



Produced by Annie McGuire








[Illustration: HARPER'S ROUND TABLE]

Copyright, 1895, by HARPER & BROTHERS. All Rights Reserved.

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PUBLISHED WEEKLY. NEW YORK, TUESDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1895. FIVE CENTS A COPY.

VOL. XVI.--NO. 831. TWO DOLLARS A YEAR.

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[Illustration]

SEA RANGERS.

BY KIRK MUNROE,

AUTHOR OF "ROAD RANGERS," THE "MATE" SERIES, "FUR-SEAL'S TOOTH,"
"SNOW-SHOES AND SLEDGES," ETC.


CHAPTER I.

EARNING THEIR BICYCLES.

"I say, Hal, do you realize that the Ready Rangers will have been in
existence a whole year on the 30th?" asked Will Rogers, as he and Hal
Bacon walked homeward from school one afternoon of the May following the
Rangers' memorable trip to New York. "I remember the exact date, because
it was Decoration day, and the first time I was out after my accident."

"That's so," replied Lieutenant Hal, "and I think we ought to do
something in the way of a celebration."

"My idea exactly; and at the meeting to-night I want to talk it over. So
bring along any suggestions you can pick up, and let's see what can be
done."

Never had the Berks boys, who were also Rangers, worked so hard as
during the winter just passed. In spite of the allurements of skating,
coasting, and all the other fascinating winter sports of country life,
they had never lost sight of the coveted bicycles that Tom Burgess's
father had promised to let them have at much less than cost, if only
they could earn the money to pay for them. At the suggestion of Reddy
Cuddeback, their newest member, of whom they were intensely proud,
because he held the five-mile racing record of the United States, they
had decided to make a common fund of all their earnings, and place it in
the hands of honorary member Pop Miller for safe keeping. They did this,
because, while it was necessary to the success of their organization
that every member should own a bicycle, some of them were possessed of
greater advantages or abilities for earning money than others. Also
those who already owned machines, and so were not obliged to earn them,
could still work with enthusiasm for the fund. Besides these reasons the
Rangers proposed to raise some of the money by giving entertainments,
the proceeds from which would necessarily go into a common fund.

So, while several of the boys under direction of "Cracker" Bob Jones,
who had a great head for business, gathered nuts in the autumn for
shipment to New York, caught fish through the ice during the winter, and
sold them in the village, and made maple sugar, to order, in the early
spring, others split wood or did similar chores for neighbors. Will
Rogers and Hal Bacon organized a mail-and-package delivery service. Beth
Barlow, working on behalf of her brother, the naval cadet member, made
the caramels and pop-corn balls that little Cal Moody sold to his
school-mates at recess, while Reddy Cuddeback, who proved to be
possessed of decided dramatic talent, arranged and managed the several
entertainments given by the Rangers during the winter.

One of these was a minstrel show, the first ever seen in Berks. Another
was a Good Roads talk, given by a distinguished highway engineer, and
illustrated by stereopticon views, while the third, which was the
crowning success of the season, was a play written by Will Rogers and
Beth Barlow. It was called _Blue Billows_--a title cribbed from
_Raftmates_--_or, Fighting for the Old Flag_: a nautical drama in two
watches, founded on facts more thrilling than fiction. This play was
suggested by the story of Reddy Cuddeback's father, as told by Admiral
Marlin to his Road-Ranger guests the summer before, and in order that it
should present a realistic picture of naval life, its leading scenes and
all of its conversation were in closest imitation of _Pinafore_, which
the Rangers had been taken to see in New York, and which was their chief
source of knowledge concerning life on the ocean wave. So they had a
Little Buttercup, only she was called Pink Clover, a midshipmite
represented by little Cal Moody, a Jack Jackstraw, a Bill Bullseye, and
a close imitation of Sir Joseph Porter, named Sir Birch Beer. They sang
sea-songs, danced what they believed to be hornpipes, hitched their
white duck trousers, shivered their timbers, and were altogether so salt
and tarry, that had not the dazzled spectators known better they might
have believed the Rangers to be regular oakum-pickers who had never trod
dry land in their lives. So well was this performance received in Berks
that the boys were induced to repeat it in Chester, whereby they added a
very tidy sum to their fund.

This was their final effort at money-making, for about this time a
letter was received from Mr. Burgess stating that he found it necessary
to dispose of his stock of bicycles at once, and asking if the Rangers
were not ready to relieve him of them. So the meeting called by Captain
Will Rogers, to be held in Range Hall, as the boys termed Pop Miller's
house, was for the purpose of learning the amount of the fund and
deciding upon its disposal. The speculations as to its size, and what it
would purchase, were as numerous as there were members, and as diverse
as were the characters of the boys. Little Cal Moody hoped it might
reach the magnificent sum of one hundred dollars; while "Cracker" Bob
Jones thought one thousand dollars would more nearly represent the
amount obtained. "That's what we've got to have," he argued, "for there
are ten members without wheels, not counting what I owe Reddy Cuddeback
on mine, and I don't believe even Mr. Burgess can afford to sell such
beauties as those we rode last fall for less than a hundred apiece. So
there you are; and if we haven't got a thousand dollars, some of us will
have to go without wheels, or else only own 'em on shares."

This statement from so eminent an authority caused considerable
uneasiness among the other boys, and they almost held their breath with
anxiety as Mr. Pop Miller wiped his spectacles, and, producing a small
blue bank-book, prepared to make the important announcement.

"Mr. President and fellow-members of the most honorable body of Ready
Rangers," began the little old gentleman, beaming upon the expectant
faces about him. "It is with gratified pride and sincere pleasure that I
contemplate the wonderful success now crowning your tireless efforts of
the past winter. I must confess that both your perseverance and the
result accomplished have exceeded my expectations, and I congratulate
you accordingly. As treasurer of the Rangers' bicycle fund, I have the
honor to announce that, with all expenses for entertainments, etc.,
deducted, there is now on deposit in the First National Bank of Berks,
and subject to your order, the very creditable sum of three hundred and
eighty-five dollars and twelve cents. All of which is respectfully
submitted by

  "P. MILLER, Treasurer."

"Hooray!" shouted little Cal Moody, forgetting his surroundings in the
excitement of what he regarded as the vastness of this sum. As no one
else echoed his shout, he blushed, looked very sheepish, and wished he
had kept his mouth shut.

The Rangers had done well, remarkably well, as any one must acknowledge
who has tried to raise money under similar conditions; but in view of
"Cracker" Bob's recent statement, most of them felt that their great
undertaking had resulted in what was almost equivalent to failure, and
were correspondingly cast down.

"It is too bad!" exclaimed Sam Ray, breaking a gloomy silence. "Of
course we've got to pay the thirty-five dollars that Bob still owes
Reddy, for that is promised, and, besides, I'm certain that 'Cracker'
has earned more than that amount himself. After that is done, though, we
shall have only three hundred and fifty dollars left, which isn't more
than enough to purchase three and a half or four machines at the most,
and that will leave six of us with nothing to show for our winter's
work."

"I move," said Mif Bowers, who having been a performer in _Blue
Billows_, was fully persuaded that he was cut out for a sailor, "that we
don't buy wheels at all, but put our money into a yacht, and go on a
cruise down the Sound this summer."

"Second the motion!" cried Alec Cruger, who, having acted the part of
Bill Bullseye, was equally anxious to put his recently acquired nautical
knowledge to practical use.

"The motion is not in order," announced Will Rogers, firmly. "This money
was raised for an especial purpose; and, whether it is much or little,
it must be devoted to that purpose."

"That's so," agreed Sam Ray, who wanted a bicycle more than anything
else in the world, "and I move that the money be sent to Mr. Burgess,
with the request that he return just as many wheels as it will buy. We
can take turns at riding them, and work all through long vacation for
money to get the rest."

"Second the motion!" cried Si Carew.

"All in favor of Sam Ray's motion say 'aye.'"

"Aye!" responded half a dozen voices, though not very enthusiastically,
for most of the boys were greatly disappointed, and did not relish the
prospect of several months more of hard work for an object they had
believed already attained. Still no one voted against the motion, and so
it was pronounced carried.

"If we had got the machines I was going to suggest a grand parade in
celebration of our birthday," said Hal Bacon, after the meeting had
broken up; "but now I suppose it's no use."

So the three hundred and fifty dollars was forwarded to Mr. Burgess,
together with a note from the Captain of the Rangers, stating all the
circumstances, and hoping that the owner of the coveted wheels would
sell just as many for the sum enclosed as he could possibly afford.

An answer to this momentous communication was awaited with such deep
anxiety, that during the next few days the Rangers fairly haunted the
railway station as though expecting to see their longed-for bicycles
come rolling, of their own accord, up the track.


CHAPTER II.

A NOTABLE ARRIVAL IN BERKS.

"Hi-Ho! Hi-ho!" The well-known call of the Rangers summoning them to
immediate assembly at the engine-house rang out, clear and shrill up and
down the quiet village street. It was early morning, the sun was just
rising, and though there was already much activity in kitchen and
barn-yard, the long elm-shaded and grass-bordered thoroughfare was
almost as deserted as at midnight. Still there was one team in sight,
and one boy. The former was that belonging to Squire Bacon; and, driven
by Evert Bangs, it was coming from the direction of the railway station,
where it had been to deliver, for the early morning train, the very last
russet apples that would be shipped from Berks that year. The boy was
little Cal Moody, who was earning twenty-five cents a week towards his
bicycle by driving a neighbor's cow to and from pasture every morning
and evening. He had just completed his task for that morning, and was on
his way home when he noticed the approaching team.

It does not take much to arouse curiosity in a quiet little place like
Berks, and the boy's attention was instantly attracted to the fact that
Squire Bacon's wagon bore a very queer-looking load. As it passed
through occasional level shafts of sunlight that were darting between
the trees it seemed to be full of flashes and bright gleamings. What
could it be? Cal stopped to find out.

The nearer it approached the more he was puzzled, and it was not until
the team was actually passing him, when the good-natured driver sang
out: "Here they are, Cal! Came at last on the night freight, and I
thought I might as well bring 'em along up," that the mystery was
solved.

With a great tingling wave of joyful excitement sweeping over him, Cal
knew that Squire Bacon's wagon held a load of bicycles in crates, and
that they were being taken to the engine-house on the village green. He
tried to give a shout of delight, but at first could only gasp without
uttering a sound. Then, as he recovered his voice, the Ranger rallying
cry of "Hi-ho! Hi-ho!" rang shrilly out on the morning air with a
distinctness that instantly roused the sleepy village into full
activity. The meaning of the cry was well understood by this time, and
believing that it now indicated the breaking out of a fire, every one
within hearing instantly repeated it, at the same time running toward
the place whence it first issued. So within two minutes the exciting cry
was sounding from end to end of the village, and even far beyond its
limits. Sam Ray heard it in the new house up on the hill, and Reddy
Cuddeback heard it in the mill settlement down by the river. Will Rogers
heard it while he was dressing, and rushed out without stopping to
complete his toilet. Thus the echoes of Cal's first summons had hardly
died away before every Ranger in the village was tearing up or down the
long street toward the engine-house, and yelling at the top of his
voice.

The first to arrive got there even ahead of Evert Bangs, and were
already running out the natty little red-and-gold engine as he drove up.

"Hold on!" he shouted. "I ruther guess your engine won't be wanted just
yet. Seems to me you boys get het up terrible easy. No, your 'Hi-ho!'
don't mean fire this time, nor nothing like it. What it means is
_bicycles_, and here they be. I was calculating to have 'em all unloaded
before any of you fellers showed up, as a sort of surprise, you
understand; but seeing as you're on hand, I guess you'd better help."

Better help! Wouldn't they, though? and weren't they just glad of the
chance? So many and so eager were the hands upraised to grasp the
precious crates, that, even while some of the later arrivals were still
asking, "where was the fire?" the last one was lifted out, carried into
the engine-house, and there carefully deposited.

"How many are there?" asked "Cracker" Bob Jones, anxiously, as Evert
Bangs drove off with his empty wagon, and the engine-house doors were
closed to all except Rangers.

"I don't know," replied Will Rogers. "Let's count them."

As all began to count aloud at the same moment, it is not surprising
that several different results were announced. "Fifteen!" shouted Si
Carew. "Eight!" called little Cal Woody.

"Oh, pshaw!" laughed Will Rogers. "You fellows are so excited that I
don't believe any one of you could say his A B C's straight through.
Keep quiet for a moment and let me count them. One, two, three, four,
fi-- There! I believe I've missed one already. One, two, three--"

"Here's a letter for you, Will," shouted Hal Bacon, who had been to the
post-office, and came running breathlessly in at that moment. "What's
all this I hear about bicycles? Oh, my eye! What a lot! How did they get
here?"

"Just wheeled themselves up from New York," laughed Will, at the same
time tearing open his letter, which was postmarked at that city. After a
hasty glance at its contents, he called for silence, and read the
following:

  _William Rogers, Esq., Captain Berks Ready Rangers_:

     DEAR SIR,--Your favor of 10th inst. with check for three hundred
     and fifty dollars enclosed, is at hand, and contents noted. As per
     request I forward by freight, charges prepaid, three hundred and
     fifty dollars' worth of bicycles, or ten (10) in all.

     I am greatly pleased at the energy and perseverance shown by the
     Rangers in earning this sum of money, which I may as well admit is
     larger than I believed they would raise, and I congratulate them
     most heartily upon their success.

     Tom does not expect to spend this summer in Berks, but is making
     arrangements for a most delightful outing elsewhere. In it he
     hopes his fellow Rangers will be able to join him. It is nothing
     more nor less than a-- But I must not anticipate, nor rob him of
     the pleasure of telling you his plans himself.

     With best wishes for the continued prosperity and happiness of the
     Ready Rangers, I remain,

  Sincerely their friend,
  L. A. BURGESS.

"Ten bicycles for three hundred and fifty dollars!" cried "Cracker" Bob
Jones. "And all of 'em first-class, A No. 1 machines. That beats
anything I ever heard of. If Mr. Burgess has got any more to sell at the
same price I'd like to take them off his hands, that's all."

"But he hasn't," declared Will Rogers. "Don't you remember that ten was
the exact number he happened to have?"

"And it's the exact number that happens to make just one apiece for us,"
commented Abe Cruger. "Seems to me that's about as big a piece of luck
as I ever ran across."

"If it is luck," added Hal Bacon, shrewdly.

"Let's open 'em right away," cried Cal Moody, jumping up and down in his
excitement. "It doesn't seem as if I could wait another minute."

"Yes. Let's open 'em!" shouted half a dozen voices.

"Hold on," commanded Will Rogers. "We haven't time to open all the
crates and put the machines together now. Besides, Pop Miller isn't
here, nor lots of people who have helped us get these bicycles, and who
would be awfully interested in seeing them opened. So I propose that we
leave them just as they are until after school, and then hold