Meanwhile, the three prisoners on the island were passing their time dismally enough. There was actually nothing for them to do except to seek enough of the produce of the island to sustain life.
This they were able to do, but they soon tired of their monotonous bill of fare.
“I would give something for a good New England breakfast,” said Abner Titcomb, one morning.
“Baked beans and brown bread?” suggested Guy, with a smile.
“Yes; or fishcakes, rolls, and coffee—anything substantial, instead of these sweet, cloying fruits.”
“I think I agree with you, Abner,” said Guy.
“I am sure I do,” added Luke Clark.
It may seem strange that they had never made a second visit to the place where the treasure was concealed; but it had lost its attractions for them.
They did not even speculate as to its value. It was absolutely worthless to them in their present condition.
They spent most of their time on the summit of the hill, looking out to sea in search of a ship. They felt that the Osprey would be sent back for them, but it was long to wait. If they could get off sooner, so much the better.
Abner Titcomb had a marine glass with him, and this helped them.
Once with his glass he espied a ship, a mere speck in the distance, and there was hope that it would come nearer the island.
They tried to signal it, but it was too far away, and no heed was paid to the white sailcloth that they hoisted above the hill on a branch of a tree. This was a severe disappointment.
“John Wolf was here four years without signaling a sail,” said Luke Clark, in a tone of discouragement. “There seems to be little hope for us.”
So day followed day, and each one seemed longer than the last.
They liked to sit and talk of their New England homes, and all that made them attractive. They tried to fancy how those who were dear to them were occupied.
“My father is writing his sermon for Sunday,” Guy would say on a Saturday morning. “What would he think if he could know where I am?”
“It is well he doesn’t know, since he could do you no good,” rejoined Titcomb.
“Yes; it would only make the dear old man unhappy. I don’t want him to know it till he also knows that I am safe.”
“How long is it since we were left here?” asked Luke Clark. “Have you kept the record?”
“Yes, this is the seventeenth day.”
“And we are still alive! Well that’s a comfort, any way.”
Abner Titcomb had been using his glass.
“Boys!” he said, suddenly, in a tone of excitement, “I see a sail!”
“Where?” exclaimed Guy and Luke Clark together.
Titcomb pointed in a direction east by south.
“Look again! Notice if it seems to be approaching the island.”
There was silence for five minutes.
“Yes,” he said, “it seems to be coming toward us. Here, Guy, your eyes are better than mine; take the glass, and see whether I am right.”
Guy took the glass and turned it in the direction of the ship.
“Abner! Luke!” he said, in a tremulous voice. “I think it looks like the Osprey.”
“Give me the glass—quick!” said Luke.
He took a long look seaward.
“Well, well! What do you make out?” asked Abner.
“I think Guy is right. It does look like the Osprey.”
“But it can’t be! There has not been time for her to go to Bombay and return.”
This was evident, and they felt that they could not be correct.
But half an hour later it was clear that the ship was steering for the island. An hour later all were sure that it was the Osprey.
“Let us raise our signal and then go down to the beach,” said Guy.
His suggestion was followed. Leaving the signal on the summit of the hill, they made their way downward, through the belt of woods, to the shore.
Still one or another looked through the glass until doubt became certainty, and the familiar form of the Osprey was clearly to be seen.
“Thank God!” said Titcomb, fervently.
No sooner was the Osprey near enough than a boat was lowered. Among those it bore were Forbush and Frank Low.
As they landed, the three prisoners rushed joyfully to greet them.
“Then Captain Richmond relented?” said Guy. “He repented of his inhuman course?”
“Captain Richmond is dead,” said Frank Low, gravely. “Mr. Forbush is now captain.”
“But how did he die? Was he stricken with disease?”
“He fell a victim to his brutality. He was stabbed to the heart by Leporelli, whom he had abused.”
It was Captain Forbush who said this.
“As soon as I took command I ordered the ship’s course to be reversed, and I came here in search of you. I will give you a reasonable time to find the treasure.”
“Captain Forbush, the treasure is found!” said Guy. “To-morrow I will ask you to lend me the assistance of two of your sailors to carry it on board the Osprey.”
“You shall have it,” said the captain, promptly. “I congratulate you, Guy, on your success.”
John Saunders sat in his office in Bombay. Before him lay a letter from his New York correspondent, Gilbert Frazer.
It ran thus:
I have had a call from a boy of sixteen, Guy Fenwick, who showed credentials from you, and appears to have been intrusted with an extraordinary commission. I complied with your instructions and supplied him with the money he called for, as per account inclosed. I hope I have done right. It seemed singular to me that you should have employed as your confidential agent a boy so young. I hope you will excuse the liberty I take in referring to this.
There was more of the same tenor.
Mr. Saunders read the note with a complacent smile.
“I have no doubt Frazer was very much surprised,” he said to himself. “Indeed, I should myself have been surprised had anyone told me a year since that I would have so far trusted so young an agent. But Guy Fenwick is an extraordinary boy, and I still feel that I have made no mistake.
“To be sure,” he added, after a pause, “this expedition in search of the pirates’ treasure may be foolish, but even on that I reserve my decision. I shall be interested to hear how Guy makes out.”
He was interrupted by the opening of the office door and the sudden entrance of the boy who had been occupying his thoughts.
“Guy Fenwick!” he exclaimed, in a tone of evident pleasure.
“Yes, Mr. Saunders,” said Guy, with a smile. “Didn’t you expect to see me again?”
“Not so soon. What have you to report? Did you find the island?”
“Yes, sir; and that was not all.”
“You don’t mean to say that you have found the treasure?”
“Yes, I do. It is at the door, in charge of three men, and with your permission I will have it brought in.”
Without waiting for an answer Guy gave a signal, and three strong men carried in the sailor’s chest which had been unearthed at the island. Guy dismissed the men, and then, unlocking the chest, threw it open, disclosing the treasure.
The merchant was dazzled.
“This is wonderful!” he ejaculated.
“Now, Mr. Saunders,” said Guy, “I have fulfilled my part of the contract. I will leave the treasure with you.”
“I will have it appraised and render an account to you, Guy. You will dine with me?”
“Thank you, sir; but in the meantime, as I have been confined so long on shipboard, I will go out and take a walk.”
It was three days before the examination and appraisal were completed. Then Mr. Saunders announced to his young agent that the value of the treasure was fifty thousand pounds, or two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
“Of this,” he said, “your share is one-half, or one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“But, sir, you advanced me a thousand pounds!”
“I shall make no account of that. You deserve a full half as a reward for your energy and enterprise.”
“And I am really worth over a hundred thousand dollars?” said Guy, hardly able to realize his good fortune.
“Yes; and if you choose to stay with me I will employ you at a liberal salary.”
“Thank you, Mr. Saunders; but I would like a year’s vacation. I want to go home and gladden my father with the good news.”
“Certainly. That is only reasonable.”
The Osprey, on its return voyage, carried Guy and his two assistants as passengers.
He divided ten thousand dollars between Abner Titcomb, Luke Clark, and Captain Forbush, feeling that he was under special obligations to all three, and that he would still be left as rich as he could reasonably desire.
In Bayport, things were moving on as usual. From week to week the Rev. Mr. Fenwick appeared in the pulpit of the village church, and officiated to the satisfaction of all but a small minority of the parish.
For there were a few malcontents, headed by Deacon Crane, who had not yet lost the hope of seeing the pulpit filled by his cousin, who, not being popular, had been unemployed more than half the time during the past year.
The deacon went about and dropped disparaging remarks about Mr. Fenwick, but they did not bear fruit. To his chagrin, he found that very few cared for a change.
He was perplexed, but none the less determined to bring about his desires.
To facilitate his purpose, he informed the treasurer of the parish that he should reduce by one-half his subscription to the parish expenses.
“Why is this, Deacon Crane?” asked the treasurer. “Are you getting poor?”
“No, Brother Jones; but I ain’t exactly satisfied with our pastor.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t seem to get much spiritooal refreshment from his sermons.”
“The rest of the congregation do, and they are to be considered.”
The deacon had nothing to say in reply, but he stayed at home the next Sunday.
One reason for his dissatisfaction came from a letter he had received from his clerical relative, asking for the loan of one hundred dollars.
“I can’t lend you the money,” he replied; “but if I can get the parish to dismiss Mr. Fenwick, I will try to get you in his place.”
It was while the deacon was exercised in this way that his son Noah ran into the store one afternoon and exclaimed: “Who do you think has just gone past the store?”
“You had better tell me, Noah. I can’t waste my time in guessing.”
“It was the minister’s son, Guy.”
Deacon Crane pricked up his ears.
“How did he look?”
“He’s probably lost his place, and come home to live on his father.”
“Shouldn’t be a bit surprised, dad.”
“Noah,” said the deacon, much shocked, “never call me dad again! It isn’t respectful!”
“All right, father. You’d better call at the minister’s and find out what brings Guy home this time.”
“I think I may have occasion to call this evening,” replied the deacon.
Meanwhile we will follow Guy home.
His father was overjoyed to see his son back again, for he was deeply attached to his only child.
After the first greetings were over, Guy said: “You don’t ask me whether I am still at work for Mr. Saunders.”
“I thought you would tell me in due time, Guy. Now I can only think with joy of your return.”
“Well, father, I mean to stay at home, or at least near home, for a year. Mr. Saunders has given me a vacation of twelve months.”
“Doubtless, my son, you can find some employment here, since he will not need you for a year.”
Guy smiled.
“There is no reason to worry about that, father,” he said. “How are you getting on with Deacon Crane?”
“I think, Guy, he would prefer to have a younger man in my place. It makes me feel that I am growing old.”
“Pooh, father! You are only fifty-two. But, tell me, did you not at one time think of writing a commentary on the Gospels?”
“Yes, Guy; but my sermon writing takes all my time.”
“Then why not apply to the parish to give you a young man as a colleague?”
“The parish cannot afford to pay two salaries.”
“Then you might offer to serve as senior pastor without salary.”
“But, Guy, how am I to live?”
“What salary does the parish pay you now?”
“A thousand dollars.”
“Very well, father, ask for an assistant, and I will pay you twelve hundred dollars a year.”
“I suppose you are joking, Guy.”
“Not at all. I am in earnest.”
“But where are you to get the money?” asked Mr. Fenwick, looking at his son in bewilderment.
“I must tell you, father, that I am worth over a hundred thousand dollars.”
“If you had not always been truthful, Guy, I should think that you were trying to deceive me.”
Then Guy explained. The explanation was, to his father, a marvelous one, and he had many questions to ask.
“Now, father,” Guy concluded, “I will alter the terms of my proposal. I will make over to you outright the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars, and you can invest it so as to produce a good income.”
Finally, Mr. Fenwick accepted his son’s proposal, and agreed to communicate with the parish.
That same evening Deacon Crane tapped at the door and was admitted. Guy was at home, and sat demurely in his father’s study.
“So you’ve got home, have you, Guy?” was his greeting, preceded by a cough. “Noah told me he saw you go by the store.”
“Yes; Noah is a great friend of mine,” returned Guy, with a smile. “I hope he is well.”
“Yes; I am thankful to say he is. He’s a good stiddy boy, Noah is; he don’t go gadding about all over the world.”
“Like me?” suggested Guy, with a smile.
The deacon coughed, but did not disclaim the amendment.
“Have you lost your place?” he asked.
“Mr. Saunders has given me a year’s vacation,” answered Guy.
“Humph!” said the deacon. “That’s rather hard on you. You may find it difficult to get a place round here.”
“I shall not try for one. I am going to stay at home with father part of the time.”
“You’re pretty young to retire from business,” sneered the deacon.
“I shall be glad to have Noah call on me.”
“I don’t approve of Noah bein’ idle. He’s helpin’ me in the store, out of school.”
“By the way, Deacon Crane,” said the minister, who was enjoying in his quiet way the deacon’s misunderstanding, “I am glad you called in. I want to consult you about church matters. Guy wants me to ask for a younger man to share with me the responsibilities of parish work, as a colleague.”
“Mr. Fenwick,” said the deacon, greatly surprised, “you must be aware that the parish cannot afford to pay two ministers. As it is, we are cramped by our agreement to pay you a thousand dollars.”
“For that reason I propose to relinquish my own salary. There will be but one salary to pay.”
“But,” said the deacon, inexpressibly surprised, “how are you going to live?”
“Perhaps I ought to mention that a relative has given me twenty-five thousand dollars. I can live on the income arising from that.”
Deacon Crane looked at the minister with greatly increased respect, for he set high value on worldly prosperity.
“Why, that makes you a rich man, Mr. Fenwick,” he said.
“Indeed, I feel so.”
“But I didn’t know you had any rich relatives.”
“Nor I, till to-day.”
“Do you mind telling me who has given you this handsome fortune?”
“Guy,” answered the minister, briefly.
“I didn’t come here to be made a fool of!” said the deacon, angrily, half rising in his chair.
“No one has tried to make a fool of you,” returned Guy, quickly. “I have been very fortunate, and can well afford to give my father twenty-five thousand dollars. He is anxious to get time to write a commentary on the Gospels, and so I have induced him to ask for a colleague.”
“Is this really true, Guy?”
“You can rely upon it, Deacon Crane. Father may have occasion to consult you about the investment of his money.”
“I’ll be very glad to oblige him,” said the deacon, generously. “When will he come into possession of the amount?”
“I congratulate you heartily, Guy,” said the deacon, very cordially. “I always thought you were a smart boy.”
“I am sorry you don’t want Noah to come to see me. I have brought him a gold watch from New York.”
“I’ll send him right over,” said the deacon, briskly. “He thinks a sight of you.”
“I am glad to hear that. I shall always be glad to do him a good turn.”
“I guess I must be goin’,” said the deacon, who was anxious to spread the wonderful news.
“Well, father, did you see Guy?” asked Noah, when his father entered the store.
“Yes, I did.”
“Is he out of work?”
“He needn’t work any more as long as he lives,” said the deacon, solemnly. “Guy’s come home with a fortune. He’s just given his father twenty-five thousand dollars.”
Noah listened with eyes and mouth wide open.
“Do tell, pa!” he said.
“Yes. Guy’s an awfully smart boy. He’s brought home a gold watch for you, Noah, and he’ll give it to you when you go over.”
“I’ll go right over, pa.”
“And I am willin’ you should be with him as much as he wishes. Take my advice, Noah, and make him your intimate friend.”
“You bet I will, pa!”
“Don’t use that expression, Noah! Remember you are a deacon’s son.”
In a few weeks the changes already hinted at were effected. Mr. Fenwick was provided with a colleague, but not the deacon’s relative, and had begun work on his commentary.
At the end of a year Guy entered the office of the New York correspondent of John Saunders, whom he will eventually succeed. He makes a good business man, and Mr. Saunders has never had occasion to regret the interest he has taken in the young American.
THE END
BOY AVIATORS’ SERIES
By Captain Wilbur Lawton
Absolutely Modern Stories for Boys
Cloth Bound Price, 50c per volume
The Boy Aviators in Nicaragua
Or, Leagued With Insurgents
The launching of this Twentieth Century series marks the inauguration of a new era in boys’ books—the “wonders of modern science” epoch. Frank and Harry Chester, the Boy Aviators, are the heroes of this exciting, red-blooded tale of adventure by air and land in the turbulent Central American republic. The two brothers with their $10,000 prize aeroplane, the Golden Eagle, rescue a chum from death in the clutches of the Nicaraguans, discover a lost treasure valley of the ancient Toltec race, and in so doing almost lose their own lives in the Abyss of the White Serpents, and have many other exciting experiences, including being blown far out to sea in their air-skimmer in a tropical storm. It would be unfair to divulge the part that wireless plays in rescuing them from their predicament. In a brand new field of fiction for boys the Chester brothers and their aeroplane seem destined to fill a top-notch place. These books are technically correct, wholesomely thrilling and geared up to third speed.
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BOY AVIATORS’ SERIES
By Captain Wilbur Lawton
Absolutely Modern Stories for Boys
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The Boy Aviators on Secret Service
Or, Working With Wireless
In this live-wire narrative of peril and adventure, laid in the Everglades of Florida, the spunky Chester Boys and their interesting chums, including Ben Stubbs, the maroon, encounter exciting experiences on Uncle Sam’s service in a novel field. One must read this vivid, enthralling story of incident, hardship and pluck to get an idea of the almost limitless possibilities of the two greatest inventions of modern times—the aeroplane and wireless telegraphy. While gripping and holding the reader’s breathless attention from the opening words to the finish, this swift-moving story is at the same time instructive and uplifting. As those readers who have already made friends with Frank and Harry Chester and their “bunch” know, there are few difficulties, no matter how insurmountable they may seem at first blush, that these up-to-date gritty youths cannot overcome with flying colors. A clean-cut, real boys’ book of high voltage.
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BOY AVIATORS’ SERIES
BY CAPTAIN WILBUR LAWTON
Absolutely Modern Stories for Boys
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The Boy Aviators in Africa
Or, An Aerial Ivory Trail
In this absorbing book we meet, on a Continent made famous by the American explorer Stanley, and ex-President Roosevelt, our old friends, the Chester Boys and their stalwart chums. In Africa—the Dark Continent—the author follows in exciting detail his young heroes, their voyage in the first aeroplane to fly above the mysterious forests and unexplored ranges of the mystic land. In this book, too, for the first time, we entertain Luther Barr, the old New York millionaire, who proved later such an implacable enemy of the boys. The story of his defeated schemes, of the astonishing things the boys discovered in the Mountains of the Moon, of the pathetic fate of George Desmond, the emulator of Stanley, the adventure of the Flying Men and the discovery of the Arabian Ivory cache,—this is not the place to speak. It would be spoiling the zest of an exciting tale to reveal the outcome of all these episodes here. It may be said, however, without “giving away” any of the thrilling chapters of this narrative, that Captain Wilbur Lawton, the author, is in it in his best vein, and from his personal experiences in Africa has been able to supply a striking background for the adventures of his young heroes. As one newspaper says of this book: “Here is adventure in good measure, pressed down and running over.”
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BOY AVIATORS’ SERIES
BY CAPTAIN WILBUR LAWTON
Absolutely Modern Stories for Boys
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The Boy Aviators Treasure Quest
Or, The Golden Galleon
Everybody is a boy once more when it comes to the question of hidden treasure. In this book, Captain Lawton has set forth a hunt for gold that is concealed neither under the sea nor beneath the earth, but is well hidden for all that. A garrulous old sailor, who holds the key to the mystery of the Golden Galleon, plays a large part in the development of the plot of this fascinating narrative of treasure hunting in the region of the Gulf Stream and the Sagasso Sea. An aeroplane fitted with efficient pontoons—enabling her to skim the water successfully—has long been a dream of aviators. The Chester Boys seem to have solved the problem. The Sagasso, that strange drifting ocean within an ocean, holding ships of a dozen nations and a score of ages, in its relentless grip, has been the subject of many books of adventure and mystery, but in none has the secret of the ever shifting mass of treacherous currents been penetrated as it has in the BOY AVIATORS TREASURE QUEST. Luther Barr, whom it seemed the boys had shaken off, is still on their trail, in this absorbing book and with a dirigible balloon, essays to beat them out in their search for the Golden Galleon. Every boy, every man—and woman and girl—who has ever felt the stirring summons of adventure in their souls, had better get hold of this book. Once obtained, it will be read and re-read till it falls to rags.
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BOY AVIATORS’ SERIES
BY CAPTAIN WILBUR LAWTON
Absolutely Modern Stories for Boys
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The Boy Aviators in Record Flight
Or, The Rival Aeroplane
The Chester Boys in new field of endeavor—an attempt to capture a newspaper prize for a trans-continental flight. By the time these lines are read, exactly such an offer will have been spread broadcast by one of the foremost newspapers of the country. In the Golden Eagle, the boys, accompanied by a trail-blazing party in an automobile, make the dash. But they are not alone in their aspirations. Their rivals for the rich prize at stake try in every way that they can to circumvent the lads and gain the valuable trophy and monetary award. In this they stop short at nothing, and it takes all the wits and resources of the Boy Aviators to defeat their devices. Among the adventures encountered in their cross-country flight, the boys fall in with a band of rollicking cow-boys—who momentarily threaten serious trouble—are attacked by Indians, strike the most remarkable town of the desert—the “dry” town of “Gow Wells,” encounter a sandstorm which blows them into strange lands far to the south of their course, and meet with several amusing mishaps beside. A thoroughly readable book. The sort to take out behind the barn on the sunny side of the haystack, and, with a pocketful of juicy apples and your heels kicking the air, pass happy hours with Captain Lawton’s young heroes.
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BOY AVIATORS’ SERIES
BY CAPTAIN WILBUR LAWTON
Absolutely Modern Stories for Boys
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The Boy Aviators Polar Dash
Or, Facing Death in the Antarctic
If you were to hear that two boys, accompanying a South Polar expedition in charge of the aeronautic department, were to penetrate the Antarctic regions—hitherto only attained by a few daring explorers—you would feel interested, wouldn’t you? Well, in Captain Lawton’s latest book, concerning his Boy Aviators, you can not only read absorbing adventure in the regions south of the eightieth parallel, but absorb much useful information as well. Captain Lawton introduces—besides the original characters of the heroes—a new creation in the person of Professor Simeon Sandburr, a patient seeker for polar insects. The professor’s adventures in his quest are the cause of much merriment, and lead once or twice to serious predicaments. In a volume so packed with incident and peril from cover to cover—relieved with laughable mishaps to the professor—it is difficult to single out any one feature; still, a recent reader of it wrote the publishers an enthusiastic letter the other day, saying: “The episodes above the Great Barrier are thrilling, the attack of the condors in Patagonia made me hold my breath, the—but what’s the use? The Polar Dash, to my mind, is an even more entrancing book than Captain Lawton’s previous efforts, and that’s saying a good deal. The aviation features and their technical correctness are by no means the least attractive features of this up-to-date creditable volume.”
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OAKDALE ACADEMY SERIES
Stories of Modern School Sports
By MORGAN SCOTT.
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BEN STONE AT OAKDALE.
Under peculiarly trying circumstances Ben Stone wins his way at Oakdale Academy, and at the same time enlists our sympathy, interest and respect. Through the enmity of Bern Hayden, the loyalty of Roger Eliot and the clever work of the “Sleuth.” Ben is falsely accused, championed and vindicated.
BOYS OF OAKDALE
ACADEMY.
“One thing I will claim, and that is that all Grants fight open and square and there never was a sneak among them.” It was Rodney Grant, of Texas, who made the claim to his friend, Ben Stone, and this story shows how he proved the truth of this statement in the face of apparent evidence to the contrary.
RIVAL PITCHERS OF OAKDALE.
Baseball is the main theme of this interesting narrative, and that means not only clear and clever descriptions of thrilling games, but an intimate acquaintance with the members of the teams who played them. The Oakdale Boys were ambitious and loyal, and some were even disgruntled and jealous, but earnest, persistent work won out.
OAKDALE BOYS IN CAMP.
The typical vacation is the one that means much freedom, little restriction, and immediate contact with “all outdoors.” These conditions prevailed in the summer camp of the Oakdale Boys and made it a scene of lively interest.
THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY.
The “Sleuth” scents a mystery! He “follows his nose.” The plot thickens! He makes deductions. There are surprises for the reader—and for the “Sleuth,” as well.
NEW BOYS AT OAKDALE.
A new element creeps into Oakdale with another year’s registration of students. The old and the new standards of conduct in and out of school meet, battle, and cause sweeping changes in the lives of several of the boys.
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BORDER BOYS SERIES
Mexican and Canadian Frontier Series
By FREMONT B. DEERING.
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THE BORDER BOYS
ON THE TRAIL
What it meant to make an enemy of Black Ramon De Barios—that is the problem that Jack Merrill and his friends, including Coyote Pete, face in this exciting tale.
THE BORDER BOYS
ACROSS THE FRONTIER.
Read of the Haunted Mesa and its mysteries, of the Subterranean River and its strange uses, of the value of gasolene and steam “in running the gauntlet,” and you will feel that not even the ancient splendors of the Old World can furnish a better setting for romantic action than the Border of the New.
THE BORDER BOYS WITH THE MEXICAN RANGERS.
As every day is making history—faster, it is said, than ever before—so books that keep pace with the changes are full of rapid action and accurate facts. This book deals with lively times on the Mexican border.
THE BORDER BOYS WITH THE TEXAS RANGERS.
The Border Boys have already had much excitement and adventure in their lives, but all this has served to prepare them for the experiences related in this volume. They are stronger, braver and more resourceful than ever, and the exigencies of their life in connection with the Texas Rangers demand all their trained ability.
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BOY INVENTORS SERIES
Stories of Skill and Ingenuity
By RICHARD BONNER
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THE BOY INVENTORS’
WIRELESS TELEGRAPH.
Blest with natural curiosity,—sometimes called the instinct of investigation,—favored with golden opportunity, and gifted with creative ability, the Boy Inventors meet emergencies and contrive mechanical wonders that interest and convince the reader because they always “work” when put to the test.
THE BOY INVENTORS’ VANISHING GUN.
A thought, a belief, an experiment; discouragement, hope, effort and final success—this is the history of many an invention; a history in which excitement, competition, danger, despair and persistence figure. This merely suggests the circumstances which draw the daring Boy Inventors into strange experiences and startling adventures, and which demonstrate the practical use of their vanishing gun.
THE BOY INVENTORS’ DIVING TORPEDO BOAT.
As in the previous stories of the Boy Inventors, new and interesting triumphs of mechanism are produced which become immediately valuable, and the stage for their proving and testing is again the water. On the surface and below it, the boys have jolly, contagious fun, and the story of their serious, purposeful inventions challenge the reader’s deepest attention.
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BUNGALOW BOYS SERIES
LIVE STORIES OF OUTDOOR LIFE
By DEXTER J. FORRESTER.
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THE BUNGALOW BOYS.
How the Bungalow Boys received their title and how they retained the right to it in spite of much opposition makes a lively narrative for lively boys.
THE BUNGALOW BOYS MAROONED IN THE TROPICS.
A real treasure hunt of the most thrilling kind, with a sunken Spanish galleon as its object, makes a subject of intense interest at any time, but add to that a band of desperate men, a dark plot and a devil fish, and you have the combination that brings strange adventures into the lives of the Bungalow Boys.
THE BUNGALOW BOYS IN THE GREAT NORTH WEST.
The clever assistance of a young detective saves the boys from the clutches of Chinese smugglers, of whose nefarious trade they know too much. How the Professor’s invention relieves a critical situation is also an exciting incident of this book.
THE BUNGALOW BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES.
The Bungalow Boys start out for a quiet cruise on the Great Lakes and a visit to an island. A storm and a band of wreckers interfere with the serenity of their trip, and a submarine adds zest and adventure to it.
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DREADNOUGHT BOYS SERIES
Tales of the New Navy
By CAPT. WILBUR LAWTON
Author of “BOY AVIATORS SERIES.”
Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid
THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ON BATTLE PRACTICE.