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Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
 "Do!" replied Robert. "It'll take up the time."
"No," answered the tramp, suspiciously. "I don't care to have you
inform against me, but I want you to remember that I am a
desperate man."
"I'll take it for granted. I don't want to fall into the hands of such
a man."
The tramp hunted about for a stone to throw at the boy, but in
that part of the West stones are not as plenty as in New England,
and his kind intentions were frustrated.
"Perhaps you think I'll go away after a while," he said presently,
"but that's where you make a mistake. I will stay here all night, if
necessary."
He looked as if he would really carry out his threat, and Robert,
it must be admitted, in spite of his coolness of demeanor, began to
feel anxious.
"What an obstinate ruffian!" he thought. "If he keeps his word, it
will be decidedly uncomfortable for me."
"Will no one come along?"
That was the thought that kept recurring to him. It seemed to
offer the only means of escape.
At last he heard wheels, and was thankful. So did the tramp, and
felt uneasy. But when the carriage came along it turned out to
contain a woman and young boy. It would do no good to hail them,
for they could not help him, and the tramp might be led to attack
and rob them. So Robert was constrained to let the carriage pass,
and to find himself once more in solitude with the tramp.
"You did well not to speak," said the latter, grimly. "If you had I
would have robbed her, too."
"Just what I thought," returned Robert. "That seems to be your
business."
 "Don't be impudent, boy!"
"Isn't it the truth?"
"Come down and you'll find out."
"I know well enough already."
Another half hour passed, and no one came by. At last the two
heard a sound and a man whistling; the same seemed approaching.
"I hope it's a strong, able-bodied man," thought Robert.
When at length the man came in sight, a great tide of joy swept
over him. It was the very man whose presence he would have
desired above all others. It was Hercules, who had at one time been
employed in the same circus with himself, to perform feats of
strength.
 CHAPTER XXXI.
HERCULES—THE STRONG MAN.

"H ERCULES!" cried Robert, joyfully, from his perch in the tree.
Hercules paused and looked about in surprise, for he saw
no one except an ill-looking tramp, who, he was sure, had not
spoken to him. He thought he recognized the voice, but was not
certain.
"Who is it calls me?" he asked. "Where are you?"
"Here, in this tree."
Then Hercules espied our hero and recognized him.
"Robert Rudd," he cried, in mingled surprise and joy.
"Yes, it is I."
"What are you doing here? I had no idea of seeing you here."
"Nor I you; but I am glad you came along."
"Why are you up there?"
"Because the gentleman below insists upon my giving him my
money, and I have a use for it myself."
"Ha!" said Hercules, eying the besieging force narrowly. "Well,
he looks like a thief and a scoundrel."
Meantime, as may readily be imagined, the tramp had been
busily scanning him. Now the appearance of Hercules was very
deceptive. He was not a man of large, powerful frame—indeed he
did not look as strong as the tramp; but his sinews were of iron and
his muscles were immense, but these were concealed by his
clothing. Only in the ring, when he performed his feats of strength,
were they displayed to advantage. The tramp was not a classical
scholar, or the name Hercules might have told him something. As it
were he really thought himself the more powerful man of the two,
and it came into his mind that he might as well enlarge his schemes
of plunder and force this new acquaintance to pay tribute as well as
the boy whom he was besieging.
"You call me a thief and a scoundrel, do you?" he said, flaming
up in fierce wrath.
"Yes, I do," returned Hercules, eying him coolly.
"How dare you do it?"
"Why shouldn't I?" said Hercules, contemptuously. "Didn't you
mean to rob this boy if I hadn't come along?"
"I will do it yet, but I have business with you first."
"What kind of business?"
"Empty your pockets, and don't be long about it," said the
tramp, approaching Hercules menacingly.
It had never occurred to Robert that the tramp would attempt
anything so absurd as to attack the professional champion, whose
name was famous for strength, and when he saw that such was his
intention he laughed aloud in amazement.
"Don't crow, young rooster!" cried the tramp, angrily. "I'll tackle
your friend first; your turn will come by and by."
"Oh, you want to have a tussle with me, do you?" said Hercules,
eying the other with a smile of amusement.
"Yes, I'll finish you up in short order," said the tramp, boastfully.
"Don't be afraid, Hercules!" cried Robert, with a laugh.
"I'll try not to. So you want me to hand over my money, do
you?" he said.
"Yes; and you'd better be quick about it, too," growled the
tramp.
 "Suppose I don't?"
"Then I'll whip you till you can't stand."
"This is better than any circus I ever attended," said Robert,
delighted.
"He'll think it's a circus before he gets through," said Hercules,
significantly. "Well, my ill-looking friend, I must inform you in the
outset that you are taking a good deal of trouble for a very little. My
stock of money is very low."
"I don't care; you can hand over what you've got."
"Or fight for it?"
"Yes," growled the tramp.
"I think I'll fight—a little friendly encounter. It's the custom to
shake hands first; will you do it?"
The tramp extended his hand, which Hercules at once grasped
with such an iron pressure that the tramp fairly danced and howled
with pain, while the veins swelled upon his forehead.
"Let go!" he yelled.
Hercules released his hand with a laugh.
"It's only a small lesson, my friend. Do you want my money
now?"
"Who are you?" asked the tramp, with the addition of an oath.
"I am Hercules, the strong man. You made a mistake when you
tackled me."
"I'm off, then," said the tramp.
"Not quite yet. You need a further lesson."
So saying, Hercules seized the tramp suddenly, raised him aloft,
threw him up in the air, and then hurled him to the distance of a
couple of rods, where he lay stunned for a minute or two.
 "Now clear out!" said Hercules sternly, as the rascal rose to his
feet and limped off. "I would give you in charge if it were not too
much trouble. Never let me set eyes on you again!"
"I won't if I can help it," muttered the tramp as he slunk away.
"Now, Robert, come down from the tree, and tell me all about
yourself."
Robert told his story, and asked Hercules for similar information.
"I've been to see a sister who lives near here," he said, "and
now am on my way back to North's circus, where I am engaged."
"Where are they?"
"At Athens."
"How far off is that?"
"Only ten miles."
"Is there anything for me?" asked Robert, eagerly. "I want to
work my way back to the East."
"They've got a rider—but I forgot, your doctor won't let you ride.
If you don't mind selling at the lemonade stand, there'll be a chance.
They've sent off the boy that worked for them the first of the
season. Young Ajax is with the circus, and others whom you know."
"I'll go."
The same night the two friends joined North's circus, and set out
on a leisurely return to the East.
 CHAPTER XXXII.
FITZGERALD'S DISAPPOINTMENT.

W E must now go back to Chestnutwood, where the old man,

Cornelius Richmond, though blessed with a large share of the
gifts of fortune, was passing his declining years in loneliness, with no
one of his kindred near him except his nephew, Hugo. For years
Hugo had been his constant companion; in manner, at least, he had
been devoted to his uncle, yet the old man had never been drawn to
him. Sometimes he reproached himself because he could not feel
more warmly towards his nephew.
"Hugo seems devoted to me," he said to himself. "Why is it that
I cannot thoroughly like him? It must be because my heart is in the
grave of my son Julian. Ah, if only his son were living, that I might
have my grandson with me. That boy whom I saw riding in the
circus—I could get to love him for his resemblance to my son; but
Hugo tells me he has lost all traces of him."
The simple old man little suspected that his crafty nephew had
taken effectual means to prevent his ever seeing any more of this
boy, towards whom he felt a yearning affection, for which we can
account, though he could not. Indeed, he was not a man to suspect
guile of any one, being in himself so guileless, and he really thought
that Hugo's attentions were dictated by genuine affection, instead of
selfish scheming for his uncle's wealth.
"You have heard nothing more about the boy, Hugo?" he asked
one morning.
"No, uncle," answered Hugo, suppressing an expression of
impatience.
"It is strange."
 "I am afraid you would be disappointed in him, even if we could
find him, and bring him here, Uncle Cornelius."
"No, I should not be disappointed, for I should not expect too
much. It would be a pleasure to look upon the boy's face, and think
my lost Julian was again before me."
"The old fool!" muttered Hugo under his breath. "Will he never
quit harping on that boy?"
"You must remember that he has been brought up in a circus,
amid very objectionable associations, uncle," he said aloud. "What
can be expected under such circumstances?"
"What is his name?"
"His circus name is Robert Rudd."
The old man repeated it softly to himself.
The same day he sent for a lawyer, and professed his intention
to modify his will.
Hugo was alarmed.
"Can he be going to leave anything to that boy?" he asked
himself.
He would have liked to have asked his uncle, but only contrived
to hint a question, to which the old man replied evasively. In reality,
he had appended a codicil to his will, bequeathing the sum of ten
thousand dollars "to the young circus rider, generally known as
Robert Rudd," and did not like to mention it to Hugo lest the latter
should remonstrate with him, and the old man felt too weak to
argue.
"There will be enough left for Hugo," he said to himself. "Ten
thousand dollars is but a small part of my property."
"It is very lucky," thought Hugo, "that I made arrangements with
Fitzgerald to dispose of the boy, in case my uncle has done anything
foolish in his will. It will save litigation and trouble."
 He looked at the old man—frail, feeble, apparently on the verge
of the grave—and reflected with impatience that as he looked now
he had looked for five years past. His hold on life was tenacious.
"Good heavens! He may live for five or ten years yet!" thought
Hugo. "He looks as if a breath would blow him away; yet he
encumbers the earth year after year, holding one in a detestable
slavery to his whims and caprices. I shall be an old man myself, or
almost one, before Chestnutwood falls into my possession; but when
it does"—and his eye flashed with hopeful anticipation, and he
walked with a prouder gait—"when it does I will live!"
One day Hugo was just getting ready for a solitary walk when
the servant announced, "A gentleman to see you, sir."
"A gentleman? What name?" asked Hugo.
"He said his name was Fitzgerald, sir."
"Fitzgerald?" exclaimed Hugo, his voice betraying the excitement
he felt. "Tell him I will be with him at once."
He entered the drawing-room, and Fitzgerald arose from a sofa
on which he had seated himself.
"Ah! Fitzgerald!" said Hugo, with assumed indifference.
"Yes, it is I. I have—"
"Hush! I am about to take a walk about the place. You can join
me, and whatever you have to say, you can say more freely as we
walk."
"Very well, sir; it is immaterial to me."
Hugo took his hat, and the two sauntered along the broad walk
till they reached a point at some distance from the mansion.
"Mr. Fitzgerald, what have you got to tell me?" asked Hugo
eagerly.
"The boy won't trouble you any more," answered Fitzgerald,
sententiously.
 "You mean—the circus rider?"
"Certainly; your young cousin."
"Hush!" said Hugo, angerly. "How dare you call him my cousin?"
"Because he was your cousin," said the other firmly. "He stood
between you and the property, and that is why you wanted me to
put him out of the way."
"I won't discuss that matter just now—I will simply ask you if
you mean to assure me that the boy is dead?"
"Yes."
"You can swear it?"
"Of course. He is at the bottom of a well in a distant Western
State, unless he has been fished out."
"He must have been very careless to fall in, whoever he was,"
said Hugo.
"Very much so!" said Fitzgerald mockingly.
"Well," said Hugo, philosophically, "he'd probably have met with
a violent death anyway. This bareback riding is dangerous."
"So it is; I saw him thrown from his horse in the ring at
Crampton."
"Indeed! Was he hurt?"
"Sprained his ankle—that was all. He had to retire from the ring
for the season. Then I offered him an engagement to travel with me
to the West."
"Indeed! Very kind of you!" said Hugo, indifferently. "Well, shall
we go back to the house?"
"Go back to the house!" repeated Fitzgerald, surprised. "Why, we
haven't transacted our business."
"Our business! Why, what business have I with you?"
 "I want pay for my work," answered Fitzgerald sharply.
"Your work! Really, I don't remember to have employed you,"
said Hugo with languid indifference.
"Can he mean to go back on his promise?" Fitzgerald asked
himself uncomfortably.
"You promised me $2000 down when I had done this job, and
$3000 more when you came into your inheritance," he said quickly.
Hugo, who was a man of consummate meanness, could not bear
to part with so large a sum of money. Now that he had obtained all
that he desired, and believed that his young cousin, the only
possible obstacle between him and his uncle's wealth, was out of the
way, he thought he might safely repudiate the bargain, and send off
Fitzgerald penniless, or at any rate with a trifle.
"You seem to be dreaming, or romancing," he said coldly.
"Do you mean to say you did not promise me the money?" he
demanded passionately.
"I never did; of course not. I have never had any dealings with
you."
Fitzgerald clenched his hand together until the nails entered the
flesh. Had he committed a detestable crime for nothing?
"Look here, Mr. Hugo Richmond," he said, passionately. "This
won't do! You are not going to use me and then throw me off. Pay
me this money, or I will report you."
"You had better reflect before you try it," said Hugo,
composedly. "I shall accuse you of black-mail, and your charge
would never be believed."
"Wouldn't it? You may find yourself bitterly mistaken."
"You must remember that in charging yourself with murder you
will run the risk of the hangman's rope. Even if the charge could do
me any harm you would probably lose your own life."
 This was no doubt true, and Fitzgerald stared at the man who
had tempted him to a crime and now threatened him with the
consequences while he held back the reward, with stupefaction.
"You see your plan won't work," said Hugo, smoothly.
"I believe you are a fiend incarnate!" exclaimed Fitzgerald,
feeling baffled and defeated.
"Really, I don't much care what you think of me."
"Do you mean to send me away penniless?" asked Fitzgerald,
hoarsely.
"No, I will take pity on your necessities and give you fifty dollars.
I don't recognize any claims you may pretend to have on me, but I
will help you so far."
"Give me the fifty dollars, then!" said Fitzgerald, sullenly.
Hugo drew from his wallet five ten-dollar bills, and handed them
to his companion.
"Now," said he, "I must wish you good morning. Don't come in
my way again!"
As Hugo walked back to the house Fitzgerald looked after him.
"This will prove a bad morning's work for you, Mr. Hugo
Richmond!" he muttered.
 CHAPTER XXXIII.
FITZGERALD SEES AN APPARITION.

A MONTH later North's circus had come as far on its Eastern trip as
Syracuse. Robert Rudd was still with it, and again was employed
in his old business of riding. The young rider regularly employed was
sick, and feeling that his ankle had become strong enough, Robert
had volunteered to take his place.
It so happened that Fitzgerald found himself in Syracuse at this
time. Fortune had smiled upon him. He had carried the fifty dollars
he received from Hugo Richmond to the gaming-table, and contrary
to the usual fortune in such cases had won steadily till he had a fund
of ten times the amount. Ordinarily he would have kept on, but now
he had a definite object in view, and this was to revenge himself
upon his faithless employer.
"Why was I such a fool as to harm the boy?" he had asked
himself more than once. "The cunning villain schemed to get me into
his power, and he has done so. I do not dare to expose him,
because in so doing I should risk my own life. Why did I not send
him out of the country merely, and then claim the reward?"
But the past could not be recalled, and though Fitzgerald heartily
wished the boy alive, he always thought of him as lying dead at the
bottom of a well in a far Western State. His busy brain was trying to
contrive some plan of revenge, when he chanced to see a poster of
North's circus. Robert's name was not on the bill, as he was only a
substitute, not the regular rider.
The performance had commenced when Fitzgerald entered.
He looked on with languid indifference till the time came for
Robert to enter the ring.
 When Fitzgerald saw the boy, whom he supposed to be dead,
riding in the ring, he was as much startled as if he had seen some
one arise from the dead. Could he be deceived? No. There could be
no such close resemblances between two boys as between the rider
and Robert Rudd.
"Yes, it is he!" decided Fitzgerald, and his heart was filled with
gladness. As we know, the gladness had a selfish source, but he was
certainly overjoyed to think that the boy was alive and well.
Robert went through his usual act with his usual grace, and
never suspected that his would-be murderer was looking on.
When the performance was over, Fitzgerald lingered near the
tents till he saw Robert come out. It was rather embarrassing to
disclose himself to the boy, who had so nearly fallen a victim to his
violence, but it must be done.
"Robert! Robert Rudd!" he said, touching the boy on the arm.
Robert turned, and his face became stern when he saw at his
side the man who had tried to murder him.
"You villain!" he said. "How have you the face to show yourself
to me?"
"Because," answered Fitzgerald, "I am prepared to make
atonement for the injury I did you. No one can be more delighted to
see you than I."
"How can I trust you after what has passed?" asked Robert,
suspiciously.
"Don't trust me till I show myself worthy of trust. I am prepared
to do more for you than any man living."
"What do you mean?"
"Suppose that I tell you who you are, that I restore you to your
relatives, that I secure for you the inheritance of a large estate,
would you consider that I am making atonement for my offence?"
 "Can you do this?" asked Robert, eagerly.
"I can," answered Fitzgerald.
"What are your terms, for I suppose that you do not work for
nothing?"
"I stipulate nothing. When I have succeeded and you come to
your own I will trust to your generosity. If that seems strange to
you, I don't mind telling you that I have a selfish motive. I wish to
revenge myself upon the man who occupies your place, and whom
you will disinherit."
"Will you give me fuller information?" asked Robert. "Will you let
me know who I am and how I came to lose my home?"
"Yes; I am prepared to tell you all. Come to the hotel where I
am staying, and after you have heard me we will concert together
plans for reinstating you."
 CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE MYSTERY OF ROBERT RUDD IS SOLVED.

H UGO RICHMOND was in good spirits. All seemed working in his

favor. He had got rid of Robert, the rightful heir, and escaped
paying Fitzgerald the money he had agreed to pay him. Now his
uncle, whose feeble hold on life had so long kept him from the
coveted inheritance, seemed getting weaker and weaker every day.
He was not positively sick, but he was sad and despondent; his
appetite had failed, and he was more thin and shadowy than ever.
The wicked nephew could hardly conceal his exultation as he
looked on the feeble old man, and calculated how few weeks he
probably had to live.
"Yes," he said to himself, "Chestnutwood will soon be mine. And
then—then I will take care to be repaid for the slavery of the last
eight years."
Old Mr. Richmond could not read the nephew's heart, nor did he
suspect his baseness. He thought him sincerely devoted to his
interests.
"A gentleman to see you, sir," announced the servant,
interrupting one of Hugo's day dreams.
"Who is it?"
"I don't know, sir; but I think he has been here before."
When Hugo entered the drawing-room and saw Fitzgerald, he
stopped short with a frown.
"You here?" he said.
"Yes, I am here," answered the other proudly.
 "You might as well have stayed away. If you think you can levy
any black-mail you are mistaken."
"I expect nothing of the kind."
"Probably you don't want any money?" said Hugo, sneering.
"Not from you," answered Fitzgerald, eying him steadily.
"You don't want money?" exclaimed Hugo, in genuine surprise.
"No, though I have no doubt you would be very glad to give me
a large sum."
"You are quite mistaken. I suspect you are drunk."
"That is where you are mistaken."
"What is your object in coming, then? Is this a friendly call?"
asked Hugo, with an evident sneer.
"Well, perhaps it may be so considered; I came to give you a
friendly warning."
"A warning?"
"Yes."
"I really can't conceive how I can need any warning from you.
What is your warning?"
"I warn you to leave the country as soon as it is in your power."
Hugo laughed scornfully.
"Thank you for nothing," he said; "why should I leave the
country?"
"Because you will otherwise be charged with instigating the
murder of your cousin, known as Robert Rudd."
"Humph! No one will credit it. Besides, you will have to admit
that you killed him."
"You are mistaken again. He is not dead."
 "Not dead?" echoed Hugo, turning pale and sinking into a seat.
"No, he is as much alive as you or I, but I am prepared to swear
that you hired me to kill him."
"Villain! you deceived me!" exclaimed Hugo, furiously.
"I feel less a villain than if I had compassed the boy's death."
Hugo reflected a moment. A gulf seemed to open before him,
and just as his uncle was nearing death all his schemes seemed in
danger of failure. This must be prevented at all hazards.
"Fitzgerald!" he said, in an altered tone, "this thing can yet be
arranged. You have gained an advantage over me, I grant, and I am
prepared to make it worth your while to keep this thing hushed up.
What are your terms?"
"Why should I name terms when you have once treacherously
gone back on your word?"
"I will not do so again."
"Do you want me to kill the boy?"
"No! Let him live, but never let him suspect who he is."
"And for this you will give me—how much?"
"Five thousand dollars!" answered Hugo, after a brief pause.
"It is a good sum, but your uncle's property amounts to a
quarter of a million, at least."
"Nothing like it," answered Hugo, hurriedly. "Besides, he is likely
to leave a large part to charitable institutions."
"Not if you can prevent it," thought Fitzgerald.
"It is useless!" he said aloud. "I am not to be bought."
"What, then, do you require?" asked Hugo, desperately.
"I require you to leave the country, and acknowledge Robert
Rudd as your cousin."
 "Never!" said Hugo, fiercely.
"Very well!" said Fitzgerald, rising.
"What are you going to do?" asked Hugo, anxiously.
"To leave you to your fate! Within a few hours you will be
arrested on a charge of complicity in an attempted murder."
"Stay!" exclaimed Hugo, now thoroughly alarmed. "How far has
this gone? Surely you have not revealed anything to Robert Rudd?
"Everything," answered Fitzgerald, laconically.
"To any one else?"
"Yes, to a lawyer, who is possessed of all the evidence in the
case, and is prepared to communicate all to your uncle!"
"Is this true?" asked Hugo, pale with dismay.
"You can believe it or not. I have only this to say, that you had
better go with me to the hotel where your cousin and his lawyer are
now staying, and assure yourself whether we are in earnest."
"Suppose I grant your demands and acknowledge the boy?"
"Then you will be suffered to go where you please unharmed."
"I will go with you."
Hugo accompanied Fitzgerald to the hotel, had a private
interview with the lawyer, and decided that opposition was useless.
He took care, however, to feather his own nest by appropriating a
large amount of government bonds belonging to his uncle, which, in
addition to his pickings and stealings for eight years past, provided
him with a competency. The theft could not be proved, for he alone
had the charge of his uncle's affairs. With his ill-gotten gains he
sailed for Europe, where he is now residing.
The joy of Cornelius Richmond when his grandson was restored
to him can be imagined. It seemed to bring him back from the grave
and restore his strength. A tutor was at once engaged to remedy
Robert Rudd's—now Robert Richmond's—defective education, and
money was actually lavished upon him by his doting grandfather. But
Robert stood the test of prosperity as he had stood the test of
adversity. He remained the same frank, manly, self-respecting boy,
and was not drawn into squandering his money in policy or
dissipation. But he delighted to help those of his former associates
who were unfortunate and needed assistance—for instance, a
trapeze performer, who having fractured a leg by a fall from the
trapeze, was left in want with a wife and four young children
dependent upon his exertions. For months Robert allowed him $10 a
week, and was heartily glad that his grandfather's liberality allowed
him also to be liberal.
Our hero rejoiced the heart of his old friend Anak by the gift of a
handsome gold watch, and he also remembered others who had
been kind to him. He has sent an invitation to Sidney Grey to visit
him at Chestnutwood, and has requested Squire Grey to transfer the
$200 entrusted to him to his son. He had intended to offer a home
to Charlie Davis, his associate rider, but Charlie had already attracted
the attention of a gentleman, who had offered to adopt him at the
close of the present season. My readers may be interested to know
that Master Charlie is this very summer travelling with a circus
through the New England States and Canada. Having lamed his foot,
he, too, is engaged for the time being in selling prize packages and
candy, but will probably retire from professional life in October.
Hundreds of the boys who read this story will probably see him at
some time during the season.
Robert is busily employed in remedying the deficiencies in his
education, and is already entrusted with a large part of the business
connected with the management of his grandfather's property. From
the latter has been concealed Hugo's wicked attempt to make away
with Robert, as it would shock the old man and affect him
injuriously. But he seldom inquires for his nephew, to whom he was
never much attached. He is quite content with the company of his
grandson. There are few who know that Robert Richmond, the heir
of Chestnut wood, was once
 ROBERT RUDD,
THE BOY WONDER!
The Best Bareback Rider in the World.

Specimen Cover of the Gunboat

Series.
 The
Famous
Castlemon
Books.

by

Harry

Castlemon.

No author of the present day has become a greater favorite with

boys than "Harry Castlemon;" every book by him is sure to meet
with hearty reception by young readers generally. His naturalness
and vivacity lead his readers from page to page with breathless
interest, and when one volume is finished the fascinated reader, like
Oliver Twist, asks "for more."
⁂ Any volume sold separately.
GUNBOAT SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. 6
vols., 12mo. Fully illustrated. Cloth, extra,
printed in colors. In box $7 50

Frank, the Young Naturalist 1 25

Frank in the Woods 1 25

Frank on the Prairie 1 25

Frank on a Gunboat 1 25

Frank before Vicksburg 1 25

Frank on the Lower Mississippi 1 25

GO AHEAD SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. 3

vols., 12mo. Fully illustrated. Cloth, extra,
printed in colors. In box $3 75

Go Ahead; or, The Fisher Boy's Motto 1 25

No Moss, or, The Career of a Rolling Stone 1 25

Tom Newcombe; or, The Boy of Bad

Habits 1 25

ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES. By Harry

Castlemon. 3 vols., 12mo. Fully
illustrated. Cloth, extra, printed in colors.
In box $3 75
Frank at Don Carlos' Rancho 1 25

Frank among the Rancheros 1 25

Frank in the Mountains 1 25

SPORTSMAN'S CLUB SERIES. By Harry $3 75

Castlemon. 3 vols., 12mo. Fully
 illustrated. Cloth, extra, printed in colors.
In box

The Sportsman's Club in the Saddle 1 25

The Sportsman's Club Afloat 1 25

The Sportsman's Club among the
Trappers 1 25

FRANK NELSON SERIES. By Harry

Castlemon. 3 vols. 12mo. Fully
illustrated. Cloth, extra, printed in colors.
In box $3 75
Snowed Up; or, The Sportsman's Club in
the Mts. 1 25

Frank Nelson in the Forecastle; or, The

Sportsman's Club among the Whalers 1 25

The Boy Traders; or, The Sportsman's Club

among the Boers 1 25
BOY TRAPPER SERIES. By Harry
Castlemon. 3 vols., 12mo. Fully
illustrated. Cloth, extra, printed in colors.
In box $3 75

The Buried Treasure; or, Old Jordan's

"Haunt" 1 25
The Boy Trapper; or, How Dave Filled the
Order 1 25

The Mail Carrier 1 25

ROUGHING IT SERIES. By Harry $3 75
Castlemon. 3 vols., 12mo. Fully
 illustrated. Cloth, extra, printed in colors.
In box

George in Camp; or, Life on the Plains 1 25

George at the Wheel; or, Life in a Pilot
House 1 25

George at the Fort; or, Life Among the

Soldiers 1 25

ROD AND GUN SERIES. By Harry

Castlemon. 3 vols., 12mo. Fully
illustrated. Cloth, extra, printed in colors.
In box $3 75
Don Gordon's Shooting Box 1 25

Rod and Gun 1 25

The Young Wild Fowlers 1 25

FOREST AND STREAM SERIES. By Harry

Castlemon. 3 vols., 12mo. Fully
illustrated. Cloth, extra, printed in colors.
In box $3 75

Joe Wayring at Home; or, Story of a Fly

Rod 1 25

Snagged and Sunk; or, The Adventures of

a Canvas Canoe 1 25

Steel Horse; or, The Rambles of a Bicycle 1 25

WAR SERIES. By Harry Castlemon. 4 vols.,

12mo. Fully illustrated. Cloth, extra,
printed in colors. In box 5 00
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