path: root/54654-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 54654 ***

[Illustration: FRANK READE WEEKLY MAGAZINE Containing Stories of
Adventures on Land, Sea & in the Air]

       _Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Application
           made for Second-Class Entry at N. Y. Post Office_

       No. 92.          NEW YORK, JULY 29, 1904.   Price 5 Cents.

[Illustration: THE SUNKEN ISTHMUS; OR, FRANK READE, JR., IN THE YUCATAN
CHANNEL.]

                  In a few minutes they were near the
                     other divers. One of them was
                  recognized as Poole. The villain was
                    the personification of fury. He
                   swung his ax aloft and made a rush
                    at Frank. His companions did the
                                 same.

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

                               FRANK READE

                             WEEKLY MAGAZINE.

      CONTAINING STORIES OF ADVENTURES ON LAND, SEA AND IN THE AIR.

   _Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Application made for
         Second Class entry at the New York, N. Y., Post Office.
 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1904, in the office of
                        the Librarian of Congress,
     Washington, D. C., by Frank Tousey, 24 Union Square, New York._

       =No. 92.=        NEW YORK, JULY 29, 1904.    =Price 5 Cents.=




                          THE SUNKEN ISTHMUS;
                                  OR,
               Frank Reade, Jr., in the Yucatan Channel.


                              By “NONAME.”




                                CONTENTS


           CHAPTER    I. WHICH IS INTRODUCTORY.
           CHAPTER   II. IN WHICH THE PROJECT IS UNDERTAKEN.
           CHAPTER  III. AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA.
           CHAPTER   IV. A WONDERFUL NARRATIVE.
           CHAPTER    V. A BOLD ESCAPE.
           CHAPTER   VI. THE SUNKEN ISTHMUS.
           CHAPTER  VII. A SERIOUS CATASTROPHE.
           CHAPTER VIII. THE VILLAIN OUTWITTED.
           CHAPTER   IX. THE SUNKEN CITY.
           CHAPTER    X. AT THE TREASURE CAVE.
           CHAPTER   XI. POOLE PLAYS A NEW CARD.
           CHAPTER  XII. A TURNING OF TABLES—THE END.




                               CHAPTER I.
                         WHICH IS INTRODUCTORY.


By looking at any comprehensive map it can be readily seen that upon the
western end of the Island of Cuba there is a cape known as San Antonio.

Opposite it and upon the eastern extremity of mystic Yucatan is Cape
Catoche. Between these two points of land lies that body of water which
connects the Gulf of Mexico with the Caribbean Sea and known as the
Yucatan Channel.

Mr. Wilbur Wade, the distinguished archæologist, geologist, naturalist
and scientist in general, had startled his associates of the World’s
Geographical Society by a positive and unheard-of statement.

“I have made very careful soundings in the Yucatan Channel,” he said;
“also I have compared the strata of the two capes, and it is my firm
belief that at a period not so very remote there existed no channel
between the two points of land. In fact——”

“Then you claim the existence of an isthmus between Cuba and Yucatan at
some time?” interrupted Professor Brown.

“Just so,” agreed Mr. Wade.

“What has become of it, I would like to ask?”

There was just a bit of cynicism in this query. But then these two men
had never been the warmest of friends. Wade bit his lip.

“What do you suppose has become of it?” he retorted. “Surely you don’t
think it has taken wings and flown away?”

“But you were going to prove the matter to us,” returned Professor
Brown, with a bit of sarcasm.

“If it is not an impossibility,” said Mr. Wade, ironically, “my opinion
is that the isthmus is at present at the bottom of the Yucatan Channel.”

A number of the scientists moved in their seats. Professor Brown smiled
broadly.

“A very simple matter to look at,” he said, pointedly. “Of course, it
will be easy to furnish absolute evidence?”

Mr. Wade turned a cold stare upon the man who could speak so
insultingly. Then he said:

“Before I allow the fact to go upon record I shall prove it.”

“Then we shall have an isthmus between Labrador and Greenland; another
‘twixt Japan and Corea; still another between Sicily and the Italian
Peninsula, and again——”

“One moment,” said Wade, politely. “You must remember that there is
nothing improbable in any hypothesis you have named. If I am not able to
prove myself right, you are not able to prove that the sunken isthmus
never existed. I leave it in all fairness to our fellow-members.”

There was a slight murmur of approval, but there was yet incredulity.

“How do you expect to prove that there was once an isthmus between Cape
San Antonio and Cape Catoche, may I ask, Mr. Wade?” spoke the chairman.

Mr. Wade drew himself up.

“By the only possible method,” he replied. “I shall visit it.”

The scientists all looked surprised. Professor Brown actually laughed
out loud and slyly tapped his forehead. Finally the chairman said:

“Really, Mr. Wade, you must allow that that is quite a remarkable
assertion. In what manner can you expect to visit this—this imaginary
sunken isthmus?”

Wade’s eyes flashed.

“Imaginary if you will,” he said; “I shall conduct my investigations
with a submarine boat.”

There was a great stir in the assemblage. Even Professor Brown forgot to
interject his sarcasm.

“In a submarine boat?” repeated the chairman. “Does such a craft exist?”

“It does!” replied Mr. Wade, suavely. “And a very dear friend of mine is
the inventor and owner.”

“His name?”

“Frank Reade, Jr., of Readestown.”

A murmur went through the throng. At once the sentiment began to change.
Professor Brown faded from view.

Not one in that distinguished company but had heard of Frank Reade, Jr.
His name changed the tide.

“Indeed!” exclaimed the chairman, with interest. “Is not Mr. Reade the
inventor of an airship?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And of other wonderful things?”

“Exactly.”

“So he has built a submarine boat?”

“He has, and it is a success. He has kindly consented to assist me in
locating the sunken isthmus. This boat is capable of remaining weeks
under the sea. The plan cannot fail.”

In a moment dozens of the men were thronging about Wade, congratulating
him heartily. Skeptical they were no longer. Foes a moment back, now
they were fawning friends. Truly, nothing creates friendship like one’s
success.

He was at once the lion of the hour. Scores of requests were showered
upon him. Would he procure such a specimen? Would he solve such a marine
problem? Was there any room on board the Sea Diver for another savant?

Et cetera, et cetera.

One still incredulous man ventured to ask:

“Will not the sunken isthmus be like all the rest of the bed of the sea?
How will you prove it was ever above the surface?”

“If an isthmus did exist in that locality,” said Wade, logically, “there
must have been habitations upon it. Probably I shall find ruins of a
village, town or city, or remains of forests or craters, or river beds.
There will be plenty of evidence if there ever was an isthmus.”

Wade went to New York from Washington on the night train. As he was
whirled away upon the fast express he felt that he had really gained a
great victory.

“I silenced that old hard-skull, Brown,” he muttered, with keen
satisfaction. “And he deserved it.”

I know the reader will agree with Wade in this. That night he consumed
in getting back to his Manhattan home.

The next day he packed his effects and started for Readestown.

Deep down in the heart of lovely hills upon a river navigable to the sea
was the beautiful little city of Readestown.

A number of generations of Reades had lived there, and all had been
inventors. But Frank Reade, Jr., the handsome young scion of the race,
had proved the most famous of all.

The fact was, everything he took hold of succeeded.

It was bound to “go,” and with a snap and vim characteristic of the
young American.

In undertaking the construction of a submarine boat Frank had hit upon
that which had been an enigma to thousands of inventors.

But his marvelous ingenuity won the day and he triumphed.

The Sea Diver was conceived, outlined, charted and built. Then she was
tested and proved an unqualified success.

In her outline the Sea Diver was long, slender and cylindrical, in the
shape of her hull. This rested upon a deep keel to insure steadiness,
which was a highly important matter.

The hull of the submarine boat was constructed of plates of steel,
closely riveted. Above the cigar-shaped hull there was an open deck,
extending from stem to stern.

In the center of the deck rose the dome, with the skylight and great
observation window. Under this was the luxuriously-appointed cabin.

Just forward of this dome was the pilot-house, a smaller dome with heavy
plate-glass windows. Here the steersman could direct the course of the
boat and operate the electric keyboard which directed the vessel’s
engines, for the motive power of the Sea Diver was electricity,
furnished by a wonderful storage system.

Aft there arose a square structure with bull’s-eye windows, with a
railed quarterdeck above it. This was called the after-cabin, and here
were the staterooms and living quarters of the submarine travelers.

On this quarter deck there was a powerful searchlight, capable of a
reach of fully two miles.

The interior of the Sea Diver lacked nothing in the way of equipment and
appointment.

There were supplies of all kinds aboard for a cruise of two years.

Amidships and under the big dome were the wonderful electric engines, by
means of which power was furnished for all the mechanism of the boat.

In the pilot-house was the electric keyboard. Here were the various
little buttons and brass levers by means of which the doors and windows
could be hermetically sealed, the huge tank filled with water instantly
for the sinking of the boat, or again for raising it by the expulsion of
the water with pneumatic pressure.

Thus the boat could be made to sink or rise at any desired depth; to go
forward or back at the pressure of a button.

As wonderful as anything was the system of circulation by means of
chemically-made oxygen. Under the pilot-house there was placed a
generator which was capable of manufacturing pure oxygen, and also of
extracting and destroying the bad air or gases as fast as they were
created.

Little pipes and open valves extended to every part of the boat through
which the oxygen was continually disseminated, so that the submarine
boat might remain an indefinite time under water and the voyagers could
be sure of breathing pure air all the time.

In fact, not a detail was lacking to make the Sea Diver a safe vessel, a
comfortable home and a symmetrical, beautiful craft.

It was true that Frank Reade, Jr., had done his best to perfect the new
submarine boat.

That he had been successful it was easy enough to see. Nobody had more
confidence in him than his friend, Mr. Wilbur Wade.

The scientist was ready to embark upon a voyage to any part of the
submarine world without considering for a moment the possible perils of
such a thing. He was a firm believer in the practicability of submarine
navigation, and the seaworthiness of the new boat.




                              CHAPTER II.
                  IN WHICH THE PROJECT IS UNDERTAKEN.


Mr. Wade reached Readestown in due time. He proceeded at once to a hotel
and ate an early breakfast.

Then he called a carriage and rode down to the machine shops of Frank
Reade, Jr. At that early hour he did not feel certain of meeting the
young inventor.

But at the gate there was a sawed-off, comical little darky, who scraped
and bowed and said:

“Yes, sah; I done reckon Marse Frank been lookin’ fo’ yo’ fo’ two days,
sah. He am in his office, sah. Show yo’ in, or does yo’ know de way?”

“I know the way, Pomp,” said Wade, alighting from his carriage. “I’ll
find him.”

Across the machine shop yard he went rapidly. He was about to enter a
small brick building by a half-open door when a man came out.

He was a genuine type of Irishman, with comical mug, dancing blue eyes
and a shock of red hair. He stopped at sight of Mr. Wade and exclaimed:

“Begorra, and I belave that is the gintlemin himsilf. Top av the day to
ye, sor. Is yer name Misther Wade, sor?”

“It is,” replied the scientist. “And you are Barney?”

“Yis, sor; an’ I was jist on the way to the tillygraph office wid a
message from Misther Frank for yez, sor. Shure, there’ll be no use av
sindin’ it now.”

“Then he was about to wire me?”

“Yis sor?”

“Well, I must have kept him waiting,” declared Wade. “I will go right in
and see him.”

“That’s roight, sor.”

Wade passed through a narrow hallway and entered a square, high-ceiled
room, hung with curious looking charts and diagrams. A large table was
also covered with the same.

At this sat a handsome young man, with a rare type of intellectual
features, and the air which belongs to a brainy man.

“Wade!” he exclaimed, putting out his hand. “I was just going to wire
you.”

“So I learn,” cried the scientist. “I am more than sorry if I have
delayed you.”

“That is all right; you are quite ready for the start?”

“Yes.”

“Good! The Sea Diver is all equipped, and lies out there in the tank.
All we have to do is to go aboard, run her down the canal to the river,
and be off.”

“For the Sunken Isthmus?”

“Just so.”

“If it exists.”

“At any rate, we shall have a submarine voyage; but there is good reason
to believe that it exists.”

“So I believe, though my fellow-members of the World’s Society are a bit
incredulous. We had quite an argument at the last session.”

“Ah!”

“But when I informed them that I was going to visit the spot in a real
submarine boat, they thought I was daft or gone mad until I mentioned
your name. That was like magic.”

Frank laughed.

“Do they know me?” he asked.

“Indeed, yes, as the inventor of the airship. That settled a large
measure of doubt in their minds right off. Then there were those who
desired to share our fortunes.”

This amused Frank muchly.

“No doubt of it,” he laughed. “They began to see the elements of success
in your project. You can afford to snub them well, whether the isthmus
is discovered or not.”

“Well,” said Wade, with a thrill of pleasure in his voice, “I look
forward with the keenest of pleasure to exploring the waters of the
Yucatan Channel. I am in complete readiness to start.”

“Very good,” said Frank; “we will go on board to-night and start with
the early morning light. The Sea Diver lies in the tank, all ready.
Shall we take a look at her?”

“With pleasure,” replied Wade.

They left the office and crossed the yard to a gate. Passing through
this, another and larger yard was seen. In the center of this was a
large basin or tank of water.

And in it floated the new submarine boat.

The tank was connected by a series of locks with a canal which led down
to the river. It was thus an easy matter to sail direct from the factory
yard for any part of the world.

Frank and Wade went on board the submarine boat. The latter picked out
his stateroom and made other necessary arrangements. Then he said:

“I will go back to the hotel, Frank, and get my trunks. Then I will take
up my quarters permanently aboard the Sea Diver.”

“Very good,” agreed Frank. “We will sail at an early hour in the
morning.”

After Wade had gone, Frank called Barney and Pomp. He told these two
servitors of his purpose, and added:

“You must be all in readiness; there must be no delay.”

“All roight,” cried Barney, as he ducked his head and threw a
handspring; “it’s mesilf as will be there, sor.”

“Golly, dis chile neber miss de chance, Marse Frank,” cried Pomp,
cutting a double-shuffle.

These two comical characters had been associated with all the thrilling
experiences of Frank Reade, Jr., in his world-wide travels.

Barney and Pomp were his faithful companions, and he would hardly have
been able to fill their places. Barney was an expert engineer and
electrician, and Pomp was the prince of cooks and a generally handy man.

They were excellent company, and Frank never felt at a loss for
entertainment while in their company. He could ill have spared Barney
and Pomp.

Barney and Pomp were the best of friends in all things, but each was as
full of fun as a nut is of meat. Consequently there was nothing they
enjoyed more than a rough and tumble wrestle or the playing of a
practical joke.

If half the things they said to each other could have been taken
seriously, there would have been good ground for a duel at most any
time. But they knew better.

So there were to be four people in the crew of the Sea Diver. Besides
Barney and Pomp, there were Frank Reade, Jr., and Wilbur Wade.

All were on board the boat that night and all was in readiness for the
early start. It is safe to say that none in the party slept much that
night.

Barney and Pomp were first astir.

As they made things ship-shape and breakfast was announced by Pomp,
Frank and Wade came tumbling out. Then, after a light meal, Frank went
into the pilot-house.

There were men on hand to open the locks and the boat was locked down
into the canal. Thence it glided on down into the river.

It was an easy matter for Frank to place his finger upon an electric
button and direct the course of the boat where he chose.

When they emerged into the river they were surprised to see a great
throng upon the river banks. Thousands of people were there gathered to
get a look at the new submarine boat.

They cheered vociferously as the Sea Diver appeared. Down the river the
submarine boat glided.

Soon Readestown was left behind. Other towns were passed, and in due
course the river widened and the open sea was spread out to their view.

The great submarine cruise was really begun.

Out into the Atlantic the Sea Diver ran. Frank still kept her to the
surface.

For he knew that she could travel faster and easier there. There would
be enough deep-sea traveling later on.

The course of the Diver was set for the Gulf of Mexico.

Land faded quickly from view and soon only the boundless expanse of the
sea was on every hand. The horizon was at times dotted with sails, and
once one of the vessels in passing spoke the Sea Diver.

For two days the submarine boat kept her southward course. Then one
morning as the voyagers tumbled out on deck Frank noted that the wind
was in the east and was beginning to kick up a nasty sea.

The little boat rode the water like a cork. There was no question as to
her seaworthiness.

But great, lowering clouds overhung the sky and pattering drops of rain
fell. Distant vessels were seen scudding under bare poles.

“It’s my opinion,” said Wade who was something of a sailor, “that we are
going to have a big blow.”

“I agree with you,” said Frank.

“However, I reckon the Diver is well able to cope with any such a
storm?”

“Indeed, yes,” said Frank. “If it gets too rough on the surface we can
take a trip below.”

“Sure enough; we would never feel the storm there.”

“It is hardly likely. Heigho! What is that? On my word, I believe those
were signals of distress!”

Frank pointed to a distant vessel which had the appearance of a large
schooner-yacht. There was no doubt but that the signal of distress was
at her masthead.

“She’s in trouble, surely,” cried Wade. “Can she have struck a leak?”

“Begorra, she’s carryin’ too much sail fer the loikes av this breeze,”
cried Barney. “Shure, it’s crazy they are!”

This was true. The schooner carried every rag of canvas. This was
plainly a reckless thing.

It looked as if the crew were panic-stricken, or else ignorant of the
proper course of safety. Certainly the yacht was in a dangerous strait.

The submarine voyagers were in a bit of a quandary. What should they do?

Humanity dictated that they go to her assistance. Prudence, however,
asserted the policy of keeping away from her.

There was no means of knowing how many were in her crew. They would
doubtless have to leave the schooner and would all pile aboard the Sea
Diver. This would be a perilous thing for the submarine voyagers.
Moreover, what would be done with them?

Frank reflected some moments, then he said, with sudden resolution:

“Humanity demands it. I cannot conscientiously refuse to give them aid.”

“That’s right,” cried Wade. “We ought not to hesitate.”

Frank stepped into the pilot-house, but even as his fingers touched the
keyboard a warning cry came from Wade.

“It is too late,” he cried.




                              CHAPTER III.
                       AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA.


This startling announcement of Wade’s caused a chill to traverse Frank’s
frame. He shot a hasty glance at the distant vessel.

Then he saw the startling scene which had induced Wade’s declaration.

The storm had swooped down upon the schooner like a foul fiend. One
brief glimpse of her fate was had.

She was seen to keel over with the force of the blast. Then her sails
were in ribbons and her foremast snapped like a pipestem.

The next moment she was on her beam-ends. Then the black cloud shut her
from view.

The next moment the storm struck the Sea Diver. What followed was ever
after like a dream.

The hurricane almost blew the staunch little boat out of the water.
Enormous seas were hurrying and crashing over her deck.

Frank had ordered all into the cabin, and the doors and windows were
closed hermetically. But the shock of the storm threatened to dash the
little craft to pieces.

Frank saw the possibility of much damage being done, so he cried:

“Stand by the engines, Barney, I am going to send the boat down.”

Frank pressed an electric button. In a moment the Sea Diver sank below
the surface.

Down she settled, and for a moment all was darkness aboard her. Then
Frank pressed a small button.

In a moment every electric light aboard was in full blast. A wonderful
scene was spread to view.

The depth of the sea at this point was not more than one hundred and
fifty fathoms, so that the voyagers very quickly came in sight of the
bottom.

Unlike the bed of the Pacific or the Indian Oceans, the Atlantic is
mostly devoid of coral reefs or reaches of white sand.

There was a vast area of mud and slime, with some few marine plants
spread to view. Huge serpent-like eels wriggled through this, and
myriads of dark-hued fish scurried away rapidly.

The scene was a sombre and by no means attractive one. Wade was not much
impressed.

“Pshaw,” he exclaimed, in sheer disappointment, “so this is the home of
the mermaid and the charm of the deep sea, of which we read such
alluring accounts? Ugh! What a disillusion!”

“Ah, but this is not a type of deep-sea regions,” replied Frank. “This
is a dirty part of the Atlantic, but before we return I think you will
see some beautiful sights. We shall find it different in the Caribbean.”

“I hope so,” replied the scientist, with disgust. “Certainly this is a
horrible conception of deep-sea life, but I cannot help thinking of that
vessel. Do you suppose she is weathering the storm?”

“It is a question,” replied Frank. “She was in very bad shape. However,
let us hope that she will.”

“Amen to that. Is there nothing we can do to give her aid?”

“I fear not; at least until the storm abates.”

“She may be at the bottom by that time.”

“That is possible. If afloat, however, she will be crippled and sorely
in need of aid.”

The Sea Diver did not rest upon the muddy bottom, but was held in
suspension about twenty feet from it. Frank’s purpose was to return to
the surface as quickly as possible after the abating of the storm.

After an hour had passed it was ventured to ascend. Frank took the wheel
of the Diver and held her steady.

Up she went.

Soon she felt the motion of the sea’s surface. It was not rough, and
Frank concluded that the hurricane had passed.

So he let the Diver leap up into daylight. The electric lights were shut
off at the same moment.

Eagerly the voyagers swept the rolling expanse with their eyes. Not a
sign of the schooner or any other vessel could be seen.

“She has gone to the bottom,” gasped Wade; “her fate is sealed!”

So it seemed. Frank procured his glass and scanned the vast expanse. He
closed it, finally, saying:

“She has either gone down, or else the storm has blown her beyond our
range of vision.”

“Do you believe the latter possible?” asked Wade.

“It is very likely.”

“I don’t know why it is,” said the scientist, “but I am mightily
interested in that vessel. I would like to know her fate for a
certainty.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Frank, with some surprise. “Why more interested in
her than any other craft we might meet?”

“I can hardly tell,” replied Wade, “but it is a certain fact that I am.
I have some sort of a curious feeling that our career is in some manner
intertwined with hers.”

Frank could not resist a laugh.

“Moonshine!” he said. “Your imagination is getting the best of you, Mr.
Wade.”

The scientist shook his head.

“It may be all nonsense,” he said, “but we shall see.”

The sea was yet a trifle rough. The hurricane had swept away beyond the
horizon and was quite out of sight.

The Sea Diver once more stood away on her course. In a little while
matters had assumed the usual routine.

Barney was at work slushing the deck to get rid of the accumulation
gained by the boat’s submersion. There were heaps of seaweed, great
masses of jellyfish and other forms of marine life.

Pomp was in the galley preparing a smoking repast. He had opened a
window to admit air, and Barney chanced to pass near it.

It was an ill moment for the Celt.

Pomp had mixed some dough for bread a short while before, and now had
discovered that the yeast was unfit for use, and the bread as a result,
was spoiled. This put the darky out of temper.

“I don’ see wha’ was de mattah wif dat ar yeast,” he grumbled. “Kain’t
seem to do nuffin’ wif it. Dere am all dat dough sp’iled. It meks me
berry mad. Well, dere’s one fing it can make food fo’, an’ dat am de
fishes. So here goes!”

The coon picked up the huge mass of dough and hurled it through the open
window. He expected that it would land far out in the water. But it
didn’t.

As luck had it, Barney was just passing that way. He came in a line with
the window just in time to get that soft, sticky mass full in the side
of the head.

The soft dough split around his skull, with such force did it strike
him, and stopped his ear, nostrils and eyes. The Celt went down as if
struck by a cannonball.

For a second he was unable to realize what had happened. Pomp was for
that brief instant aghast.

“Massy Lordy!” he muttered; “I done hit somebody!”

Then he ran to the window and looked out.

When he saw who it was and noted Barney’s comical plight he could not
help but roar with laughter.

The Celt scrambled to his feet. His mop was at one end of the deck and
his pail of suds at the other.

“Tare an’ ‘ounds!” he roared, as he put up his hands and felt the mass
of soft dough, not knowing what it was, “it’s me brains they’ve knocked
out av me! Howly murther! It’s kilt I am! It’s kilt I am!”

Then he chanced to uncover one eye and saw Pomp in a paroxysm at the
galley window. He glanced down at his hand, which was full of dough.

Well, the transition was brief. A madder Irishman old Neptune never bore
upon his heaving bosom.

With angry hands Barney tried to claw the dough from his mop of red
hair. Of course, it only clung the worse.

He managed to get his eyes clear and his ear, then he made the air blue
about him.

“Howly shmoke, but I’ll have the heart av yez fer that!” he roared, “yez
black-skinned ape, yez! Have at yez! I’ll tache ye to insult a
gintlemin!”

“Hi—hi—hi! Massy Lordy!” howled Pomp, “dat am de berry funniest fing!”

“Yez think it funny eh?” roared Barney. “Well, yez won’t think that way
whin I git done wid yez!”

“Ho—ho—ho! hi—hi—hi!”

“Phwat do yez mane by threating me thot way?” roared Barney, trying to
claw the dough out of his hair.

“How yo’ fink I know yo’ was gwine to get hit?” cried Pomp. “Wha’ yo’
git in de way, fo’?”

“Do yez mane to say yez didn’t throw that on purpose?”

“Course I didn’. I was goin’ to frow it into de sea when yo’ head cum
along an’ jes’ got in de way.”

“Arrah, an’ that’ll do very well fer yez to say,” cried the Celt, “but
if yez think I belave it——”

“Shuah, it’s de troof,” protested Pomp.

“I’ll tache yez to hit me wid a doughball an’ thin lie about it
aftherwards,” roared the Celt. And then he made a dive for the window.

But Pomp clashed it shut in his face. The Celt rushed around to the
galley door.

But the darky shut the bolt in this, and for the time was master of the
situation. But, though baffled, Barney was not defeated.

He retired, vowing the direst of vengeance. It took an hour’s hard work
to get the clinging dough out of his hair.

Nor did he get any sympathy from any one. When Frank and Wade heard the
story they laughed heartily. This made Barney only the madder.

“Be me sowl!” he muttered, “I’ll more than aven it up wid that black
rascal. Shure, I’ll tache him manners!”

How Barney accomplished his purpose we shall see at a later day.

The Sea Diver kept on its course for the rest of that day.

Night finally shut down, dark and moonless. But with the searchlight it
was easy for the Diver to travel, with no fear of a collision.

She was rapidly nearing Key West, and would the next day be in Gulf
waters. The air was fresh and delightful, and the voyagers sat out on
deck until a late hour.

While thus enjoying themselves, suddenly Barney sprung up.

“Shure, sor!” he cried, motioning to Frank, “there’s a lot of colored
loights over there. Phwat do yez make av it?”

“A vessel in distress!” exclaimed Frank, as he scrutinized the distant
signals. “Do you suppose it was our schooner?”




                              CHAPTER IV.
                         A WONDERFUL NARRATIVE.


Perhaps the most startled member of the party was Wilbur Wade. He rushed
to the rail, straining his gaze in the direction of the signal lights.

“I knew it would come!” he cried, excitedly. “I was sure we had not seen
the last of that schooner.”

Certainly some vessel, distant but a few miles, was flying signal lights
of distress.

The submarine voyagers would have been inhuman, indeed, not to have
responded. The Diver’s prow was turned toward the lights.

Rapidly she drew nearer, and the searchlight was focused upon the
vessel. Then there was a cry of recognition.

“I told you so!” cried Wade, eagerly; “it is the schooner!”

Nearer the Diver rapidly drew. When within fifty yards of the disabled
schooner there came a loud hail:

“Steam yacht ahoy!”

“Ahoy the schooner!” replied Frank.

“What yacht is that?”

“This is not a yacht.”

“Oh, a torpedo cruiser, eh?”

“No,” replied Frank; “this is the submarine boat, the Sea Diver, Captain
Frank Reade, Jr., of Readestown, U. S. A.”

There was a moment’s silence.

Then a surprised voice said:

“A submarine boat? Do you mean that literally?”

“I do,” replied Frank.

“Well, that beats me! Where are you bound?”

“Before I answer any more questions,” shouted Frank, “let me ask you a
few.”

“All right.”

“What craft are you?”

“This is the schooner-yacht Meta, of the American Yacht Club, Captain
Hardy Poole. We are bound for the Yucatan Channel, but this storm has
taken away our foreyard, and we want to strike some vessel which carries
a spare one.”

“Are you in distress in any other way?” asked Frank.

“No.”

“Well, then, we cannot help you. We wish you success and good-night.”

“Wait!” shouted the captain of the schooner; “don’t leave us yet. I am
interested in your statement about your craft. I will send off a boat to
bring you aboard. Perhaps I can tell you something of interest.”

Frank was surprised.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I will explain later. Look for our boat!”

Frank hesitated a moment. Then he turned to Wilbur Wade.

“What can he desire to see us about?” he asked. “Is it worth while to
wait and ascertain?”

“Oh, by all means!” cried Wade. “Don’t you remember what he said? He is
also bound for the Yucatan Channel!”

“That is so,” exclaimed Frank, with sudden recollection.

“I tell you, this schooner is in some way bound to become involved in
our project. Some strange presentiment has told me that!”

“It is quite a coincidence,” muttered Frank. “Yet I cannot see how his
trip to the channel can in any way affect us.”

“We shall see. I would like to go aboard the schooner with you, Frank.”

“Certainly.”

Frank stepped into the pilot-house and gave Barney orders to lie by and
wait for their return. Then he put on a light overcoat, as did Wade, and
they were ready for the visit.

Very soon a dark object came bounding over the waves toward them. It was
the yacht’s boat.

Presently it reached the gangway of the Diver.

“Ahoy!” came the hail; “this is the Meta’s boat waiting for Captain
Reade.”

“All right,” cried Frank, as he slid down into the boat. He was followed
by Wade.

A moment later four strong oarsmen were rowing them rapidly over to the
yacht.

Once alongside it was an easy matter to mount the gangway and meet the
captain of the Meta awaiting them at the rail.

He was a tall, powerfully framed man, and in the glare of the lanterns
he was seen to be possessed of a dark, stern cast of features. Frank’s
first glance was not exactly a favorable one.

He shook hands.

“This is Mr. Reade, I presume?” asked the captain of the yacht.

“It is,” replied Frank. “And this, I presume, is Captain Poole? I have
brought my friend, Mr. Wilbur Wade, with me.”

Poole gave Wade a critical glance.

“You are both welcome,” he said. “Come into the cabin.”

Without further ceremony they followed the schooner’s captain. The cabin
of the Meta was richly furnished.

But both Frank and Wade noted one curious fact.

Every man of the schooner’s crew, and even Poole himself carried arms.
They wore belts and revolver pouches.

In these piping times of peace—and certainly in these seas—this could
but be regarded as very strange. To the visitors it even had a sinister
look.

On their way to the cabin Wade had an opportunity to whisper to Frank:

“Did you note those pistols?”

“Yes,” replied Frank.

“Are they cranks or pirates?”

Frank could hardly restrain a laugh.

“It is very mysterious!” he said. “Keep your eyes open. We will soon
find out what it means.”

As they entered the cabin Poole motioned them to seats at a table. He
sat opposite.

He was now plainly revealed in the glare of the cabin lamp. As his
visitors thus got a good look at him, each experienced a peculiar
sensation.

It seemed almost like a chill.

In all his life Frank thought he had never seen a man of such remarkable
appearance.

His features were long and almost cadaverous. His eyes dark and piercing
and burning with a strange light. He wore a sharp imperial and pointed
mustache, with a saturnine smile which gave a truly Mephistophelian
appearance.

In plain terms he was out and out the thorough type of the villain. Such
both Frank and Wade adjudged him.

For a moment they sat there facing this strange being, who seemed like a
portrait from a piratical past. Poole’s shifty gaze roamed over them,
and then he spoke:

“I am honored by this visit, Mr. Reade. It is certainly fate which has
thrown us together in this way, for I am very sure that we may be of
mutual service to each other.”

“Indeed!” said Frank, with a little surprise; “I shall be pleased to
know just how.”

“First I must tell you a story,” said Poole, with a crafty smile. “It
concerns my mission and the character of my yacht and crew.”

“Really——”

“That is all right. I know that you have not failed to size up our
peculiar appearance. Is it not true that we bear the appearance of
latter-day pirates?”

“Why—I—I—had not thought much about that,” stammered Frank.

“Ah, yes, you have. It is not usual for people to go armed in these
times. The days of Morgan, the rover, and Kidd, the buccaneer, are long
past; yet we are seen emulating them.”

Frank and Wade were speechless. They could do nothing but stare at the
speaker.

He smiled in his saturnine way.

“Fear not,” he said, in his cool, almost impudent way. “I have not
entrapped you, nor decoyed you on board this yacht for any nefarious
purpose. Your statement that you were the possessor of a submarine boat
has interested me, and I have a remarkable proposition to make. But
first to my story:

“I am a native of Sicily, though an American by extraction, that is, I
was born in that island, of Yankee parents. I was some years ago the
possessor of a large fortune, but Monte Carlo and a fast life soon
dissipated it.

“I had a half-brother, by name Alfonso, my father having married a
Spanish lady. We were never good friends. We quarreled at every
available opportunity.

“Despite this, Alfonso came to me when we were both penniless and
begging for alms in Naples. He was a rogue, was Alfonso, but had no head
for scheming. He assured me that he was on the track of a fortune.

“He produced a tin box, containing an ancient chart which had been an
heirloom in his mother’s family. It was a map of an isle in the sea and
described the location of a buried treasure upon that isle. Millions in
Peruvian gold had been buried there by a buccaneering ancestor. But,
alas! the latitude and longitude was so obscurely marked that it could
not be deciphered.

“If there was any way to make that out, then the location of the
treasure might be established and a fortune reaped. Alfonso had great
faith in my sagacity, and deemed it possible that I might accomplish
what others had failed to do. So he brought the charts to me.

“And he was right. I puzzled over the figures for a long time. Then I
experimented with chemicals. I at length found a certain one which, by
soaking the vellum, raised the obliterated figures and made them
perceptible to the eye. By studying the map I learned that the gold was
buried upon the Isle of Mona, in the Channel of Yucatan.

“We were half insane with our discovery. But for a time it seemed as if
it would avail us naught.

“To reach the isle we must have a ship, and a crew of sworn and trusted
men. For a long time we were in a quandary. But at length we found
Signor Barboni, a merchant of Palermo, who lent us his assistance. A
small ship was fitted out secretly and we sailed, nine men of us,
Alfonso and Barboni.

“In due course we reached Mona. We landed at once and began to search
for the treasure. And here was our grand mistake.

“We had traced our way into a rocky cavern. Digging in the sand we had,
as we believed, almost reached the gold. A bit of earthen pottery was
thrown out and a coin found, when a reverse came.

“Suddenly there descended upon us a hundred or more savage Caribs. A
terrible battle ensued.

“We were not effectively armed, and the odds were tremendous. My brother
Alfonso was brained by one of the savages. Signor Barboni was the next
victim. We fought our way to the surf, and only three of us, covered
with wounds, reached the ship.

“We spread sails to get away from the accursed place. A calm was on the
sea, however, and there we lay until nightfall. Then a terrible thing
happened.”




                               CHAPTER V.
                             A BOLD ESCAPE.


Poole paused a moment, huskily. He arose and took down a decanter and
glasses.

He filled and offered them to his visitors. They sipped the wine. He
took a copious draught and then went on:

“Somewhat curiously, the Caribs did not come out to our boat to attack
us. If they had we must have yielded easily.

“But we soon learned the reason why. They were treasure-mad. With our
picks and shovels they had dug up the gold and were fighting over it
like wolves.

“As darkness began to shut down the sea began to experience a strange
motion. A dull, cannon-like roar came out of the west. Then we witnessed
a terrible phenomenon.

“The waters rose like a mighty flood over the isle. At least that was
the way it looked. But instead it was the isle which sank into the sea.”

Frank and Wade each drew a deep breath.

They had been intensely interested.

“Then,” continued Poole, “we had hard work to save the ship, but we made
out to live through the vortex, and having fair weather worked the ship
into the port of Havana.

“Here we sold her and returned to Paris. I separated from my companions.
Monte Carlo drew me into its grip once more, and one night the devil
aided me and I broke the bank.

“My first fate was to succumb to the treasure fever. I bought this yacht
and fitted it out with a view to making a fighting vessel of it. This
time I was bound to have means of defense in case of attack.

“My men are picked and trusty. They are all bound to me by the most
powerful of oaths. I have every sort of diving apparatus aboard. In this
manner I have hoped to recover the treasure. This is my story.”

Neither Frank nor Wade spoke. There was silence for a moment. Then Poole
said, in a metallic voice:

“If you have a submarine boat it will be of more service to me than to
you. How will you trade it for this yacht? Name your price!”

Frank met the other’s gaze steadily, and replied:

“I do not care to exchange.”

Poole’s face grew livid.

His hand instinctively went to his belt. He said:

“Oh, I can see your game. You will easily recover the treasure yourself
of which I have told you. But I may as well tell you now that game will
not work. You cannot leave this cabin alive unless you come to terms!”

It was a thrilling moment.

Wade’s face paled.

But Frank was as cool as an icicle.

“That is a strong statement,” he said. “Only a pirate would make it.”

“As you please,” said Poole, carelessly. “I claim the treasure, and it
shall be mine!”

“For all of me, you can claim it and recover it,” said Frank. “We are
not hunting for treasure.”

It was Poole’s turn now to look utter astonishment.

He sank back in his chair and looked cunningly at his visitors.

“Where are you bound?”

“To the Yucatan Channel,” replied Frank.

“On what errand?”

“A purely scientific one. My friend here, Mr. Wade, is a member of the
American Scientific Society and claims that at one time an isthmus
existed between the points of Cape San Antonio and Cape Catoche. To
prove the matter we propose to explore the deep sea in that vicinity.”

Poole drew a deep breath.

His eyes glittered.

“Mona was upon that parallel,” he said. “You will be sure to locate the
treasure that belongs to me; I claim it by right of prior discovery. Of
this I warn you!”

“Claim it, and be hanged!” said Wade, with disgust. “Come, Frank, let us
go back.”

Both men arose.

But Poole drew a brace of pistols and placed his back against the cabin
door. He looked ugly.

“You shall not leave here until you have given me your oath,” he said.

“You will obstruct us at your peril,” said Frank, very quietly.

“I seem to have the best of the situation just now,” said the villain,
showing his white teeth.

“What sort of an oath do you require us to give?” asked Wade.

“You must swear that you will not touch the sunken treasure of Mona,”
said the villain, intensely. “You look like men of honor. If you give me
your word, you will be likely to keep it.”

“We will give our word,” replied the scientist. “Eh, Frank?”

“Certainly,” replied the young inventor.

Poole studied their faces a moment closely. Then the lines of his face
relaxed.

“You will pardon the trouble I have put you to, gentlemen,” he said,
“but I am gold-mad. I must have the treasure! I cannot be balked in my
purpose!”

“Well,” said Wade, “we have agreed to your terms.”

The villain smiled.

“There are other things,” he said.

Frank’s eyes flashed. He drew his lithe form up.

Wade looked disappointed and not a little alarmed that his temporizing
had not been a better success.

Poole fixed his keen gaze upon the two men and continued:

“You have the power to visit the depths of the sea. If Mona is sunk too
deep our diving apparatus must fail. Since you will not trade or sell
your boat, I must charter it for the purpose of bringing up the gold. I
will pay you well for the service—yes, I will give you a fifth of the
treasure. Come now, is not that fair?”

For a moment Frank Reade, Jr., was so overwhelmed with scorn that he
could not speak. When he did recover his voice it was metallic and
raspy.

“My friend,” he said, “you labor under a wrong impression. We are not
fools; neither are we to be cajoled or bullied. If you had come to me in
an honorable, open manner I would not have refused the favor, but as it
stands, I would not grant it to you for any consideration. We are going
back to our boat. Be so kind as to unbar that door.”

In spite of his pretended advantage the villain quailed before Frank’s
eagle gaze and commanding manner.

He moved uneasily, then took up a whining tone:

“Now, come, my friend, don’t be unreasonable. I didn’t mean those
threats. You shall not be sorry.”

Frank took a step forward. The fellow raised one of his pistols. Quick
as lightning Frank grabbed his wrist and then with a downright blow of
his other hand, dashed the other pistol from his grip. At the same
moment he drew back and hurled the villain from the door. It was done in
the twinkling of an eye.

Poole himself was astounded at the ease with which Frank accomplished
this. His murderous spirit at once flamed up.

“Curse you!” he hissed. “I’ll have your life for that!”

He wrenched his hand free and raised the pistol left him. But like a
flash Wade brought his fist down upon the villain’s hand and dashed the
weapon to the floor.

Then the scientist proved that he could fight as well as solve
geographical problems. With a leap like a panther he had clutched
Poole’s windpipe.

Frank came to his aid, and together they bore the villain to the cabin
floor. He could make no outcry, and, furious though he was, could not
act.

Could he have made an outcry, or a signal of alarm, in less time than it
takes to tell it he would have had assistance which would have turned
the tables.

But Frank and Wade were already determined upon their plan of action.

They knew well that if they allowed their prisoner to make an outcry
their fate would be sealed. So while Wade held the helpless villain by
the throat Frank forced a gag into his mouth.

Then he hastily tied his arms and legs with some cord which he found in
the cabin. Thus placed hors-de-combat, the wretch was left.

Frank and Wade very coolly stepped out of the cabin and closed the door
behind them. A moment later they were on deck.

Two armed men of the crew stood at the gangway, but neither Frank nor
Wade affected to notice them, and descended to the boat.

“Row us back!” said Frank, authoritatively to the oarsmen.

“Ay, ay, sir!” was the reply, and they bent to their work. A few minutes
later Frank and Wade were on board the Sea Diver.

They had barely gained the deck when an uproar was heard on board the
schooner.

“They have found him!” exclaimed Wade. “What shall we do, Frank?”

“Put on all speed, Barney!” cried Frank. “Steer due west!”

“All roight, sor.”

The submarine boat shot forward. But just at that moment a jet of flame
shot from the side of the schooner, and a heavy boom smote upon the air.

A cannonball just grazed the stern of the Sea Diver.

“Egad!” cried Wade. “That won’t do, Frank! If that had struck us fair we
would have gone to the bottom to stay!”

“Right!” cried Frank. “Douse the lights, Barney. Veer to the south.”

All was done in the twinkling of an eye. The Diver was in instant
darkness and was running away like a flash on another course.

The piratical schooner kept up a random fire in an opposite direction.
But the game had slipped them.

“Hurrah!” cried Wade, jubilantly, “didn’t we give them a good slip!
Serves the rascals right!”

“Aye,” replied Frank; “he was more than a rogue, that fellow!”

“We may see him again.”

“If we do, we will not place ourselves in the lion’s mouth again.”

“You are right.”

It was true that their destination was the same—that is, the Yucatan
Channel, but forewarned is forearmed, and the voyagers were not to be
deceived in the character of Hardy Poole now.

“Begorra, it’s bad luck to the omadhouns,” cried Barney. “Av we only had
a dynamite gun wid us now, we’d be able to settle their account
foriver!”




                              CHAPTER VI.
                          THE SUNKEN ISTHMUS.


The submarine boat ran on until the lights of the schooner were lost
below the horizon. When daylight came there was naught but a clear sea
between them.

“We are in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico,” said Frank, with some
satisfaction. “Cuba is on our lee.”

This caused all a thrill of excitement.

It was not a long run to the extremity of the “ever-faithful isle,” and
then the Channel of Yucatan would be reached.

Frank reckoned that they would make it easily by the next noon. The Meta
would be certainly a day longer covering the same distance.

That the schooner would really visit the locality Frank had every reason
to believe. But he anticipated no trouble in keeping out of her way.

Steadily onward the Sea Diver ran. At length land was sighted to the
southwest.

“The Isle of Cuba!” cried Wade.

“No,” said Frank; “Cuba is farther to the east. Those are some little
cays which lay off the coast. We must bear off a little to the west.”

At this moment Barney sighted a sail. It was a coast lugger and carried
some trading natives from Honduras.

They signaled the Diver in a careless sort of way and then scurried off
to the eastward.

“They are afraid of us,” cried Wade.

Frank laughed.

“Doubtless they think us a government boat or war vessel,” he said.
“Their trade may be of an illicit kind.”

However this was, the lugger certainly got out of the way very rapidly.
She was soon lost to view.

They were now well into the Yucatan Channel. Wilbur Wade was a very busy
man.

He was hurriedly making his reckoning and drawing his lines for
exploration. The Sea Diver sailed slowly westward the while.

At length she came to a stop. It was at this point that the quest was to
begin.

If there was really such a thing in existence as the Sunken Isthmus this
was certainly the locality to look for it.

“I have been thinking about that sunken Isle of Mona,” said Wade. “Why
might it not have been a part of the isthmus?”

“Very likely,” agreed Frank. “We may be directly over it now.”

“Eh!” exclaimed Wade, with a start. “And if we should come across the
treasure——”

The two men looked at each other.

“I don’t see why it would not be lawfully ours as well as Poole’s,” said
Frank. “Yet, I have no hankering for it.”

“Still, we might rescue it from the sea. Certainly if Poole gets it he
will make no good use of it. It would be a mercy to cheat him out of it.
Yet we have given him our oath——”

“Pshaw!” said Frank. “That does not count. It is not binding after what
followed.”

“That is true. However, I don’t believe there is a very great chance of
our finding any treasure. Let it stay down there with the drowned
Caribs. Doubtless it is accursed gold.”

“I am agreeable.”

Down settled the boat.

The electric lights flashed forth, and now a remarkable scene was
presented to the view of the voyagers.

In that one moment of strained gaze it was seen that the hypothesis of
the Sunken Isthmus was a thrilling truth.

It was an exciting fact.

Below them the searchlight showed a deep defile between rocky hills. And
upon the sides of those hills there were leafless trees, with arms and
branches and trunks as natural as life.

The wonderful chemical action of the water in these seas had doubtless
caused a species of petrifaction. Astounded, the voyagers gazed upon the
wonderful spectacle.

Wade was right in his element.

His hobby, his pet theory, had found verification. It only needed more
extensive research to establish the fact of the complete isthmus.

For there was, of course, always the chance that this might be a part of
the sunken Island of Mona. But Wade would not credit this.

“It is the isthmus,” he declared; “of that I am very sure. Now, to
locate its coasts and contour. This can only be done by following it.”

So the Diver sailed slowly on, it being an easy matter to trace the line
of the sunken shore.

“Which way shall we go first?” asked Frank. “To Cape San Antonio or to
Cape Catoche?”

“To the last,” replied Wade; “then we’ll come back and make a sure thing
of the lines.”

Over the deep defiles and rocky heights the submarine boat sailed slowly
on.

The searchlight was kept at work, flashing hither and thither, and every
new object of interest was carefully studied.

Soon the topography of the Sunken Isthmus began to change. The rocky
hills sloped gradually away into a plain.

Here the Diver descended very close to the bed of the sea and Wade
outlined quite distinctly the original coast.

The sinking of the earth’s crust, which had resulted in this submersion
of the isthmus, was not to be easily explained. Some internal revolution
was very likely responsible for it.

“Now,” cried Wade, after some careful study, “let us change our course
to the south; I would like to know the exact width of the isthmus.”

The Diver’s course was changed accordingly. For four hours it sailed
over the deep-sea plain. Then indications were plainly seen which told
that this was the southern extremity of the isthmus.

“Fifty miles,” announced Frank, as he consulted the gauge; “that is the
breadth of the isthmus at this point.”

“It is probably the average breadth,” said Wade, “although it is not
impossible that it may have been wider in some other localities.”

The course was now changed to the east. It was not a great distance to
the Cuban coast.

Half a day’s steady deep-sea sailing showed the usual signs of the
surface, and Frank brought the Diver to a stop just over a jagged reef
of coral.

There were great reaches of sand before them which trended upwards. That
they ultimately rose above the surface in the form of a beach there was
no doubt.

“We have reached the end of the isthmus,” declared Frank, “or at least
that end which once joined the Cuban isle.”

“To make sure of it,” said Wade, “suppose we rise to the surface.”

Frank touched the tank-lever and the boat sprung upward. The next moment
it was above the surface.

But all was darkness upon the sea. The hour was 4 A. M. and the sun had
not yet colored the east.

But Frank turned on the searchlight and showed the cliffs distant not
quite a half mile. That it was the Cuban isle there could be little
doubt.

However, to make sure, the Diver lay-to off the coast until daybreak.
Then bearings were taken. A small pearl-fishing sloop passed near.

Wade hailed it and learned for a fact that the coast was that of Cuba.
Then he said:

“Let us go back to the deep sea. I ask only to follow the isthmus to the
peninsula of Yucatan. All doubt will then be settled. My friend,
Professor Brown, will then be very willing to admit his error.”

“He will if he is not pig-headed,” said Frank.

He was about to touch the tank-lever when Barney from the deck, gave a
sudden sharp cry:

“Whurroo, Misther Frank, shure, it’s a sail off to windward!”

“A sail?”

Frank and Wade gazed in that direction. Then both gave a violent start.
A small schooner was seen bearing down upon the Diver.

Wade’s eyes dilated.

“It is the Meta!” he exclaimed; “they are making for us!”

This was the truth. Hardy Poole’s piratical schooner it was, and they
had sighted the submarine boat.

She was bearing down rapidly, with all sails set. Frank and his
companions watched the schooner with some curiosity.

But Frank knew that it would never do for the schooner to come within
cannon shot. One ball striking the submarine boat would be likely to
ruin her.

So he ran up a signal flag of defiance. It was seen by Poole, and a
cannon was fired in reply.

Then the voyagers skipped into the cabin and Frank sent the Diver to the
bottom.

Westward now over the sunken isthmus her prow was turned. For hours she
kept on.

Toward night the place where they had first descended was reached. Here
a stop was made.

Thus far the trip was a glowing success. No serious mishap had marred
the project.

But could the submarine voyagers have read the future they would have
experienced not a little of fear and dread apprehension.

Thrilling events were in store.

So far there had been discovered no indication or logical evidence of
the possible existence of inhabitants on the isthmus in former days.
Wade was not a little disappointed.

But when he remembered that there was yet a goodly distance between them
and the Yucatan coast he did not altogether lose faith.

He hoped for the best.

All were somewhat exhausted with the incidents of the past forty-eight
hours, so they were glad enough to turn in, Barney being left on guard,
to be relieved by Pomp later in the night.

This was the usual arrangement.

Barney was completely exhausted himself, and in spite of his efforts to
the contrary fell asleep at his post.

He was far advanced into the mystic Land of Nod when a startling thing
happened.

From the gloom of a defile near there appeared a monster black form. It
glided once or twice around the Diver as if to size it up.

The creature’s powerful curiosity was aroused and it ventured into the
glare of the searchlight.

It was a strange creature.

Had Barney been awake he would have seen a monster specimen of a fish
which seemed a cross between a shark and a whale. But he failed to see
it at that moment, though he speedily became aware of its proximity.




                              CHAPTER VII.
                         A SERIOUS CATASTROPHE.


The curious fish passed several times around the Diver. Then it drew off
with an apparent air of offended dignity and aroused jealousy.

What right had this unknown creature to venture into these waters? It
looked as if this was the reasoning of the huge fish.

Whether it was or not, one thing was certain. The creature had made up
its mind to attack the submarine boat.

Steadily it drew back, flopping its huge flukes, until finally it
stopped and was motionless a moment.

Then it darted forward.

Barney was in the midst of a beautiful dream of home when suddenly he
felt himself flying through space. Then it seemed as if he was coming in
contact with a legion of hard objects and sharp corners.

In an instant he was wide awake. It required a moment for him to collect
his scattered senses.

Then he realized that the boat was moving. It was flying upward like a
rocket and suddenly popped up onto the surface of the sea.

The Celt, astounded beyond measure, rushed into the pilot-house. There
he saw that things were thrown all about.

There was a dent in the wall of the structure large enough to force the
electric keyboard from its post. The wires were all tangled up or
disconnected and the tank-lever had been closed by the shock.

“Mither presarve us!” muttered the Celt. “Phwat the divil happened?”

At that moment Frank and Pomp and Wade came rushing in.

“For mercy’s sake, what struck us, Barney?” cried the young inventor.
“What’s the matter?”

“Shure, sor—I—that is—it must have been an airthquake, sor!”

“More likely an avalanche,” declared Wade. “Heigho! how came we on the
surface?”

“Golly, look at dat keyb’d!” ejaculated Pomp.

Frank gazed at Barney.

“What was the cause of this, sir?” he asked, sternly. “Why don’t you
speak?”

Poor Barney!

Cold sweat stood out upon his brow. He knew that he had been guilty of a
serious misdemeanor. A culpable act of negligence.

“Shure, sor—I—I—don’t know,” he stammered.

“You don’t know?” exclaimed Frank, severely. “Were you not on guard?”

“Yis, sor.”

“And you don’t know what caused all this wreckage?”

“Well, sor, somethin’ must av sthruck the boat, sor—an’—I didn’t see
phwat it was, sor.”

Frank looked keenly at the Celt.

“Tell me truly,” he said; “were you asleep?”

It was against Barney’s principle to lie.

“Yis, sor,” he replied.

Frank turned away.

“That is enough!” he said, reproachfully. “I thought I could trust you.”

With his nerves tingling with shame, Barney slunk away. But Frank
uttered no further words of censure, for he knew that the poor fellow
was wellnigh warranted in his negligence, for he was extremely
exhausted.

Still, he should have kept awake.

The Diver rocked in the rolling waves of the sea. The night was as dark
as a pocket.

Frank would have sent the boat to the bottom again, but he soon found
that he was unable to do this. The lever was out of order.

In order to locate the break he would be obliged to put hours of hard
work into the task. He decided to wait for daylight.

So he put Pomp on watch and then all retired again to their slumbers.
The coon was not in danger of sleeping after what had happened to
Barney.

He paced the deck of the Diver and kept a close watch of the sea. It was
in that interval of darkness just before the dawn that he saw a light
off the port bow.

It seemed to come from the masthead of a distant vessel and was a
colored light. The coon watched it.

When he saw it was drawing nearer he started to call Frank, but he
changed his mind a moment later.

The unknown craft passed to windward and the light suddenly vanished and
was not seen again.

Morning came and brought a surprise. The first thing Pomp’s eager eyes
rested on was a dark hull off to the southward.

It was a small vessel bearing down toward the Diver.

Pomp gave a sharp look at it and then muttered:

“Fo’ de lan’s sake, I done beliebe dat am dat piratical schooner. Reckon
Frank bettah see ‘bout dat.”

But Frank was already coming on deck.

He met the excited darky, and seeing his trepidation, asked:

“What’s the matter now, Pomp?”

“A heap de mattah, sah. I reckon dat ole schooner am comin’ fo’ us
again.”

Frank gave a violent start.

“Is that so?” he ejaculated. “Why, we seem fated to be followed by her.
It will hardly be safe to fall in with her in our present condition,
either.”

“Yo’ am right, sah.”

Wade was just behind Frank.

“Eh, what’s that?” he asked. “You don’t mean to say that that accursed
schooner has overtaken us again?”

“Dat am so, sah,” replied Pomp.

“That is very bad.”

Frank and Wade went to the rail with their glasses. It did not require
much of a scrutiny to determine that Pomp was right.

It was the Meta, and she had evidently sighted the Diver. She was coming
on with all sails spread.

“By Jove!” exclaimed Frank, “she will be down onto us in a jiffy. We
must get out of here right away.”

“For a fact!” agreed Wade. “What shall we do, Frank? We cannot sink the
boat, can we?”

“No,” replied the young inventor. “Our only hope is to run away from her
until we can get our tank machinery repaired.”

“But is not the other machinery out of order, too? Have you tried the
motor-lever yet?”

Frank’s face paled.

“No,” he admitted, “but I think it will be all right. We will soon know
the truth now!”

It must be confessed that with some feeling of trepidation and doubt
Frank now entered the pilot-house. He tried to adjust the shattered
keyboard.

And now he saw that a great peril threatened! The motor-lever would not
work. The electric lights even could not be shut off.

There was no way to start the machinery of the boat without restoring
the keyboard connection. This would require some hours of hard work.

In the meantime the Meta was rapidly coming down upon them. Frank
shivered as he thought of this.

He regretted now that he had not at once set about repairing the
machinery the night before. But it was of no use to cry over spilled
milk.

Something must be done, and that at once.

Wade came into the pilot-house white as chalk.

“They mean to sink us!” he gasped; “they have just fired a shot across
our stern. When they get our range they will certainly hit us!”

“Run up a signal,” replied Frank, hastily. “You must temporize with
them. Partly accede to their terms. Anything to gain time.”

And Frank began work at once upon the keyboard. Wade took the tip and
rushed out on deck.

The Meta was now within easy cannon shot. She was training her gun again
when Wade ran up a signal flag.

It implied a parley, and at once the Meta answered it.

“Begorra, I only wish we had our electric gun wid us!” cried Barney.
“Shure, we’d jist play wid thim, yez kin be sure!”

But Wade knew well that their only hope was a shrewd game of policy. He
went back to the pilot-house.

“How much time do you want, Frank?” he asked.

“At least two hours,” replied the young inventor. “Send Barney here to
me.”

Barney came, and together they worked at repairing the keyboard. Wade
went back to the deck.

The Meta had signaled again. Wade answered the signal.

Then the schooner drew within hailing distance. Wade had resolved upon a
daring and diplomatic move.

“Ahoy, the Diver!” came across the water in Poole’s voice.

“Ahoy, the Meta!” replied Wade.

“You signaled us for a parley?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what is it?”

“We have considered your terms,” replied Wade. “Send a boat over and
I’ll come and talk with you.”

There was a thrill of exultation in Poole’s voice as he replied:

“I thought you would reach a sensible decision. I will send a boat.”

A few moments later a boat put off from the schooner. Wade went into the
cabin.

His purpose was wholly to gain time. It required fifteen minutes for the
boat to cross the intervening distance.

Then Wade kept them waiting at the gangway fifteen minutes. When he
appeared he managed to squander some time getting into the boat.

Then it required fully twenty minutes to pull back to the schooner
against the strong wind. Nearly an hour was thus consumed.

Mounting to the deck Wade met Poole politely, but he did not fail to see
the cunning and treacherous light in the villain’s eye.

“Where is Mr. Reade?” asked the treasure-hunter, in surprise.

“He is indisposed, and has authorized me to act in his place,” said
Wade, wincing a little at this white lie. It seemed to satisfy Poole,
however.

“Come into the cabin,” he said.

Wade leisurely followed him. He affected a desire to smoke and proffered
Poole a cigar. Some time was thus consumed, and fully a quarter of an
hour was passed before Poole was able to say:

“Well, have you decided to come to my terms?”

“We have talked the matter all over,” said Wade, shrewdly; “and we have
decided to accept your story as the truth, though you will pardon me if
I say that this was not the case when we first heard you tell it.”

The villain looked astonished.




                             CHAPTER VIII.
                         THE VILLAIN OUTWITTED.


“Oh!” he ejaculated. “Then you didn’t believe me?”

“Of course, you will understand,” said Wade, diplomatically, “that such
a story from the lips of a stranger looked a bit large. We must be
excused for a bit of incredulity.”

The villain’s face lit up.

“But you believe it now?” he asked.

“It looks more plausible,” admitted Wade. “We are prepared to accept it
as true.”

“I am glad you have come to your senses,” growled the villain. “I
haven’t any hard feelings against you, though it was pretty hard usage
you gave me on board my own vessel.”

“We acted, as we believed, in self-defense.”

“Well, I reckon so. However, we’ll let by-gones be by-gones. In regard
to this offer of mine—do you accept it? One-fifth of the gold shall be
yours for the recovery of it.”

“Do you reckon that a fair share?” asked Wade, diplomatically.

The villain swore horribly.

“Why is it not?” he cried. “I am sure that you could get no better terms
from any one. It will make you all rich enough.”

Wade feigned avarice.

“I think we ought to have half,” he said.

Poole uttered a frightful oath.

“Well, you will never get half!” he cried, “nor nobody else.” Then,
after a moment’s thought: “Well, I’ll do a little better. I’ll give you
one-fourth.”

Wade took a notebook from his pocket and wrote down all in serious
fashion.

“Now,” he said, “for other terms. You are to show us the place, and we
are to dive for the gold.”

Poole rubbed his hands.

“Yes, yes!” he said, briskly, “but there is a stipulation.”

“Oh!”

“You must allow me and two of my men to go down with you while the gold
is being taken up!”

Wade jotted this down.

“What else?” he asked.

“That’s all. What are you doing?”

“I am making a report to present to Mr. Reade. I will give him these
terms and return with an answer as quickly as possible. Have no
apprehension. He will be quite likely to accept the terms.”

Poole looked annoyed.

“I thought you came prepared to accept them?” he said.

“No, sir!” replied Wade, decisively. “Mr. Reade is the master of the
submarine boat.”

“And you are his envoy?”

“Yes.”

“Tell him to come himself next time. I don’t feel like being trifled
with. Be quick as you can about the answer.”

“I will report at once!” replied Wade, with a manner which belied his
words. “Have another cigar.”

“No; confound your cigars!”

“Sir!”

“Excuse me, but I am nervous over this situation. Bring me an answer as
quick as you can.”

Wade pretended to hurry to the gangway. Then he got into the boat. He
had been forty minutes aboard the schooner.

The men bent to their oars and rowed to the gangway of the Diver. Wade
turned to them and said:

“You are to wait here for me; do not get impatient.”

Then he went into the pilot-house. Frank and Barney were puffing like
beavers, amid a heap of debris.

“How is it?” asked Wade.

“You are a brick!” cried Frank. “There is only one more nut to adjust.
What did you do?”

Wade told his story.

Frank was delighted.

“We will send him an answer,” he said. “I will write it.”

He sprung into his private cabin and wrote a hasty note as follows:

    “DEAR CAPTAIN POOLE: My friend Wade has brought me your terms.
    They are hardly liberal enough. However, if I decide to accept
    them, will let you know at an early day. Very respectfully,

                                                     FRANK READE, JR.”

Wade could not help a chuckle.

“How he will swear!” he said. “He will be as mad as a hornet.”

“But he will not be able to injure us,” said Frank, “for, thanks to your
skillful diplomacy, the Diver is all right once more.”

Frank went into the gangway and handed the letter to the coxswain.

“This is for your captain,” he said; “deliver it to him immediately.”

“All right, sir.”

The boat shot away. When it was twenty yards distant Frank cried:

“Into the cabin, everybody! We’re going down!”

The order was obeyed. The doors and Windows were closed instantly.

Then Frank touched the tank-valve. There was a sudden quivering of the
boat, and down she went like a flash.

Poole, standing on his schooner’s deck, was astounded.

When a few moments later he read the message sent him he was more than
furious.

“Curse the luck!” he cried. “What stupidity in me! I ought to have held
that fellow as a hostage. They will go and recover the gold themselves
now. Up sails, men! Bear away at the tiller there! We must be the first
to reach the spot. If the water is not too deep our diving suits will be
as good as their boat.”

The Diver went down quickly to the bottom of the sea. No sooner,
however, had the sandy bottom come into view than another peril
presented itself.

A huge monster shot out of a dark defile.

It was the same giant fish which had attacked the boat once before.
Frank saw him coming.

He at once suspected that this was the fellow who had dented the shell
of the pilot-house. He saw the risk of another collision.

“Look out!” he shouted. “We may hit that fellow.”

In the stem of the submarine boat was a long steel ram. This was
provided with electric communication with the dynamos.

Frank had foreseen just such an exigency.

He knew that if he could only strike the fish with this heavily-charged
ram the trouble would be quickly over. The monster would be sure to
succumb.

So he turned the boat about as quickly as possible to meet the fish. He
partly succeeded.

The cetacean struck the boat just abaft her bow. For a moment the
partial shock it received dazed it.

The boat was flung almost upon its side, but as it righted Frank
instantly brought it about and drove it forward.

The ram struck the cetacean in the gills. It literally tore these away
and the monster turned over dead. It was a signal victory.

“Whew!” exclaimed Wade. “I would not care to meet many of that fellow’s
stripe. He is quite a match for the Diver.”

“There are many heavier monsters in the deep sea,” declared Frank. “We
may run across a worse tussle yet.”

“I hope not.”

However, the coast was clear once more. The Diver ascended the ragged,
rocky hills and passed over what was really a mountain range.

For what Frank reckoned as a distance of twenty miles, the submarine
boat kept on thus.

Then the sunken isthmus began to undergo a change.

Rolling land spread out beneath them, and suddenly Wade clutched Frank’s
arm.

“Look!” he gasped; “just what I expected.”

“A submarine city!”

“Just so!”

The spectacle presented to the view of the voyagers was a remarkable
one. There in the heart of the rolling country was unmistakably the
walls and housetops, streets and squares of a city.

But the streets were silent, the windows and doors deserted and kelp and
debris clung to all. It was a marvelous spectacle.

What curious reflections might be drawn from this spectacle!

Here was once a thickly-populated center. In these dismal streets a
people thronged, here trade flourished and society held sway.

What manner of people the lost inhabitants were could only be imagined.
But that they were wellnigh the mark of civilization was certain.

In one fell hour their great mass of human souls had been swept into
eternity!

The waters had rushed remorselessly over all, and in the mad vortex life
had counted for naught. What tragedies were there enacted upon this
spot! What moments of horror preceded the dread event!

Instinctively these thoughts came to all as they gazed upon the sunken
city. Perhaps Wade was the most deeply impressed.

The Diver sailed slowly down over the sunken city.

Frank selected a broad square near one of the open gates and allowed the
submarine boat to rest upon the bottom.

Then he focused the searchlight upon the entire length of a broad street
before them.

“Here we are, Wade,” he said. “Now is your chance for archæological
research.”

“Just so,” agreed the scientist. “I judge these people a branch of the
old race which built Palenque and other Yucatan cities. I fear we shall
find but slight clews to guide us.”

“Then you reckon that time and the action of the salt water has removed
everything of value?” asked Frank.

“Everything but the bare walls of the buildings,” replied Wade.
“However, we can make a little exploring tour, if you are willing.”

“I shall be glad,” replied Frank. “Barney, bring up the diving-suits.”

“All roight, sor.”

The Celt disappeared in the after-cabin. Very soon he came back with the
suits.

There were two of them, and they were of an unusual pattern.

The usual diving-suit, as we all know, is operated by means of an
air-pump and life-line, but these suits were the special invention of
Frank Reade, Jr.

They consisted simply of a very heavy helmet, with connections with a
square box-like case, which was strapped on the back.

This was the chemical generator, which furnished plenty of pure air for
the diver for an indefinite period of time.




                              CHAPTER IX.
                            THE SUNKEN CITY.


The diving-suits were a very clever invention. They were superior to the
old style for the fact that the diver had free use of his limbs and was
hampered by no life-line or tube.

Frank gave instruction to Barney and Pomp to remain aboard the Diver and
keep a good watch of the two divers all the while. Then he helped Wade
to don his suit and put on his own.

They were now ready to leave the boat.

This was accomplished in an ingenious manner. Of course, it would be
impossible to merely open a door and step out.

Water would rush in and flood the cabin.

But Frank had provided a vestibule with two doors, one opening into the
cabin and the other out on deck.

He had merely to enter the vestibule and close the cabin door. Then, by
turning a valve, the vestibule would fill with water. It was easy then
to open the outer door and walk out.

The return was accomplished much the same, though the pressure of a
lever set the force-pump at work and cleared the water from the
vestibule in quick time.

Frank and Wade entered the vestibule, and a few moments later were out
on the vessel’s deck.

They clambered down the side and stood upon the pavement of the sunken
city.

It was a strange sensation.

Probably no other men living could boast of the same experience. Down
the street of the sunken city they walked.

It required Wade some little time to get used to the pressure, he being
inexperienced.

But soon he had overcome the unpleasant sensation and was quite himself
again. Together they strolled along the thoroughfare.

There was no conversation, for one could not have heard the other speak
at that depth. Moreover, the helmets deadened the sound.

But conversation could be carried on by placing the two helmets close
together and shouting. This was only resorted to in case of necessity.

The buildings of the sunken city were of two stories only and not at all
pretentious—like the ruins of Palenque.

But there was one higher-arched structure, just back from the street,
which claimed their attention.

There was a quantity of curious carving and scroll-work in its front.
Frank concluded that it must be either a palace or a temple.

He was determined to ascertain.

Motioning to Wade he entered the place. The scientist was not slow to
follow him.

Each wore upon his helmet a small electric globe. This made objects
plain in the place.

As they passed through the great portico it was easy to see at once what
sort of a place it was. For a moment they were spellbound.

It was unquestionably a temple.

In front of them was a broad dais of stone. Upon this there rested a
gigantic and grotesque image. It was plainly an idol.

The ancient inhabitants of the sunken city were then idolators. This
fact was settled.

The idol was fully fifteen feet in height, and in shape was a cross
between a sphynx and satyr. Its eyes were of some brilliant stone.

Around the temple were other idols of various sizes. Each had its dais,
and there were the worn hollows in the stone made by the knees of
kneeling thousands.

Frank placed his helmet close to Wade’s and shouted:

“Is this discovery of value to you?”

“Much!” replied the scientist; “it establishes the fact of idolatry, and
also that these people were much like the Aztecs and worshiped the same
gods. There are the idols Quetzal and Quetzalcoatl. They are Aztec
gods.”

“That is certainly a great point,” replied Frank. “Yonder I can see some
hieroglyphics on a stone. Is it possible to read them?”

“I am not familiar enough with Aztec cryptography,” said Wade. “I shall
not attempt it.”

But another discovery was made.

Before the large idol was a broad and richly carved altar. Below it was
a pit for the reception of the blood of the victims.

The two explorers gazed upon this gruesome object with a thrill.

“Many a poor wretch has gone to his doom on that stony surface,”
declared Frank. “What barbarity!”

“True,” agreed Wade; “the ancient ideas of sacrifice were something
simply savage.”

No small object of any kind of metal could be found. Every vestige of
any material but stone had been absorbed by time and the water.

So Wade could find no other specimen to take with him but a small idol,
which he placed in his pocket.

“I shall keep this for a talisman,” he declared. “Perhaps it will bring
me good luck!”

“I believe I will do the same,” said Frank; “so here goes.”

He also took one of the idols. Then they left the temple.

Once out upon the street again they began to look for another object of
interest.

This soon turned up.

Passing through a sort of peristyle they came out into a large court, in
the center of which was a large basin. Here no doubt a fountain had once
played.

This court had no doubt once been the scene of magnificence. There was
every indication of it.

Statues of the nude adorned its circle. These were hardly to be compared
with Grecian sculpture, but they represented a very good knowledge of
the art.

Instinctively both men pictured the place as it might once have been.

Flowering trees and shrubs, noble palms and trailing vines had once made
the spot beautiful.

The sunlight had once glinted in upon these alabaster walls, with their
setting of beautiful green. It had given light to a gay assemblage of
dark-skinned people, and fell upon the state throne of the king.

For this stood at one end of the court just as it must have stood in
those old days. It was a great chair of carven stone, with a canopy over
it, or at least the frame where the canopy had once been.

But nothing was left of all this magnificence but the bare walls. These
alone were imperishable.

Only their marble sides and columns remained. All else was dust.

Time and the action of the water had worn them away.

“This is probably the king’s palace,” said Frank; “don’t you think so?”

“Yes,” agreed Wade. “I tell you these were no ordinary people.”

“I believe you.”

But they did not conduct their research much further.

There were chambers beyond the whole interior of the sunken palace, but
the two explorers had seen enough.

Frank began to wonder if all was well aboard the Diver, and as for Wade,
his head ached to bursting.

So Frank said:

“Have you gone far enough, Wade?”

The scientist nodded his head.

“Yes,” he said, “I am satisfied. Let us go back.”

Frank was glad to lead the way out again into the street. They then
turned their footsteps toward the submarine boat.

Barney and Pomp were waiting for them. Straight to the gangway they
came.

In a few moments they were safe in the cabin once more. The trip had
been a success.

But Wade was still looking ahead, and was anxious to continue on his way
along the isthmus.

So the Diver arose and headed for awhile over the sunken city. Then it
left it behind.

The presence of the sunken city settled a number of facts. It was true
beyond peradventure that there had once been an isthmus between Capes
San Antonio and Catoche.

It was also certain that there had once dwelt upon it a race of people
of great intelligence. That the sea had wiped all out of existence was
certain.

Wade studied the matter thoroughly and most scientifically. So he said
to Frank:

“I have seen enough; let us go along.”

“All right,” agreed Frank. “A due west course is sure to bring us to
Yucatan.”

“Very true,” agreed Wade, “but above all things go well armed and
prepared for trouble. I feel sure that we have not seen the last of that
schooner!”

The young inventor could not help a laugh at Wade’s earnestness.

“That is your bugbear,” he said. “How are they going to injure us at
this depth of the sea? They have only the very crudest of diving-suits.”

“I don’t know,” replied Wade, “but I cannot help a feeling of that sort.
I believe we have not seen the last of Poole.”

“It is a little curious that we have not as yet come to the sunken
isle,” said Frank. “That I must regard as only a small part of the
isthmus which did not sink in the first earthquake.”

“Beyond a doubt,” agreed Wade. “In that case we shall certainly come
across it.”

“We will keep a lookout. It should be in about this latitude.”

The course they were pursuing was along the northern shore of the
isthmus. It was easy to follow its conformation.

As Frank had declared, they could not be far from the sunken Isle of
Mona. And, indeed, a few hours later they came upon precipitous bluffs
and forests of decaying trees.

The island was beneath them. There was no doubt of this. The voyagers
were alive with the keenest of interest.

Ordinarily there would have been but a scant desire to search for the
buried treasure. But their experience with Poole had aroused their
interest.

Frank had a strong inclination to visit the scene of the treasure hunt.
So he held the Diver closely along the island and shore.

It was remembered that Poole had described the gold cave as upon the
northern shore. When attacked by the Caribs he and his companions had
escaped in their boat, so it could not have been far from the surf to
the cave.

It should, therefore, be easy to find. Barney and Pomp were especially
on the lookout.




                               CHAPTER X.
                         AT THE TREASURE CAVE.


Slowly and steadily the Diver crept along the shore of the sunken
island. The voyagers were on the qui vive.

“Perhaps Poole is there before us,” said Wade. “He has had plenty of
time.”

But Frank was incredulous.

“I don’t believe it,” he said. “It would take him a long while to locate
the exact spot. Hello! what is that?”

A dark object loomed up before the gaze of the voyagers. It required but
a moment’s scrutiny to make it out as the hull of a sunken vessel.

It lay upon the shore of the sunken isle, and might have foundered at
the time of the earthquake. She was a small schooner of the coast
trading class.

The submarine boat sailed near to her and the searchlight was focused
upon her. But there seemed no good reason for paying her a visit, so
presently she was left behind.

But now developments came in swift order. Rounding a headland the Diver
came upon a collection of partly demolished huts and other evidences of
habitation. This was doubtless the village of the savage Caribs who had
descended upon the gold hunters.

Wade was now much excited.

“We ought to be getting near the spot where the treasure is located,” he
said. “I surely hope so!”

A few moments later a long cliff-wall was reached. Then a huge,
dark-mouthed cavern yawned to view.

“Down with the boat!” cried Frank. “Let her rest here, Barney. This is
the spot beyond doubt.”

The order was obeyed. The submarine boat rested upon the sands and
hastily preparations were made for leaving the cabin.

As usual Barney and Pomp were left aboard. Frank and Wade quickly donned
their diving-suits.

Then they left the cabin and soon were striding along the beach. They
had not gone a dozen yards before Wade paused.

There, imbedded in the sand, was a skeleton. The fishes had long since
eaten away all but the bones. Whether it was the skeleton of one of the
gold hunters or a Carib it was not easy to guess.

Other skeletons were also found in the vicinity. Then they reached the
mouth of the cave.

Here were found the rusted digging tools of the gold diggers. Also a
huge cavity in the cavern floor was revealed.

And partly upon its verge there was a huge chest, with one end knocked
out. In the chest was a heap of round objects. They were coins.

Much corroded they were, and as Frank and Wade picked up several of them
it was hard to tell whether they were gold or merely silver.

There were others strewn in the sands of the cavern. The cavity in the
sands did not seem to contain any other chest.

If this was the total amount of the treasure it certainly was small, and
did not greatly pay for the effort to recover it. However, Frank and
Wade had begun to make preparations to remove it when a startling thing
happened.

Suddenly into the cavern there flashed a light. Astonished the two
divers turned. Two forms were at the entrance.

It required but a glance to see that they were divers. Moreover, they
wore the common diving-suit, hampered with life-lines and cords. In an
instant the truth burst upon Frank and Wade.

They were beyond doubt members of the crew of the Meta. Indeed, Poole
himself doubtless was one of them.

Frank and Wade placed their helmets together tightly.

“By Jove!” cried the young inventor, “we’re in a scrape now!”

“You’re right, Frank. I believe one of them is Poole himself.”

“There is little doubt of it.”

“What shall we do?”

“There is no way but to face them.”

“Will it be safe? Will they not attack us?”

“It is likely; but I can see no way to evade them.”

“Then we must defend ourselves!”

“Just so; our chances are as good as theirs, and we have an advantage in
having no life-lines to bother us. Come along, we might as well meet
them half way!”

Poole and his men, for there were now four of the divers in the cavern,
had caught sight of Frank and Wade.

It could be easily seen from their actions that they were frantic and
would present a hostile front. But Frank and Wade gripped the handles of
their axes and marched steadily on.

In a few moments they were near the other divers. One of them was
recognized as Poole.

The villain was the personification of fury. He swung his ax aloft and
made a rush at Frank.

His companions did the same. It was fortunate for our friends that they
did not come to close quarters. They evaded the attack, for they could
move more easily.

Frank’s purpose was to get out of the cavern. He knew that if they were
hemmed in there, their fate would be sealed.

So he motioned Wade to follow him, and, parrying Poole’s attack, hurled
one of his foes back and with a swift rush gained the object. Wade came
close behind him.

Once outside the cavern the danger was over. The rascals could follow
them but a limited ways.

Back to the submarine boat Frank and Wade rushed. They clambered aboard
and soon were in the cabin.

Barney and Pomp were astonished.

“Fo’ de lan’s sake,” cried the coon, “wha’ am de mattah? Wha’ hab
happened?”

“Well, Pomp,” replied Wade, “we fell in with Poole again, as I feared we
would. We gave him the slip, though.”

“Begorra, yez don’t say!” exclaimed Barney, in amazement. “Shure,
howiver did the omadhouns git down here?”

Wade told the story, to the edification of Barney and Pomp. Meanwhile,
Frank had been examining specimens of the coins which he had found.

Wade went over to him.

“Well,” he asked, “what do you make of them, Frank?”

“Nothing but silver,” he said. “A heap of pistareens—that is all.”

The scientist was astonished.

“Mercy!” he exclaimed; “what a disappointment that will be to Poole! He
declared that millions in gold were buried in that cavern.”

“So his avarice is repaid,” said Frank, with a laugh. “Poor wretch! Let
him have his treasure and all the good it may do him.”

“Then you will not interfere?”

“Certainly not.”

“Good,” cried Wade. “Let us then go on to Yucatan and finish our
exploration of the sunken isthmus. We will leave Mr. Poole to the
exclusive enjoyment of his much-vaunted treasure.”

“Just so,” said Frank. “Start the engines, Barney; let us get under
way.”

Barney hastened to obey. As the Diver sailed away to the westward the
searchlight was focused upon the cavern mouth.

There a curious scene was revealed.

Poole and his men were digging in the sands for the coins scattered by
the Caribs. They seemed to act like madmen, so strong was the treasure
fever upon them.

The submarine voyagers were glad to leave the sunken Isle of Mona behind
them. The Diver glided on through the deep sea.

They made rapid course now toward Yucatan. The course was very easy to
follow, the sunken isthmus being an established fact.

Many beautiful sights were daily witnessed in the sea depths. Many
strange specimens were secured.

But no incident of a thrilling sort occurred until one day they had
arrived within a few miles of Cape Catoche, as Frank estimated by his
measurement of distance.

“It should be in sight,” he declared, “if we were on the surface.”

“Why not rise and take a sight at it to make sure?” asked Wade.

“We can,” agreed Frank.

So he stepped into the pilot-house and touched the lever. The next
moment the submarine boat was flying upward.

Up out of the briny deep she shot, but the moment she emerged a
disappointment was in store.

They had expected to sight the rugged headland of Cape Catoche directly
in front of them, but they were in the midst of an impenetrable fog.

No object could be seen ten yards away. It was a discouraging
predicament.

“Well!” ejaculated Wade, “here is a pretty how-do-ye-do! What is to be
done?”

“I reckon we bettah wait fo’ de fog to lift, sah!” suggested Pomp.

“Bejabers, it may be a good while at that,” averred Barney.

“Oh, I think not,” said Wade. “What shall it be, Frank?”

“We will lay-to for a short while,” said the young inventor. “There can
be no harm in that.”

So the Diver continued to rock upon the swelling surface of the sea,
while the voyagers at times tried to pierce the fog with their eyes.

Perhaps an hour had passed thus when a curious thing happened. Out of
the fog there came plainly to the hearing of all, voices raised in
laughter and jest.

They seemed but a few yards away, and startled, the submarine voyagers
instinctively looked, with the expectation of seeing a vessel bear down
upon them out of the fog.

But none appeared.

One moment the voices appeared to sound in one quarter, and then they
would change to another, even sounding directly overhead.

“Begorra, that’s quare,” cried Barney; “shure, they’re niver in the same
place at all, at all. They must be thraveling around us, an’ divil a bit
do I loike it! Shure, it’s a sorry place for banshees, but on me loife
it may be that same!”

“Nonsense,” said Frank, sharply, “it is a common enough phenomenon, and
due to the fog.”

“Right,” cried Wade. “Somewhere near us a ship is anchored and her crew
are doubtless whiling away the time in games and pleasure. A peculiar
condition of the atmosphere brings their voices to us.”

“Dat am berry funny,” said Pomp, in mystified tones.

“Begorra, yez are roight,” averred Barney.

But the voices presently died away, becoming fainter and fainter. Then
the fog was seen to be in motion.

Gradually it lifted and the sea was seen north, south and east of them,
but to the west there was a long line of coast.

A bold headland rose to view, and with a thrill of joy Wade cried:

“That is Cape Catoche. We have thoroughly explored the sunken isthmus.
Our expedition has been a success. We have rendered science a mighty
service, and have good reason to feel proud of it.”




                              CHAPTER XI.
                        POOLE PLAYS A NEW CARD.


Down in the ocean depths, Poole and his men had been at work digging out
the supposed mighty treasure of the Isle of Mona.

Every skeleton was unearthed and the sand around it closely sifted. Thus
the coins were recovered.

Also further excavations were made in the cavern, but without success.

However, believing the coins to be gold, the villain was fairly well
satisfied. He piled them into the chest and had it hoisted aboard the
schooner.

“Ha,” he muttered, “I was just in time to foil those dogs. They were
sure of beating me, but Hardy Poole has staked too much upon this game
to lose. Curse them, I will some day have a chance to settle the score
with them.”

With this venomous decision he removed his diving-suit and had begun to
examine his treasure when an incident occurred.

One of the men who had been in the shrouds cried:

“Sail ho!”

“What?” cried Poole, with a sudden start. “Bearing our way?”

“Yes.”

“What does she look like?”

“She looks like a fast craft, sir. Most likely a coast guard vessel,”
was the reply.

“Change course. Bear nor’-nor’-west!” ordered the villain. “We don’t
want to fall in with any Cuban cruiser just now.”

The schooner lay about on the new course. She was a fairly fast sailer
and cut the water rapidly.

But in a few moments the man aloft again shouted:

“Ahoy, the chase!”

“Eh?” roared Poole. “Is she giving us a chase?”

“That she is, sir, and she is gaining on us. She has steam up and can
sail two knots to our one.”

“A steam vessel!” gasped Poole. “Then she is certainly a Cuban cruiser.
She takes us for a filibuster. If she overtakes us nothing will convince
her that we are not and our jig is up! Ho, there, all aloft and crowd on
sail! We must make a run for it! If she overhauls us——”

“Well?” asked one of the men.

Poole’s grim face hardened.

“We will fight for it!” he said, “for they will never take the treasure
from us while we live.”

The crew cheered at this bold declaration and then scampered aloft.
Meanwhile Poole watched the distant steamer with varied sensations.

“Just our luck,” he muttered. “By the gods, I believe I am cursed by
fate! Let them overhaul us, curse them! We will give them all the fight
they want.”

Then he went back to the cabin and began to gloat over the treasure. He
picked up one of the coins and scraped away the rust and mold. Then he
snapped his eyes.

How was this?

It was white metal instead of yellow—silver instead of gold!

If all that bulk of coin was silver, its value was but small; if of
gold, it would be immense. Quite a difference. He dropped the coin with
a grunt.

He picked up another and scratched its surface. It was also silver.

Another and another. Then a sickening sensation came over him, and he
smiled in a ghastly way.

“Silver!” he hissed. “Can all of them be such? Is there no gold?”

He kept at his work. It soon became apparent to him that this was a
terrible fact. He sank in a chair, with distorted features and bursting
veins.

For a moment he was apoplectic. Then great curses rolled from his lips.
He struck the table with his clenched hand.

“They have beaten me!” he hissed; “they have taken the gold and left me
the silver! Curse them! they have beaten me, but the end is not yet!”

He was too unreasonable to consider the situation logically. He could
accept but one conclusion, and this was that the submarine voyagers had
taken the gold and outwitted him.

“Why did I allow them to escape me?” he gritted. “I should have killed
them all! They were in my power! Fool! Fool!”

He raved like a maniac in his impotent wrath, frothed at the mouth, and
might have really yielded to apoplexy or some other fit had not an
interruption come.

The distant boom of a gun was heard. Poole turned a ghastly pallor.

He knew what that meant.

“They are overhauling us!” he gritted. “We are to lose even this
pittance of silver! But I will have the gold if I have to follow Frank
Reade, Jr., to the end of the earth!”

He hastened upon deck.

The cruiser had come up within gunshot and had sent a summons to
heave-to. There was no alternative but to obey or fight or go to the
bottom.

For a moment Poole considered seriously the question of a fight. He
would gladly have accepted it had the conditions been anywhere near
equal.

But the cruiser had heavier guns and more men. There was no other course
but to heave-to.

So the schooner came up to the wind, her mainsail slacked, and the two
vessels drifted within speaking distance.

“Ahoy, the schooner!” came the hail in Spanish. The Cuban flag was seen
to be flying at the yard of the cruiser.

“Ahoy!” replied Poole.

“What craft is that?”

“The Meta; pleasure yacht, under the United States flag,” replied Poole.

For a time there seemed to be a consultation held aboard the cruiser.
Then another hail came:

“Captain of the Meta, we are going to send our lieutenant aboard you!”

“What is that?” shouted Poole. “We are under the protection of the
United States flag. I warn you not to trouble us!”

A jeering laugh came back.

“Lower your gangway,” was the reply.

Then a boat slid down from the Santa Maria’s davits and six men entered
it. One in the uniform of a lieutenant entered and stood in the bow.

Another boat followed this, with a dozen armed marines. Matters began to
look serious.

The wrath and alarm felt by Poole was of the most intense description.
He was utterly powerless, though.

How he would have liked to turn his gun upon the oncoming boats and sink
them! But he did not dare to do this.

He stood savagely by the gangway, therefore, as they came on. The first
boat touched the Meta’s side, and the natty Spanish lieutenant sprung
upon deck.

“Buenas, Senor Capitan,” he said, touching his gold-laced cap, with much
politeness. “I am Carriero, lieutenant of His Majesty’s navy. I salute
you in the name of the king of Spain.”

Poole could talk Spanish fairly well, so he said:

“Well, what can I do for you, sir?”

His manner was so brusque that the dapper little Spaniard straightened
up. With an affectation of dignity, he said:

“We must search your vessel, senor!”

Then he motioned to the marines. In a moment they were over the rail and
ranged upon the deck.

The Meta was in the power of the Spanish. Poole turned black in the
face.

“What!” he roared, “you dare to board a vessel flying the United States
flag? This is an outrage and you will pay dearly for it, I promise you.”

Carriero smiled suavely in reply.

“What do you think we are?” cried Poole in desperation. “We are not
filibusters.”

Again the lieutenant smiled and bowed. Then he spoke sharp orders to his
men.

A midshipman, with two marines, invaded the forecastle. Two more went
into the forward cabin. Then the lieutenant himself, with two guards,
entered the main cabin.

Poole followed, expostulating, but it was of no use.

The vessel was thoroughly searched. Of course, the silver coins were
discovered, and also the fact made clear that the vessel carried arms.

By Carriero’s orders every gun was seized and brought out on deck. Then
the chest of treasure was also taken.

A boat was sent back to the Santa Maria, and the captain, Don Azata, was
brought off. He was a fiery, bewhiskered little fellow.

Without waste of time a court of inquiry was inaugurated on the Meta’s
deck. The decision, based upon the evidence, was quickly rendered.

The Meta had been captured in Cuban waters carrying an armament.
Certainly this was suspicious and warranted her in being condemned as a
filibustering craft.

In vain Poole protested.

The Spanish officers only smiled and discredited his statements. He kept
getting madder and madder.

Finally he yelled:

“Get off the deck of my schooner, the whole parcel of you! If you don’t
I’ll kill you!”

Grabbing an iron bar he knocked the nearest marine senseless. Don Azata
shouted fiery orders and Poole was quickly overpowered.

The little Spanish captain’s face blazed. A rope was brought. It was
decided to hang the captain of the Meta at his own yard-arm.

But at this critical moment the captain’s eyes fell upon the chest of
coins. At once he became interested. He fell to examining them.

Then he catechised Poole. The latter answered ungraciously at first.

To his surprise the Spanish captain ordered his bonds cut, and,
thrusting his eager face forward into his, said:

“It is buried treasure; you have dug it out of the ground; tell me,
senor capitan, where you found it, and I will spare your life.”

“What good will that do you?” asked Poole. “There is no more to be found
there.”

“Do you think so, senor? There must be gold where this was found. This
is but silver.”

A sudden swift thought flashed across Poole’s brain. He had abandoned
all hopes of the treasure, but he thirsted for revenge.

And here seemed a chance offered him. He accepted it.

A few moments later he was closeted in the cabin with Don Azata. He told
him the whole story of the Isle of Mona.

The Spanish captain listened.

“Perdita!” he exclaimed, “that is wonderful! But the treasure was found
upon Spanish soil, and I claim it in the name of the King of Spain. This
Captain Reade, you say, has the gold?”

“Yes,” cried Poole, “and curse him, he robbed me of it! Follow him and
wrest it from him. I will ask of you no greater favor.”

“But where shall we look for him?” asked the little captain; “in what
direction shall we sail?”

“He will be found in the neighborhood of Cape Catoche.”

“You believe that?”

“Yes,” replied Poole, “but you will never catch them if you are not
shrewd.”

“Ah, senor?”

“You see, his boat is a submarine craft, and he can sink out of sight
and reach in a moment.”

“Perdita! Senor shall tell me what to do?”

“Use a subterfuge; trick him!” cried Poole, fiendishly. “When you sight
him lure him toward you! Fly a signal of distress; when he gets within
range give him a shot that will cripple him, or he will get away.”

Don Azata’s eyes glittered.

“That would be an assault upon the American flag,” he began.

“Hang the American flag! Who will ever know the story? Sink the accursed
submarine boat with every man on board! The secret will be well kept.
All we want is the gold.”

The two rascals looked at each other for fully a minute. Then Don Azata
said, softly:

“Senor, you are wise; I shall do as you say. It is true that we must
have the gold. May le diable aid us!”




                              CHAPTER XII.
                      A TURNING OF TABLES—THE END.


The sunken isthmus had been discovered and explored. The mission of the
Diver and its voyagers was thus accomplished.

The only thing now left to be done, as it seemed, was to start for home.
All were in favor of this.

“Bejabers, I’m more than ready to be off,” cried Barney. “Shure, it’s an
outlandish counthry about here, onyway.”

“Huh,” sniffed Pomp, “I don’t see no country, nuffin’ but de ocean all
about us!”

“Arrah, an’ don’t yez be so funny,” retorted Barney. “Shure, ain’t the
counthry underneath us, an’ phwativer more kin yez ask fer than that?”

This put Pomp to thinking, and no more was said just then. But Frank and
Wade discussed the question.

And the result was, it was finally decided to return home after first
paying a visit to Belize and having the boat’s engines overhauled.

The Diver, meanwhile, had been drifting all the time nearer to Cape
Catoche. The shore presented an alluring aspect, and Wade exclaimed:

“I say, Frank, we ought really to run ashore here for a little while. It
will give us a chance to stretch our legs, and I may find a few
specimens.”

“Or fall into the grip of the Caribs,” laughed Frank.

“I’ll risk that.”

So the Diver was steered in close to the shore. A small boat was brought
out and Frank and Wade rowed ashore.

They went well armed. But they were accorded a genuine surprise.

In place of possible cannibalistic Caribs or pirates they discovered the
extensive fruit plantation of an enterprising Yankee, named Walton.

This gentleman invited them up to his dwelling in a lovely grove of
palms, and treated them to pulque and other fine things.

He even insisted upon their remaining over night. As Frank knew that all
was well on board the Diver he did not refuse.

Thus it happened that Barney and Pomp spent the night alone on board the
Diver. And they had a high old time.

Barney managed to square accounts with the darky for the dough episode
of some days past. After a lively scrap they finally made up and were
good friends again.

They wondered somewhat at the non-return of Frank and Wade. But at
nightfall Frank signaled them from the cliffs and they were reassured.

With the first gray streak of dawn across the Caribbean Sea the two
jokers were given a little thrill of surprise.

A vessel had suddenly swung around a headland and was bearing down
toward them. It was a small steamer, and as Barney studied it with his
glass he made an astonishing discovery.

“For Hivin’s sakes,” he cried, “it’s wan av thim prowlin’ Cuban
cruisers. Phwat the divil are they up to? It’s mischief, I believe.”

“Golly, wha’ am we gwine to do? Reckon Marse Frank ought to be here!”

“Bejabers, I’ll put up the Yankee flag an’ they’ll never dare touch us
then,” cried Barney.

And he ran up the Stars and Stripes. But the Cuban vessel continued to
advance. She ran up a signal flag.

It read that she desired to speak the submarine boat. This was a
reasonable request and Barney answered it.

On the quarterdeck stood Azata and Poole. The latter’s first proposition
had been to creep up on the Diver and fire a ball through its hull.

But Azata had conceived a more cunning plan. The Meta was anchored in a
cove some miles up the coast.

His game was to speak the Diver and make inquiry concerning the Meta.
This would disarm the submarine voyagers and he would send a boat off to
interview the captain.

Once his men were on the deck of the Diver quick work would be made. The
submarine voyagers were to be overpowered and the boat seized.

Then it would be ransacked, the gold recovered, the voyagers shot and
the craft confiscated. The two wretches had not decided further than
this, but there were hints that the Diver would be a good craft to go
seeking sunken treasure with in other parts of the world.

This was a very fine scheme. Barney and Pomp were all unsuspecting. Yet
they cast anxious glances toward the shore for Frank and Wade.

They did not appear, however, so Barney had to make the best of it. The
Santa Maria bore down within hailing distance and the summons came:

“Ahoy, Senor Americano!”

“Ahoy, yersilf!” replied Barney.

The hail had come in American and the voice sounded strangely familiar.
But Barney never dreamed that it was really Poole who was shouting.

“What craft is that?”

“The Diver, submarine boat,” replied Barney. “Phwat do yez want?”

“This is the Cuban cruiser, Santa Maria. We are looking for an armed
schooner, the Meta. Have you spoken her?”

“Tare an’ ‘ounds!” exclaimed Barney; “they’re afther the Meta, an’ may
they catch her. Shure, they’ll hang that Poole as shure as preachin’.”

Then he replied:

“Aye, aye, sor! Not more than two or three days ago.”

“Lower your gangway,” was the Spanish hail, “we want to come aboard and
ask you about her.”

Barney was for a moment nonplussed. He was averse to being boarded by
any craft. But this must be all right, he reflected. Spain and the
United States were at peace. These Cubans officers could not have any
harmful intention.

So he and Pomp lowered the gangway. A boatload of marines and an officer
put off. The officer was Azata.

A few moments later the boat was alongside. Not until then did Barney
see his mistake.

Over the rail like wolves came the Spaniards. Barney and Pomp fled
toward the pilot-house to close the doors and sink the boat. But they
were too late.

The Spaniards were upon them. A sharp struggle followed and they were
quickly overpowered. Then from the bottom of the cruiser’s boat Poole
sprung up and cleared the rail with a yell of triumph.

“Throw them overboard!” he yelled. “Dead men tell no tales! The
submarine boat is ours!”

But Azata was cooler, and said:

“Not yet, senor. There is time enough for that. We may need them to tell
us where the gold is. Search the craft!”

Poole led the marines exultantly into the Diver’s cabin. The submarine
boat was thoroughly ransacked, but of course no gold was found.

Poole was furious and Azata was crestfallen. The Spanish captain began
to have suspicions that he was the victim of a hoax.

“Where is the gold, senors?” he asked of Barney and Pomp, in crude
English.

“There is none on board, sor,” replied Barney, and then the Celt told
the whole story of the quest for the treasure.

Even Poole began to see his error. After all, his supposition that the
gold was on board the Diver appeared to be founded upon the most
chimerical of evidence. Indeed, there was not the slightest thing to
warrant the assumption.

Don Azata’s face hardened. He turned upon Poole savagely.

“You have deceived me,” he said, with true Spanish temper. “You are a
lying dog!”

“I am no worse than you!” retorted Poole. “You have committed a
piratical act in boarding this vessel.”

Don Azata folded his arms.

“My purpose was to demand the gold in the name of the King of Spain,” he
said. “I act in his name. I will have no more to do with you. Unbind the
prisoners!”

Barney and Pomp were set free.

They were not a little astonished at this act of the Spaniard. But Don
Azata had his reason, and a good one, for the act.

Steadily bearing in toward the coast he saw a huge white-hulled steamer.
It required but a glance to recognize one of Uncle Sam’s White Squadron.
The tables were turned.

Meanwhile a small boat had left the shore and was coming rapidly up. In
a few moments more it was alongside and Frank and Wade sprung aboard.

The owner of the Diver took in the situation with a sweeping glance. His
eye flashed angrily.

“What is this, sir?” he demanded angrily of Don Azata. “What right have
you to board this boat in my absence?”

The Spanish captain bowed to the deck.

“Is this Captain Reade?” he asked.

“It is,” replied Frank.

“I am honored, most noble senor. You will accept my explanation and
apology. This lying dog”—indicating the cowering Poole—“told me that you
were of a piratical character and had seized upon a buried treasure,
which, found in the domain of the good King of Spain, by every right
belongs to him. He induced me to commit this outrage, for which my
government tenders abject apology.”

Frank turned his gaze upon Poole.

“You scoundrel!” he exclaimed. “We took none of that buried treasure.
You recovered all of it. So you have sought to make trouble for us, sir?
Well, your effort has proved a boomerang. Do you see yonder vessel? That
is one of our cruisers, and I shall signal her and turn you over to her
officers to be dealt with according to your just deserts.”

Poole was ghastly pale and trembled like an aspen.

“Have mercy!” he whined.

The Spanish officer bowed to the deck again, and made a move to the
gangway.

“Adios, senor capitan,” he said. “I know in the largeness of your heart
you have pardoned me.”

Frank smiled grimly and made no reply. He allowed the Spaniards to
depart. A few moments later the Santa Maria was scampering for the Isle
of Cuba with all speed.

But Poole had no thought of surrendering himself to the mercies of a
naval tribunal.

He gave a sudden mad yell and ran along the deck.

“Stop him!” cried Frank.

But it was too late.

With one wild plunge he went over the rail. He was a strong swimmer and
went for the shore. Barney would have pursued him in the boat.

But Frank said:

“No, let him go. He will never trouble us again, and we are well rid of
him.”

Whether the villain ever reached the shore or not was never known. Nor
was the fate of the Meta ever learned.

The white cruiser was not signaled. Instead, the Diver raised her anchor
and set out for Belize.

The voyage home was a stormy one. When at length the Diver entered the
river leading to Readestown she was pretty badly racked and strained.

“I’m afraid she’ll not go another cruise, Frank,” said Wade.

“I’ll not ask her to,” declared the young inventor. “She has done
enough. She has well repaid me.”

Their arrival in Readestown was the signal for a grand ovation. The
whole city turned out to do them honor.

Wilbur Wade was very happy.

He had brought home complete maps and charts of the sunken isthmus, and
many valuable specimens.

He was the only member of the American Society that visited the deep sea
and witnessed its wonders.

He had the satisfaction of attending the next meeting of the American
Society and proving his claims in regard to the Sunken Isthmus, to the
utter rout and discomfiture of the fractious Professor Brown. And this
was a happy triumph.

Frank Reade, Jr., Barney and Pomp are yet in Readestown. Of course, the
young inventor is not idle.

But what his next invention will be we are not as yet prepared to say.
Only time will tell.

But one thing is sure. None of our adventurers in this tale of the
Sunken Isthmus will quite forget the incidents connected therewith.

With which statement we have reached the end of our story and with the
reader’s kind permission will write adieu.


                                THE END.

Read “THE BLACK MOGUL; OR, THROUGH INDIA WITH FRANK READE, JR.,” which
will be the next number (93) of “Frank Reade Weekly Magazine.”

SPECIAL NOTICE: All back numbers of this weekly are always in print. If
you cannot obtain them from any newsdealer, send the price in money or
postage stamps by mail to FRANK TOUSEY, PUBLISHER, 24 UNION SQUARE, NEW
YORK, and you will receive the copies you order by return mail.




                             “HAPPY DAYS,”


           The Best Illustrated Weekly Story Paper Published.

                          ISSUED EVERY FRIDAY.

“HAPPY DAYS” is a large 16-page paper containing Interesting Stories,
Poems, Sketches, Comic Stories, Jokes, Answers to Correspondents, and
many other bright features. Its Authors and Artists have a national
reputation. No amount of money is spared to make this weekly the best
published.

             A New Story Begins Every Week in “Happy Days.”

                      OUT TO-DAY!      OUT TO-DAY!

                       The Prince _of_ the Ranch;

                                  OR,

                      OUT WITH THE KANSAS COWBOYS.

                          By JAS. D. MONTAGUE.

        Begins in No. 513 of “HAPPY DAYS,” Issued July 29, 1904.

                             PRICE 5 CENTS.

 For Sale by All Newsdealers, or Will Be Sent to Any Address on Receipt
                               of Price by
  FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher,      ❧      ❧      24 Union Square, New York




                            PLUCK AND LUCK.


          CONTAINS ALL SORTS OF STORIES. EVERY STORY COMPLETE.

       32 PAGES.       BEAUTIFULLY COLORED COVERS.    PRICE 5 CENTS.

                             LATEST ISSUES:

  249 A New York Boy In the Soudan; or, The Mahdi’s Slave. By Howard
        Austin.

  250 Jack Wright and His Electric Balloon Ship; or, 30,000 Leagues
        Above the Earth. By “Noname.”

  251 The Game-Cock of Deadwood. A Story of the Wild Northwest. By Jas
        C. Merritt.

  252 Harry Hook, the Boy Fireman of No. 1; or, Always at His Post. By
        Ex-Fire Chief Warden.

  253 The Waifs of New York. By N. S. Woods (The Young American
        Actor).

  254 Jack Wright and His Dandy of the Deep; or, Driven Afloat In the
        Sea of Fire. By “Noname.”

  255 In the Sea of Ice; or, The Perils of a Boy Whaler. By Berton
        Bertrew.

  256 Mad Anthony Wayne, the Hero of Stony Point. By Gen’l. Jas. A.
        Gordon.

  257 The Arkansas Scout; or, Fighting the Redskins. By An Old Scout.

  258 Jack Wright’s Demon of the Plains; or, Wild Adventures Among the
        Cowboys.

  259 The Merry Ten; or, The Shadows of a Social Club. By Jno. B.
        Dowd.

  260 Dan Driver, the Boy Engineer of the Mountain Express; or,
        Railroading on the Denver and Rio Grande.

  261 Silver Sam of Santa Fe; or, The Lions’ Treasure Cave. By An Old
        Scout.

  262 Jack Wright and His Electric Torpedo Ram; or, The Sunken City of
        the Atlantic. By “Noname.”

  263 The Rival Schools; or, Fighting for the Championship. By Allyn
        Draper.

  264 Jack Reef, the Boy Captain; or, Adventures on the Ocean. By
        Capt. Thos. H. Wilson.

  265 A Boy in Wall Street; or, Dick Hatch, the Young Broker. By H. K.
        Shackleford.

  266 Jack Wright and his Iron-Clad Air Motor; or, Searching for a
        Lost Explorer. By “Noname.”

  267 The Rival Base Ball Clubs; or, The Champions of Columbia
        Academy. By Allyn Draper.

  268 The Boy Cattle King; or, Frank Fordham’s Wild West Ranch. By an
        Old Scout.

  269 Wide Awake Will, The Plucky Boy Fireman of No. 3; or, Fighting
        the Flames for Fame and Fortune. By Ex-Fire Chief Warden.

  270 Jack Wright and His Electric Tricycle; or, Fighting the
        Stranglers of the Crimson Desert. By “Noname.”

  271 The Orphans of New York. A Pathetic Story of a Great City. By N.
        S. Wood (the Young American Actor).

  272 Sitting Bull’s Last Shot; or, The Vengeance of an Indian
        Policeman. By Pawnee Bill.

  273 The Haunted House on the Harlem; or, The Mystery of a Missing
        Man. By Howard Austin.

  274 Jack Wright and His Ocean Plunger; or, The Harpoon Hunters of
        the Arctic. By “Noname.”

  275 Claim 33; or, The Boys of the Mountain. By Jas. C. Merritt.

  276 The Road to Ruin; or, The Snares and Temptations of New York. By
        Jno. B. Dowd.

  277 A Spy at 16; or, Fighting for Washington and Liberty. By Gen’l
        Jas. A. Gordon.

  278 Jack Wright’s Flying Torpedo; or, The Black Demons of Dismal
        Swamp. By “Noname.”

  279 High Ladder Harry, The Young Fireman of Freeport; or, Always at
        the Top. By Ex-Fire Chief Warden.

  280 100 Chests of Gold; or, The Aztecs’ Buried Secret. By Richard R.
        Montgomery.

  281 Pat Malloy; or, An Irish Boy’s Pluck and Luck. By Allyn Draper.

  282 Jack Wright and His Electric Sea Ghost; or, A Strange Under
        Water Journey. By “Noname.”

  283 Sixty Mile Sam; or, Bound to be on Time. By Jas. C. Merritt.

  284 83 Degrees North Latitude; or, the Handwriting In the Iceberg.
        By Howard Austin.

  285 Joe, The Actor’s Boy; or, Famous at Fourteen. By N. S. Wood (the
        Young American Actor.)

  286 Dead For 5 Years; or, The Mystery of a Madhouse. By Allyn
        Draper.

  287 Broker Bob; or, The Youngest Operator in Wall Street. By H. K.
        Shackleford.

  288 Boy Pards; or, Making a Home on the Border. By An Old Scout.

  289 The Twenty Doctors; or, the Mystery of the Coast. By Capt. Thos.
        H. Wilson.

  290 The Boy Cavalry Scout; or, Life in the Saddle. By Gen’l. Jas. A.
        Gordon.

  291 The Boy Firemen; or, “Stand by the Machine.” By Ex-Fire Chief
        Warden.

  292 Rob, the Runaway; or, From Office Boy to Partner. By Allyn
        Draper.

  293 The Shattered Glass; or, A Country Boy In New York. A True
        Temperance Story. By Jno. B. Dowd.

  294 Lightning Lew, the Boy Scout; or, Perils in the West. By Gen’l.
        Jas. A. Gordon.

  295 The Gray House on the Rock; or, The Ghosts of Ballentyne Hall.
        By Jas. C. Merritt.

  296 A Poor Boy’s Fight; or, The Hero of the School. By Howard
        Austin.

  297 Captain Jack Tempest; or, The Prince of the Sea. By Capt. Thos.
        H. Wilson.

  298 Billy Button, the Young Clown and Bareback Rider. By Berton
        Bertrew.

  299 An Engineer at 16; or, The Prince of the Lightning Express. By
        Jas. C. Merritt.

  300 To the North Pole in a Balloon. By Berton Betrew.

  301 Kit Carson’s Little Scout; or, The Renegade’s Doom. By An Old
        Scout.

  302 From the Street; or, The Fortunes of a Bootblack. By N. S. Wood
        (the Young American Actor).

  303 Old Putnam’s Pet; or, The Young Patriot Spy. A Story of the
        Revolution. By Gen. Jas. A. Gordon.

  304 The Boy Speculators of Brookton; or, Millionaires, at Nineteen.
        By Allyn Draper.

  305 Rob Rudder, the Boy Pilot of the Mississippi. By Howard Austin.

  306 The Downward Path; or, The Road to Ruin. A True Temperance
        Story. By H. K. Shackleford.

  307 Up From the Ranks; or, From Corporal to General. A Story of the
        Great Rebellion. By Gen’l Jas. A. Gordon.

  308 Expelled From School; or, The Rebels of Beechdale Academy. By
        Allyn Draper.

  309 Larry, the Life Saver; or, A Born Fireman. By Ex-Fire Chief
        Warden.

  310 The Brand of Siberia; or, The Boy Tracker of the Steppes. By
        Allan Arnold.

  311 Across the Continent with a Circus; or, The Twin Riders of the
        Ring. By Berton Bertrew.

  312 On Board a Man-of-War; or, Jack Farragut in the U. S. Navy. By
        Capt. Thos. H. Wilson.

  313 Nick and Jed, the King Trappers of the Border. By An Old Scout.

  314 Red Light Dick, The Engineer Prince; or, The Bravest Boy on the
        Railroad. By Jas. C. Merritt.

  315 Leadville Jack, the Game Cock of the West. By An Old Scout.

  316 Adrift in the Sea of Grass; or, The Strange Voyage of a Missing
        Ship. By Capt. Thos. H. Wilson.

  317 Out of the Gutter; or, Fighting the Battle Alone. A True
        Temperance Story. By H. K. Shackleford.

  318 The Scouts of the Santee; or, Redcoats and Whigs. A Story of the
        American Revolution. By Gen’l Jas. A. Gordon.

  319 Edwin Forrest’s Boy Pupil; or, The Struggles and Triumphs of a
        Boy Actor. By N. S. Wood, the Young American Actor.

  320 Air Line Will, The Young Engineer of the New Mexico Express. By
        Jas. C. Merritt.

 For Sale by All Newsdealers, or will be Sent to Any Address on Receipt
                     of Price, 5 Cents per Copy, by

      FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher,            24 Union Square, New York

IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS

of our Libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be
obtained from this office direct. Cut out and fill in the following
Order Blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and
we will send them to you by return mail. =POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME
AS MONEY.=

 FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York.          .... 190

 DEAR SIR—Enclosed find .... cents for which please send me:

 .... copies of WORK AND WIN, Nos....................................
 .... copies of WILD WEST WEEKLY, Nos................................
 .... copies of FRANK READE WEEKLY, Nos..............................
 .... copies of PLUCK AND LUCK, Nos..................................
 .... copies of SECRET SERVICE, Nos..................................
 .... copies of THE LIBERTY BOYS OF ‘76, Nos.........................
 .... copies of Ten-Cent Hand Books, Nos.............................

 Name............. Street and No. .......... Town ........ State ....




                    These Books Tell You Everything!


               A COMPLETE SET IS A REGULAR ENCYCLOPEDIA!

Each book consists of sixty-four pages, printed on good paper, in clear
type and neatly bound in an attractive, illustrated cover. Most of the
books are also profusely illustrated, and all of the subjects treated
upon are explained in such a simple manner that any child can thoroughly
understand them. Look over the list as classified and see if you want to
know anything about the subjects mentioned.

                  *       *       *       *       *

THESE BOOKS ARE FOR SALE BY ALL NEWSDEALERS OR WILL BE SENT BY MAIL TO
ANY ADDRESS FROM THIS OFFICE ON RECEIPT OF PRICE, TEN CENTS EACH, OR ANY
THREE BOOKS FOR TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS
MONEY. Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, N.Y.

                                  MESMERISM.

  No. 81. HOW TO MESMERIZE.—Containing the most approved methods of
        mesmerism; also how to cure all kinds of diseases by animal
        magnetism, or, magnetic healing. By Prof. Leo Hugo Koch, A. C.
        S., author of “How to Hypnotize,” etc.

                                  PALMISTRY.

  No. 82. HOW TO DO PALMISTRY.—Containing the most approved methods of
        reading the lines on the hand, together with a full
        explanation of their meaning. Also explaining phrenology, and
        the key for telling character by the bumps on the head. By Leo
        Hugo Koch, A. C. S. Fully illustrated.

                                  HYPNOTISM.

  No. 83. HOW TO HYPNOTIZE.—Containing valuable and instructive
        information regarding the science of hypnotism. Also
        explaining the most approved methods which are employed by the
        leading hypnotists of the world. By Leo Hugo Koch, A.C.S.

                                  SPORTING.

  No. 21. HOW TO HUNT AND FISH.—The most complete hunting and fishing
        guide ever published. It contains full instructions about
        guns, hunting dogs, traps, trapping and fishing, together with
        descriptions of game and fish.

  No. 26. HOW TO ROW, SAIL AND BUILD A BOAT.—Fully illustrated. Every
        boy should know how to row and sail a boat. Full instructions
        are given in this little book, together with instructions on
        swimming and riding, companion sports to boating.

  No. 47. HOW TO BREAK, RIDE AND DRIVE A HORSE.—A complete treatise on
        the horse. Describing the most useful horses for business, the
        best horses for the road; also valuable recipes for diseases
        peculiar to the horse.

  No. 48. HOW TO BUILD AND SAIL CANOES.—A handy book for boys,
        containing full directions for constructing canoes and the
        most popular manner of sailing them. Fully illustrated. By C.
        Stansfield Hicks.

                               FORTUNE TELLING.

  No. 1. NAPOLEON’S ORACULUM AND DREAM BOOK.—Containing the great
        oracle of human destiny; also the true meaning of almost any
        kind of dreams, together with charms, ceremonies, and curious
        games of cards. A complete book.

  No. 23. HOW TO EXPLAIN DREAMS.—Everybody dreams, from the little
        child to the aged man and woman. This little book gives the
        explanation to all kinds of dreams, together with lucky and
        unlucky days, and “Napoleon’s Oraculum,” the book of fate.

  No. 28. HOW TO TELL FORTUNES.—Everyone is desirous of knowing what
        his future life will bring forth, whether happiness or misery,
        wealth or poverty. You can tell by a glance at this little
        book. Buy one and be convinced. Tell your own fortune. Tell
        the fortune of your friends.

  No. 76. HOW TO TELL FORTUNES BY THE HAND.—Containing rules for
        telling fortunes by the aid of lines of the hand, or the
        secret of palmistry. Also the secret of telling future events
        by aid of moles, marks, scars, etc. Illustrated. By A.
        Anderson.

                                  ATHLETIC.

  No. 6. HOW TO BECOME AN ATHLETE.—Giving full instruction for the use
        of dumb bells, Indian clubs, parallel bars, horizontal bars
        and various other methods of developing a good, healthy
        muscle; containing over sixty illustrations. Every boy can
        become strong and healthy by following the instructions
        contained in this little book.

  No. 10. HOW TO BOX.—The art of self-defense made easy. Containing
        over thirty illustrations of guards, blows, and the different
        positions of a good boxer. Every boy should obtain one of
        these useful and instructive books, as it will teach you how
        to box without an instructor.

  No. 25. HOW TO BECOME A GYMNAST.—Containing full instructions for
        all kinds of gymnastic sports and athletic exercises.
        Embracing thirty-five illustrations. By Professor W.
        Macdonald. A handy and useful book.

  No. 34. HOW TO FENCE.—Containing full instruction for fencing and
        the use of the broadsword; also instruction in archery.
        Described with twenty-one practical illustrations, giving the
        best positions in fencing. A complete book.

                              TRICKS WITH CARDS.

  No. 51. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Containing explanations of the
        general principles of sleight-of-hand applicable to card
        tricks; of card tricks with ordinary cards, and not requiring
        sleight-of-hand; of tricks involving sleight-of-hand, or the
        use of specially prepared cards. By Professor Haffner.
        Illustrated.

  No. 72. HOW TO DO SIXTY TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Embracing all of the
        latest and most deceptive card tricks, with illustrations. By
        A. Anderson.

  No. 77. HOW TO DO FORTY TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Containing deceptive Card
        Tricks as performed by leading conjurors and magicians.
        Arranged for home amusement. Fully illustrated.

                                    MAGIC.

  No. 2. HOW TO DO TRICKS.—The great book of magic and card tricks,
        containing full instruction on all the leading card tricks of
        the day, also the most popular magical illusions as performed
        by our leading magicians; every boy should obtain a copy of
        this book, as it will both amuse and instruct.

  No. 22. HOW TO DO SECOND SIGHT.—Heller’s second sight explained by
        his former assistant, Fred Hunt, Jr. Explaining how the secret
        dialogues were carried on between the magician and the boy on
        the stage; also giving all the codes and signals. The only
        authentic explanation of second sight.

  No. 43. HOW TO BECOME A MAGICIAN.—Containing the grandest assortment
        of magical illusions ever placed before the public. Also
        tricks with cards, incantations, etc.

  No. 68. HOW TO DO CHEMICAL TRICKS.—Containing over one hundred
        highly amusing and instructive tricks with chemicals. By A.
        Anderson. Handsomely illustrated.

  No. 69. HOW TO DO SLEIGHT OF HAND.—Containing over fifty of the
        latest and best tricks used by magicians. Also containing the
        secret of second sight. Fully illustrated. By A. Anderson.

  No. 70. HOW TO MAKE MAGIC TOYS.—Containing full directions for
        making Magic Toys and devices of many kinds. By A. Anderson.
        Fully illustrated.

  No. 73. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH NUMBERS.—Showing many curious tricks
        with figures and the magic of numbers. By A. Anderson. Fully
        illustrated.

  No. 75. HOW TO BECOME A CONJUROR.—Containing tricks with Dominos,
        Dice, Cups and Balls, Hats, etc. Embracing thirty-six
        illustrations. By A. Anderson.

  No. 78. HOW TO DO THE BLACK ART.—Containing a complete description
        of the mysteries of Magic and Sleight of Hand, together with
        many wonderful experiments. By A. Anderson. Illustrated.

                                 MECHANICAL.

  No. 29. HOW TO BECOME AN INVENTOR.—Every boy should know how
        inventions originated. This book explains them all, giving
        examples in electricity, hydraulics, magnetism, optics,
        pneumatics, mechanics, etc. The most instructive book
        published.

  No. 56. HOW TO BECOME AN ENGINEER.—Containing full instructions how
        to proceed in order to become a locomotive engineer; also
        directions for building a model locomotive; together with a
        full description of everything an engineer should know.

  No. 57. HOW TO MAKE MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.—Full directions how to make
        a Banjo, Violin, Zither, Æolian Harp, Xylophone and other
        musical instruments; together with a brief description of
        nearly every musical instrument used in ancient or modern
        times. Profusely illustrated. By Algernon S. Fitzgerald, for
        twenty years bandmaster of the Royal Bengal Marines.

  No. 59. HOW TO MAKE A MAGIC LANTERN.—Containing a description of the
        lantern, together with its history and invention. Also full
        directions for its use and for painting slides. Handsomely
        illustrated. By John Allen.

  No. 71. HOW TO DO MECHANICAL TRICKS.—Containing complete
        instructions for performing over sixty Mechanical Tricks. By
        A. Anderson. Fully illustrated.

                               LETTER WRITING.

  No. 11. HOW TO WRITE LOVE-LETTERS.—A most complete little book,
        containing full directions for writing love-letters, and when
        to use them, giving specimen letters for young and old.

  No. 12. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO LADIES.—Giving complete instructions
        for writing letters to ladies on all subjects; also letters of
        introduction, notes and requests.

  No. 24. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO GENTLEMEN.—Containing full
        directions for writing to gentlemen on all subjects; also
        giving sample letters for instruction.

  No. 53. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS.—A wonderful little book, telling you
        how to write to your sweetheart, your father, mother, sister,
        brother, employer; and, in fact, everybody and anybody you
        wish to write to. Every young man and every young lady in the
        land should have this book.

  No. 74. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS CORRECTLY.—Containing full instructions
        for writing letters on almost any subject; also rules for
        punctuation and composition, with specimen letters.

                                  THE STAGE.

  No. 41. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK END MEN’S JOKE BOOK.—Containing a great
        variety of the latest jokes used by the most famous end men.
        No amateur minstrels is complete without this wonderful little
        book.

  No. 42. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK STUMP SPEAKER.—Containing a varied
        assortment of stump speeches, Negro, Dutch and Irish. Also end
        men’s jokes. Just the thing for home amusement and amateur
        shows.

  No. 45. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK MINSTREL GUIDE AND JOKE BOOK.—Something
        new and very instructive. Every boy should obtain this book,
        as it contains full instructions for organizing an amateur
        minstrel troupe.

  No. 65. MULDOON’S JOKES.—This is one of the most original joke books
        ever published, and it is brimful of wit and humor. It
        contains a large collection of songs, jokes, conundrums, etc.,
        of Terrence Muldoon, the great wit, humorist, and practical
        joker of the day. Every boy who can enjoy a good substantial
        joke should obtain a copy immediately.

  No. 79. HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR.—Containing complete instructions how
        to make up for various characters on the stage; together with
        the duties of the Stage Manager, Prompter, Scenic Artist and
        Property Man. By a prominent Stage Manager.

  No. 80. GUS WILLIAMS’ JOKE BOOK.—Containing the latest jokes,
        anecdotes and funny stories of this world-renowned and ever
        popular German comedian. Sixty-four pages; handsome colored
        cover containing a half-tone photo of the author.

                                HOUSEKEEPING.

  No. 16. HOW TO KEEP A WINDOW GARDEN.—Containing full instructions
        for constructing a window garden either in town or country,
        and the most approved methods for raising beautiful flowers at
        home. The most complete book of the kind ever published.

  No. 30. HOW TO COOK.—One of the most instructive books on cooking
        ever published. It contains recipes for cooking meats, fish,
        game, and oysters; also pies, puddings, cakes and all kinds of
        pastry, and a grand collection of recipes by one of our most
        popular cooks.

  No. 37. HOW TO KEEP HOUSE.—It contains information for everybody,
        boys, girls, men and women; it will teach you how to make
        almost anything around the house, such as parlor ornaments,
        brackets, cements, Æolian harps, and bird lime for catching
        birds.

                                 ELECTRICAL.

  No. 46. HOW TO MAKE AND USE ELECTRICITY.—A description of the
        wonderful uses of electricity and electro magnetism; together
        with full instructions for making Electric Toys, Batteries,
        etc. By George Trebel, A. M., M. D. Containing over fifty
        illustrations.

  No. 64. HOW TO MAKE ELECTRICAL MACHINES.—Containing full directions
        for making electrical machines, induction coils, dynamos, and
        many novel toys to be worked by electricity. By R. A. R.
        Bennett. Fully illustrated.

  No. 67. HOW TO DO ELECTRICAL TRICKS.—Containing a large collection
        of instructive and highly amusing electrical tricks, together
        with illustrations. By A. Anderson.

                                ENTERTAINMENT.

  No. 9. HOW TO BECOME A VENTRILOQUIST.—By Harry Kennedy. The secret
        given away. Every intelligent boy reading this book of
        instructions, by a practical professor (delighting multitudes
        every night with his wonderful imitations), can master the
        art, and create any amount of fun for himself and friends. It
        is the greatest book ever published, and there’s millions (of
        fun) in it.

  No. 20. HOW TO ENTERTAIN AN EVENING PARTY.—A very valuable little
        book just published. A complete compendium of games, sports,
        card diversions, comic recitations, etc., suitable for parlor
        or drawing-room entertainment. It contains more for the money
        than any book published.

  No. 35. HOW TO PLAY GAMES.—A complete and useful little book,
        containing the rules and regulations of billiards, bagatelle,
        backgammon, croquet, dominoes, etc.

  No. 36. HOW TO SOLVE CONUNDRUMS.—Containing all the leading
        conundrums of the day, amusing riddles, curious catches and
        witty sayings.

  No. 52. HOW TO PLAY CARDS.—A complete and handy little book, giving
        the rules and full directions for playing Euchre, Cribbage,
        Casino, Forty-Five, Rounce, Pedro Sancho, Draw Poker, Auction
        Pitch, All Fours, and many other popular games of cards.

  No. 66. HOW TO DO PUZZLES.—Containing over three hundred interesting
        puzzles and conundrums, with key to same. A complete book.
        Fully illustrated. By A. Andersen.

                                  ETIQUETTE.

  No. 13. HOW TO DO IT; OR, BOOK OF ETIQUETTE.—It is a great life
        secret, and one that every young man desires to know all
        about. There’s happiness in it.

  No. 33. HOW TO BEHAVE.—Containing the rules and etiquette of good
        society and the easiest and most approved methods of appearing
        to good advantage at parties, balls, the theatre, church, and
        in the drawing-room.

                                 DECLAMATION.

  No. 27. HOW TO RECITE AND BOOK OF RECITATIONS.—Containing the most
        popular selections in use, comprising Dutch dialect, French
        dialect, Yankee and Irish dialect pieces, together with many
        standard readings.

  No. 31. HOW TO BECOME A SPEAKER.—Containing fourteen illustrations,
        giving the different positions requisite to become a good
        speaker, reader and elocutionist. Also containing gems from
        all the popular authors of prose and poetry, arranged in the
        most simple and concise manner possible.

  No. 49. HOW TO DEBATE.—Giving rules for conducting debates, outlines
        for debates, questions for discussion, and the best sources
        for procuring information on the questions given.

                                   SOCIETY.

  No. 3. HOW TO FLIRT.—The arts and wiles of flirtation are fully
        explained by this little book. Besides the various methods of
        handkerchief, fan, glove, parasol, window and hat flirtation,
        it contains a full list of the language and sentiment of
        flowers, which is interesting to everybody, both old and
        young. You cannot be happy without one.

  No. 4. HOW TO DANCE is the title of a new and handsome little book
        just issued by Frank Tousey. It contains full instructions in
        the art of dancing, etiquette in the ball-room and at parties,
        how to dress, and full directions for calling off in all
        popular square dances.

  No. 5. HOW TO MAKE LOVE.—A complete guide to love, courtship and
        marriage, giving sensible advice, rules and etiquette to be
        observed, with many curious and interesting things not
        generally known.

  No. 17. HOW TO DRESS.—Containing full instruction in the art of
        dressing and appearing well at home and abroad, giving the
        selections of colors, material, and how to have them made up.

  No. 18. HOW TO BECOME BEAUTIFUL.—One of the brightest and most
        valuable little books ever given to the world. Everybody
        wishes to know how to become beautiful, both male and female.
        The secret is simple, and almost costless. Read this book and
        be convinced how to become beautiful.

                              BIRDS AND ANIMALS.

  No. 7. HOW TO KEEP BIRDS.—Handsomely illustrated and containing full
        instructions for the management and training of the canary,
        mockingbird, bobolink, blackbird, paroquet, parrot, etc.

  No. 39. HOW TO RAISE DOGS, POULTRY, PIGEONS AND RABBITS.—A useful
        and instructive book. Handsomely illustrated. By Ira Drofraw.

  No. 40. HOW TO MAKE AND SET TRAPS.—Including hints on how to catch
        moles, weasels, otter, rats, squirrels and birds. Also how to
        cure skins. Copiously illustrated. By J. Harrington Keene.

  No. 50. HOW TO STUFF BIRDS AND ANIMALS.—A valuable book, giving
        instructions in collecting, preparing, mounting and preserving
        birds, animals and insects.

  No. 54. HOW TO KEEP AND MANAGE PETS.—Giving complete information as
        to the manner and method of raising, keeping, taming,
        breeding, and managing all kinds of pets; also giving full
        instructions for making cages, etc. Fully explained by
        twenty-eight illustrations, making it the most complete book
        of the kind ever published.

                                MISCELLANEOUS.

  No. 8. HOW TO BECOME A SCIENTIST.—A useful and instructive book,
        giving a complete treatise on chemistry; also experiments in
        acoustics, mechanics, mathematics, chemistry, and directions
        for making fireworks, colored fires, and gas balloons. This
        book cannot be equaled.

  No. 14. HOW TO MAKE CANDY.—A complete hand-book for making all kinds
        of candy, ice-cream, syrups, essences, etc., etc.

  No. 19.—FRANK TOUSEY’S UNITED STATES DISTANCE TABLES, POCKET
        COMPANION AND GUIDE.—Giving the official distances on all the
        railroads of the United States and Canada. Also table of
        distances by water to foreign ports, hack fares in the
        principal cities, reports of the census, etc., etc., making it
        one of the most complete and handy books published.

  No. 38. HOW TO BECOME YOUR OWN DOCTOR.—A wonderful book, containing
        useful and practical information in the treatment of ordinary
        diseases and ailments common to every family. Abounding in
        useful and effective recipes for general complaints.

  No. 55. HOW TO COLLECT STAMPS AND COINS.—Containing valuable
        information regarding the collecting and arranging of stamps
        and coins. Handsomely illustrated.

  No. 58. HOW TO BE A DETECTIVE.—By Old King Brady, the world-known
        detective. In which he lays down some valuable and sensible
        rules for beginners, and also relates some adventures and
        experiences of well-known detectives.

  No. 60. HOW TO BECOME A PHOTOGRAPHER.—Containing useful information
        regarding the Camera and how to work it; also how to make
        Photographic Magic Lantern Slides and other Transparencies.
        Handsomely illustrated. By Captain W. De W. Abney.

  No. 62. HOW TO BECOME A WEST POINT MILITARY CADET.—Containing full
        explanations how to gain admittance, course of Study,
        Examinations, Duties, Staff of Officers, Post Guard, Police
        Regulations, Fire Department, and all a boy should know to be
        a Cadet. Compiled and written by Lu Senarens, author of “How
        to Become a Naval Cadet.”

  No. 63. HOW TO BECOME A NAVAL CADET.—Complete instructions of how to
        gain admission to the Annapolis Naval Academy. Also containing
        the course of instruction, description of grounds and
        buildings, historical sketch, and everything a boy should know
        to become an officer in the United States Navy. Compiled and
        written by Lu Senarens, author of “How to Become a West Point
        Military Cadet.”

                PRICE 10 CENTS EACH, OR 3 FOR 25 CENTS.
      Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York.




                             SECRET SERVICE

                 OLD AND YOUNG KING BRADY, DETECTIVES.

          PRICE 5 CTS. 32 PAGES. COLORED COVERS. ISSUED WEEKLY

                             LATEST ISSUES:

  204 The Bradys In Baxter Street; or, The House Without a Door.

  205 The Bradys Midnight Call; or, The Mystery of Harlem Heights.

  206 The Bradys Behind the Bars; or, Working on Blackwells Island.

  207 The Bradys and the Brewer’s Bonds; or, Working on a Wall Street
        Case.

  208 The Bradys on the Bowery; or, The Search for a Missing Girl.

  209 The Bradys and the Pawnbroker; or, A Very Mysterious Case.

  210 The Bradys and the Gold Fakirs; or, Working for the Mint.

  211 The Bradys at Bonanza Bay; or, Working on a Million Dollar Clew.

  212 The Bradys and the Black Riders; or, The Mysterious Murder at
        Wildtown.

  213 The Bradys and Senator Slam; or, Working With Washington Crooks.

  214 The Bradys and the Man from Nowhere; or, Their Very Hardest
        Case.

  215 The Bradys and “No. 99”; or, The Search for a Mad Millionaire.

  216 The Bradys at Baffin’s Bay; or, The Trail Which Led to the
        Arctic.

  217 The Bradys and Gim Lee; or, Working a Clew in Chinatown.

  218 The Bradys and the “Yegg” Men; or, Seeking a Clew on the Road.

  219 The Bradys and the Blind Banker; or, Ferreting Out the Wall
        Street Thieves.

  220 The Bradys and the Black Cat; or, Working Among the Card Crooks
        of Chicago.

  221 The Bradys and the Texas Oil King; or, Seeking a Clew in the
        Southwest.

  222 The Bradys and the Night Hawk; or, New York at Midnight.

  223 The Bradys in the Bad Lands; or, Hot work in South Dakota.

  224 The Bradys at Breakneck Hall; or, The Mysterious House on the
        Harlem.

  225 The Bradys and the Fire Marshal; or, Hot Work in Hornersville.

  226 The Bradys and the Three Sheriffs; or, Doing a Turn In
        Tennessee.

  227 The Bradys and the Opium Smugglers; or, A Hot Trail on the
        Pacific Coast.

  228 The Bradys Boomerang; or, Shaking Up the Wall Street Wire
        Tappers.

  229 The Bradys Among the Rockies; or, Working Away Out West.

  230 The Bradys and Judge Lynch; or, After the Arkansas Terror.

  231 The Bradys and the Bagg Boys; or, Hustling in the Black Hills.

  232 The Bradys and Captain Bangs; or, The Mystery of a Mississippi
        Steamer.

  233 The Bradys in Maiden Lane; or, Tracking the Diamond Crooks.

  234 The Bradys and Wells-Fargo Case; or, The Mystery of the Montana
        Mail.

  235 The Bradys and “Bowery Bill”; or, The Crooks of Coon Alley.

  236 The Bradys at Bushel Bend; or, Smoking Out the Chinese
        Smugglers.

  237 The Bradys and the Messenger Boy; or, The A. D. T. Mystery.

  238 The Bradys and the Wire Gang; or, The Great Race-Track Swindle.

  239 The Bradys Among the Mormons; or, Secret Work in Salt Lake City.

  240 The Bradys and “Fancy Frank”; or, The Velvet Gang of Flood Bar.

  241 The Bradys at Battle Cliff; or, Chased Up the Grand Canyon.

  242 The Bradys and “Mustang Mike”; or, The Man With the Branded
        Hand.

  243 The Bradys at Gold Hill; or, The Mystery of the Man from
        Montana.

  244 The Bradys and Pilgrim Pete; or, The Tough Sports of Terror
        Gulch.

  245 The Bradys and the Black Eagle Express; or, The Fate of the
        Frisco Flyer.

  246 The Bradys and Hi-Lo-Jak; or, Dark Deeds in Chinatown.

  247 The Bradys and the Texas Rangers; or, Rounding up the Green
        Goods Fakirs.

  248 The Bradys and “Simple Sue”; or, The Keno Queen of Sawdust City.

  249 The Bradys and the Wall Street Wizard; or, the Cash That Did Not
        Come.

  250 The Bradys and Cigarette Charlie; or, the Smoothest Crook in the
        World.

  251 The Bradys at Bandit Gulch; or, From Wall Street to the Far
        West.

  252 The Bradys in the Foot-Hills; or, The Blue Band of Hard Luck
        Gulch.

  253 The Bradys and Brady the Banker; or, The Secret of the Old Santa
        Fe Trail.

  254 The Bradys’ Graveyard Clue; or, Dealings With Doctor Death.

  255 The Bradys and “Lonely Luke”; or, The Hard Gang of Hardscrabble.

  256 The Bradys and Tombstone Tom; or, A Hurry Call from Arizona.

  257 The Bradys’ Backwoods Trail; or, Landing the Log Rollers Gang.

  258 The Bradys and “Joe Jinger”; or, The Clew in the Convict Camp.

  259 The Bradys at Madman’s Roost; or, A Clew from the Golden Gate.

  260 The Bradys and the Border Band; or, Six Weeks’ Work Along the
        Line.

  261 The Bradys in Sample City; or, The Gang of the Silver Seven.

  262 The Bradys’ Mott Street Mystery; or, The Case of Mrs. Ching
        Chow.

  263 The Bradys’ Black Butte Raid; or, Trailing the Idaho “Terror.”

  264 The Bradys and Jockey Joe; or, Crooked Work at the Racetrack.

  265 The Bradys at Kicking Horse Canyon; or, Working for the Canadian
        Pacific.

  266 The Bradys and “Black Jack”; or, Tracking the Negro Crooks.

  267 The Bradys’ Wild West Clew; or, Knocking About Nevada.

  268 The Bradys’ Dash to Deadwood; or, A Mystery of the Black Hills.

  269 The Bradys and “Humpy Hank”; or, The Silver Gang of Shasta.

  270 The Bradys and Dr. Dockery; or, The Secret Band of Seven.

  271 The Bradys’ Western Raid; or, Trailing A “Bad” Man to Texas.

  272 The Bradys at Fort Yuma; or, The Mix-up with the “King of
        Mexico.”

  273 The Bradys and the Bond King; or, Working on a Wall Street Case.

  274 The Bradys and Fakir Fred; or, The Mystery of the County Fair.

  275 The Bradys’ California Call; or, Hot Work in Hangtown.

  276 The Bradys’ Million Dollar Camp; or, Rough Times in Rattlesnake
        Canyon.

  277 The Bradys and the Black Hounds; or, The Mystery of the Midas
        Mine.

  278 The Bradys Up Bad River; or, After the Worst Man of All.

  279 The Bradys and “Uncle Hiram”; or, Hot Work with a Hayseed Crook.

  280 The Bradys and Kid King; or, Tracking the Arizona Terror.

  281 The Bradys’ Chicago Clew; or, Exposing the Board of Trade
        Crooks.

  282 The Bradys and Silver King; or, After the Man of Mystery.

  283 The Bradys’ Hard Struggle; or, The Search for the Missing
        Fingers.

  284 The Bradys in Sunflower City; or, After “Bad” Man Brown.

  285 The Bradys and “Wild Bill”; or, The Sharp Gang of Sundown.

  286 The Bradys in the Saddle; or, Chasing “Broncho Bill.”

  287 The Bradys and the Mock Millionaire; or, The Trail which Led to
        Tuxedo.

  288 The Bradys’ Wall Street Trail; or, The Matter of X-Y-Z.

 For Sale by All Newsdealers, or will be Sent to Any Address on Receipt
                     of Price, 5 Cents per Copy, by

      FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher,           24 Union Square, New York.

IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS

of our libraries, and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be
obtained from this office direct. Cut out and fill in the following
Order Blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and
we will send them to you by return mail. =POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME
AS MONEY.=

  FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York.         .... 190

  DEAR SIR—Enclosed find .... cents for which please send me:

  .... copies of WORK AND WIN, Nos....................................
  .... copies of WILD WEST WEEKLY, Nos................................
  .... copies of FRANK READE WEEKLY, Nos..............................
  .... copies of PLUCK AND LUCK, Nos..................................
  .... copies of SECRET SERVICE, Nos..................................
  .... copies of THE LIBERTY BOYS OF ‘76, Nos.........................
  .... copies of Ten-Cent Hand Books, Nos.............................

  Name ............ Street and No. ......... Town ......... State ....




                      FRANK READE WEEKLY MAGAZINE.


     Containing Stories of Adventures on Land, Sea, and in the Air.

                              BY “NONAME.”

             EACH NUMBER IN A HANDSOMELY ILLUMINATED COVER.

                     A 32-PAGE BOOK FOR FIVE CENTS.

All our readers know Frank Reade, Jr., the greatest inventor of the age,
and his two fun-loving chums, Barney and Pomp. The stories published in
this magazine contain a true account of the wonderful and exciting
adventures of the famous inventor, with his marvellous flying machines,
electrical overland engines, and his extraordinary submarine boats. Each
number is a rare treat. Tell your newsdealer to get you a copy.

                             LATEST ISSUES.

  30 Adrift In Africa; or, Frank Reade, Jr., Among the Ivory Hunters
        with His New Electric Wagon.

  31 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Search for a Lost Man in His Latest Air
        Wonder.

  32 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Search for the Sea Serpent; or, Six Thousand
        Miles Under the Sea.

  33 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Prairie Whirlwind; or, The Mystery of the
        Hidden Canyon.

  34 Around the Horizon for Ten Thousand Miles; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s
        Most Wonderful Trip.

  35 Lost in the Atlantic Valley; or, Frank Reade, Jr., and his
        Wonder, the “Dart.”

  36 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Desert Explorer; or, The Underground City of
        the Sahara.

  37 Lost in the Mountains of the Moon; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Great
        Trip with the “Scud.”

  38 Under the Amazon for a Thousand Miles.

  39 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Clipper of the Prairie; or, Fighting the
        Apaches in the Southwest.

  40 The Chase of a Comet; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Aerial Trip with the
        “Flash.”

  41 Across the Frozen Sea; or, Frank Reade Jr.’s Electric Snow
        Cutter.

  42 Frank Reade Jr.’s Electric Buckboard; or, Thrilling Adventures in
        North Australia.

  43 Around the Arctic Circle; or, Frank Reade Jr.’s Famous Flight
        With His Air Ship.

  44 Frank Reade Jr.’s Search for the Silver Whale; or, Under the
        Ocean in the Electric “Dolphin.”

  45 Frank Reade, Jr., and His Electric Car; or, Outwitting a
        Desperate Gang.

  46 To the End of the Earth; or, Frank Reade Jr.’s Great Mid-Air
        Flight.

  47 The Missing Island; or, Frank Reade Jr.’s Voyage Under the Sea.

  48 Frank Reade, Jr., in Central India; or, the Search for the Lost
        Savants.

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

  50 100 Miles Below the Surface of the Sea; or, The Marvelous Trip of
        Frank Reade, Jr.

  51 Abandoned in Alaska; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Thrilling Search for
        a Lost Gold Claim.

  52 Frank Reade, Jr.’s Twenty-Five Thousand Mile Trip in the Air.

  53 Under the Yellow Sea; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Search for the Cave
        of Pearls.

  54 From the Nile to the Niger; or, Frank Reade, Jr. Lost in the
        Soudan.

  55 The Electric Island; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Search for the
        Greatest Wonder on Earth.

  56 The Underground Sea; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Subterranean Cruise.

  57 From Tropic to Tropic; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Tour With His
        Bicycle Car.

  58 Lost in a Comet’s Tail; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Strange Adventure
        With His Air-ship.

  59 Under Four Oceans; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Submarine Chase of a
        “Sea Devil.”

  60 The Mysterious Mirage; or, Frank Reade. Jr.’s Desert Search for a
        Secret City.

  61 Latitude 90 Degrees; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Most Wonderful
        Mid-Air Flight.

  62 Lost In the Great Undertow; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Submarine
        Cruise in the Gulf Stream.

  63 Across Australia with Frank Reade, Jr.; or, In His New Electric
        Car.

  64 Over Two Continents; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Long Distance Flight.

  65 Under the Equator; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Greatest Submarine
        Voyage.

  66 Astray in the Selvas; or, The Wild Experiences of Frank Reade,
        Jr., in South America.

  67 In the Wild Man’s Land; or, With Frank Reade. Jr., in the Heart
        of Australia.

  68 From Coast to Coast; or, Frank Reade. Jr.’s Trip Across Africa.

  69 Beyond the Gold Coast; or, Frank Reade. Jr.’s Overland Trip.

  70 Across the Earth; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Latest Trip with His New
        Air Ship.

  71 Six Weeks Buried in a Deep Sea Cave; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Great
        Submarine Search.

  72 Across the Desert of Fire; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Marvelous Trip
        in a Strange Country.

  73 The Transient Lake; or, Frank Reade. Jr.’s Adventures in a
        Mysterious Country.

  74 The Galleon’s Gold; or, Frank Reade. Jr.’s Deep Sea Search.

  75 The Lost Caravan; or, Frank Reade, Jr., on the Staked Plains.

  76 Adrift in Asia With Frank Reade. Jr.

  77 Under the Indian Ocean With Frank Reade, Jr.

  78 Along the Orinoco; or, With Frank Reade, Jr., in Venezuela.

  79 The Lost Navigators; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Mid-Air Search.

  80 Six Sunken Pirates; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Marvelous Adventures
        in the Deep Sea.

  81 The Island in The Air; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Trip to the
        Tropics.

  82 In White Latitudes; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Ten Thousand Mile
        Flight.

  83 Afloat in a Sunken Forest; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Submarine
        Cruise.

  84 The Abandoned Country; or, Frank Reade, Jr., Exploring a New
        Continent.

  85 Over the Orient; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Travels in Turkey.

  86 The Corral Labyrinth; or, Frank Reade, Jr., Lost in a Deep Sea
        Cave.

  87 Through the Tropics; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Adventures in the
        Gran Chaco.

  88 The White Desert; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Trip to the Land of
        Tombs.

  89 1000 Fathoms Deep; or, With Frank Reade, Jr. in the Sea of Gold.

  90 In the Black Zone; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Quest for the Mountain
        of Ivory.

  91 The Missing Planet; or, Frank Reade, Jr.’s Hunt for a Fallen
        Star.

  92 The Sunken Isthmus; or, Frank Reade, Jr. in the Yucatan Channel.

 For Sale by All Newsdealers, or will be Sent to Any Address on Receipt
                     of Price, 5 Cents per Copy, by

      FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher,           24 Union Square, New York.

IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS

of our Libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be
obtained from this office direct. Cut out and fill in the following
Order Blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and
we will send them to you by return mail. =POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME
AS MONEY.=

 FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York.          .... 190

 DEAR SIR—Enclosed find .... cents for which please send me:

 .... copies of WORK AND WIN, Nos.....................................
 .... copies of WILD WEST WEEKLY, Nos.................................
 .... copies of FRANK READE WEEKLY, Nos...............................
 .... copies of PLUCK AND LUCK, Nos...................................
 .... copies of SECRET SERVICE, Nos...................................
 .... copies of THE LIBERTY BOYS OF ‘76, Nos..........................
 .... copies of Ten-Cent Hand Books, Nos..............................

 Name ............. Street and No. ........ Town ......... State .....

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




                          TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES


 1. Added Table of Contents.
 2. Silently corrected typographical errors.
 3. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.
 4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
 5. Enclosed bold font in =equals=.





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sunken Isthmus, by Luis Senarens

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 54654 ***