, but which I cannot hope to put into words, I dropped down on the side of the bunk and awaited his return. He was gone above 20 minutes. When be came in he made a grave bow and pointed to my hat. 4 laughingly and yet-in a great trem ble clapped it on, which done, he took my arm and led me out and up the companion stairs. Near the top he only said: "The lady is on deck. Why there I cannot say, unless it might be to greet a certain person. But in any event she is in my way. 1 wish to have a further talk with her uncle. There fore you will oblige me by conducting her one side, and I recommend the after part of the quarter-deck, on the larboard side, which is in shadow." THE END. niMinarck'n Experience. Bismarck was one day in company where among other things the subject of how much it cost to gain experience in life cropped up. He kept Giient for a time, but presently joined in the con versation and said: "Fools pretend that you can only gain experience at j-our own expense, but I have always managed to learn at the expense of others."—Detroit Free Press. Merely Preliminary. "Well, Louise, Where's your new hat?" "I haven't any new hat." "Why, you said you were going down town to-day to get a new hat." "Arthur, you never hear anything straight; I said I was going downtown to-day to look at new hats."—Chicago Daily Record. Time lie U'li Hurled. "Please, sir," said the energetic office boy to the active member of th« firm. "I wants ter get off this afternoon. Me grandfather's dead." "Is that so, James? When did he die?" "About five years ago, sir."—N. Y. World. The licit lit of Cruelty. Benedict—A man out west has been severely punished for having five wives. Bachelor—What! You don't.mean to say that he was compelled to live with all of 'em?—Yonkers Statesman. A RARE INSTANCE. An I'nuiaal Experience Wblck th« Bicycle Dealer Wonlil Like to Have Repeutcd. A heavy man with & square jaw walked into a bicycle exchange the other after noon. The proprietor advanced to wait on him. "Gimme a bike," Baid the square-jawed man. "To buy?" "Yep." "What make?" "Any old make." "Here's our specialty—good machine." "All right, is it?" "Good as any made." "How muph?" "Fifty." "Dab a little graphite on the chain and pump her up." The proprietor dabbed a little graphite on the chain and pumped her up. The square jawed man pulled out a wad of the size of his wrist, skinned off a fifty and handed it to the proprietor. Then he ran the machine out to the curb, got on it and rode off. When the proprietor got over being stunned he went to three or four friends on the block to get their opinion as to whether the SSO was counterfeit or the real thing. The bill was genuine, and the proprietor has been more or less dazed ever since. "I can't understand such swift action as that in the bike business," he says, with a puzzled air.—Washington Post. Looki All flight. "Doesn't the bicycle make you feel younger?" asked the expert. "\V ell, I won't exactly say that," replied the elderly novice, "but it certainly makes me look younger." "How is that?" "Why, to sail through space as I occa sionally do Certainly gives the appearance of youthful activity, no matter how I may feel about it."—Buffalo News. College gradua.es and thermometers ars marked by degrees.—Chicago Daily News. Scaly Blotchy Humors Instantly Relieved and Cured by The itching and burning I suffered in my feet and limbs for tiiree years Were terrible. At night they were worse and would keep me awake a ITCHING greater part of the night. I consulted doctor after doctor, ■ I Jl/t CIC a 9 * was travelling ou the road most of my time, also one LliYltjb 0 f our city doctors. None of the doctors knew what the trouble was. I got a lot of the different samples of the medicines I had been using. I found them of so many different kinds that I concluded I would have togo to a Cincinnati hospital before I would get relief. I had fre quently been urged to try CUTICURA REMEDIES, but I had no faith in them. My wife finally prevailed upon me to try them. Presto! What a change! lam now cured, and it is a permanent cure. I feel like kicking some doctor or myself for suffering three years when I could have used CUTICURA remedies. H. JENKINS, Middleboro, Ky. Speedy Cure Treatment Bathe, the. affected parts with IIOT water and CUTICURA SOAP to cleanse the, skin and scalp of crusts and scales, and soften the thickened cuticle. Dry, without hard rubbing, and apply CUTICURA Ointment freely, to allay itching, irritation, and inflammation, and soothe and heal, and lastly take CUTICURA RESOL VENT to cool and cleanse the blood. This sweet »i;tx tvliolesome treatment affords instant relief, permits rest and sloep in the a-"—rest forms of eczema and other itching, burning, and scaly humors of the sKin, scalp, and blood, and points to a speedy, permanent, and economical cure when all other remedies and even the best physicians fail. Price. THE SKT, 112 1.25 ; or, KOAP, 25E„, 50C„ mnd U*SOLT*NT (LI»lf size) JOr Sold throughout the world. POTTEK DRUG AND CHW. COW., Sole Prop!., iioetoo, llau. " ii#w to Cure Itchisgi Scaly Uvmori," mailed free. OZARK AGRICULTURE. Hon Farmers I'rnrtlcr Hotntloa off Crop* In That Prolific Region. Ozark humor appreciates the story that a scientist was quite amazed t!ie other day at observing a fanner, after killing a nest of snakes turned up by the plow, arrange the dead snakes in the furrow before he went back to the plow. "Why did you do that, my good man?" the scientist asked. The farmer looked curiously at the ■dentist, and, seeing that he was really m search of information, replied: "I do that so the pl>w will cover the sr.akes on the next round." Seeing that the scientist was still mysti fied, the farmer continued: '"I Cu\<!' the snakes so that they will de compose. That is what you call it, isn't it'!" ") es?" said the scientist, with a rising in flection. "Well," continued the farmer, "the de composition of animal matter furnishea nourishment, for plant life, I believe?" "Yes?" again said the scientist. "Then, snakes will make corn grow, won't they?" triumphantly asked the farmer. "Yes?" said the scientist. "And more corn will make more whisky, won|t it?" said the farmer. "Yes," said the scientist. "And whisky will make more snakes, won't it? Mister, that is what we call rota tion in the agriculture of this region."—fc>t. Louis Globe-Democrat. They "Were l"p-to-Date. Totsie McFadden—Say, we is disappoint ed. Do las' chapter of "dis book says aat da beautiful heroeen lived to be an old woman and was highly respected. We don't want nothink about no old woman. Wat w» wants is de new woman, an' if youse can't give us somethink about de new woman, giva us our nickel back and we'll buy ehestnuta. See?—Washington Post. One who has a mind to think will sooa have a thinking mind.—Ram's Horn.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers