Among the seriously wounded was a man whom Archie recognised immediately as one of his captors of two days previous, and while he was looking over the bodies for the other men, he came suddenly to brave Bill Hickson, lying face downward in the road. He almost screamed with fear that he might be dead, and when one of the men hurried up to him he told him who the man was. The colonel was soon on hand, and it was found that the brave spy was not seriously wounded, and would recover soon under proper treatment.

When the insurgent wounded were cared for, it was discovered that the two companies sent out to reconnoitre had also suffered losses, and when they marched back along the line of their retreat no less than five dead and about twenty wounded were found. This sad news threw a gloom over the entire regiment, and when they started back to Manila they marched in quiet, and without rejoicing over their victory, which had proved so costly.

Poor Archie, when they started to march, found, to his great disgust, that he was so weak he couldn't walk far, and he thought this must be due to the fright he had received. He was very angry with himself, until the surgeon examined him and announced that he had a bullet in his arm. And then Archie confessed that he had felt a stinging sensation at one time during the firing, but had thought nothing of it. Now his disgust was turned to great delight, for the idea of being wounded in battle was glorious to his mind. "I'll bet I wounded more than one insurgent," he told the surgeon, "for I discharged every barrel of my revolver." The wound was not at all serious, but he was told to be quiet for a few days. He was given one of the rebel horses to ride back to Manila, and he felt like a real hero in many ways.



CHAPTER XIX.

RETURN TO MANILA—IN THE HOSPITAL—CONGRATULATED BY ALL—WRITING TO THE PAPER OF HIS EXPERIENCES.

IT took the regiment much longer to march back to Manila than it had taken it to follow the rebels, for the wounded of both sides had to be carried, and the arrangements for carrying them were very imperfect. Fortunately, most of them were able to ride horses, and the officers were successful in securing wagons enough to carry most of the others, but there were about a dozen who could neither ride horses or lie in wagons, but had to be carried on stretchers all the time. Of course this was slow work, and the officers were glad enough when they reached the town with the three-story building. Here they found things very much as they had left them, two days before, save that the inhabitants were more abject than ever to them, now that they had captured most of the rebel force.

It wasn't an easy matter to find quarters for so many men, and some of the Filipinos were obliged to camp in the public square overnight, while the wounded and ill were given beds in the various houses of the town. The inhabitants were required to furnish food, too, for the Americans were entirely out of almost everything. They still had some hardtack, but of meat and coffee there was none. The people of the town pretended to be very glad to serve their "masters," but every one knew that the natives would be only too glad of a chance to cut the throat of every Yankee soldier.

The officers again occupied the old building which they had used during their former stay, and Archie was invited to share it with them, for they expected to rest in this town over the next day, before proceeding to Manila. The men's uniforms and equipment generally needed cleaning and repairing, and the colonel was anxious for them all to appear as well as possible when they returned victorious to the island capital. So the next day was spent in cleaning and washing, and by evening most of the soldiers looked as if they had never left Manila. Then came a surprise for every one, for into the town marched a regiment of militia from Manila, sent out to see whether the first regiment needed reinforcements. They set up a great cheer when they learned that most of the rebel force had been captured, and the night was spent in a celebration of the great event. A band was scraped up in the town, the great hall of the administration building was thrown open, and there was dancing and music until an early hour in the morning. All the belles of the town turned out to welcome the soldiers, hypocrites that they were, and they danced with their enemies as readily as they would waltz with their own dear Filipinos. Every one seemed to have a good time, and the soldiers went to bed just in time to get three hours' sleep before starting for Manila in the morning.

It was a great sight to see the two regiments, with the prisoners, march out of the town at five the next morning. They made a fine appearance in their well-brushed uniforms and bright equipment. The townsfolk watched them out of sight, and then most likely cursed them for a lot of vagabonds, but the soldiers didn't mind their curses. They were all very happy at the prospect of getting back to Manila again, and no one was more glad than Archie. He had somewhat recovered from his wound now, and rode in his old place at the head of the column, where he was the centre of interest to every one. The men congratulated him on having proved such an excellent mascot, and he laughed and talked with them until he was tired.

The outskirts of the city were reached about five in the afternoon, and as they marched through the streets to headquarters a band of music preceded them, playing popular and patriotic airs. The sidewalks were crowded with people, and Archie felt happier than for a long time, because every one was curious to know who that boy could be riding at the head of the troops, alongside the colonel. He was known to most of the other troops in Manila, and received many a cheer from them as they saw his arm in a sling, and when they finally reached the general's headquarters, he was honoured with a handshake and the congratulations of the commander himself. This was the climax to a very happy day, and Archie went to bed in his little old bunk feeling that he was a very lucky boy for having been wounded in battle.

Of course the next few days were very busy ones for all the men, and for Archie, too. He was obliged to tell, over and over, the story of his experiences, and how he had managed to escape from the rebels when they had him. This story always made the men roar with laughter, and increased their already strong contempt for the Filipino army. He told, too, about brave Bill Hickson, and that gentleman's cot was always the centre of an admiring throng of visitors, who shook his hand and told him how proud they were of what he had accomplished. And all the poor hero could do was to smile feebly, for he was still too ill to talk much.

Archie felt that he had almost volumes to write about his experiences in battle, and he did send a very long account of this encounter to Mr. Van Bunting. It was written in his boyish way, but one of the officers who read it said that it was the best thing of its kind he had ever read, so he wasn't at all backward about mailing it. All the other newspaper correspondents in Manila were wishing they had gone with the regiment and witnessed the battle, but they had stayed in Manila, thinking that this would be like the other expeditions of the kind, a mere wild-goose chase, which wouldn't amount to anything at all. They were all very anxious to get the details of the affair from Archie, but he was shrewd enough not to tell them anything of value. And the other correspondent of the Enterprise in Manila insisted that Archie should send a cable message describing the affair, as well as a written account, and this he finally consented to do. The correspondent added a long account of Archie's personal bravery, how he had been wounded, and how he had ridden back to Manila at the head of the column. Archie would have been very much embarrassed had he known this, for he was still modest, but the first thing he knew of it was from a letter he received a few weeks later from Mr. Van Bunting, congratulating him on what he had accomplished, and telling him that he had long since more than earned his six hundred dollars. But for weeks he was ignorant that any one in New York knew of his being wounded.

The days now began to pass as before in the camp at Manila. The wound in Archie's arm was healing slowly, but he was hardly able to use that member for a month or six weeks. Bill Hickson did not fare so well. He lay for weeks on his cot in the hospital building, and was hardly strong enough, for awhile, to talk. He was improving slowly, but the doctors said it might be two months before he was able to walk about and take his former active part in the campaign against the insurgents. This enforced quiet was very trying to the brave man, and Archie spent many hours reading to him, and telling of various things he had learned at school and elsewhere. This constant companionship served to strengthen their already close friendship, and it was soon known among all the troops that Bill Hickson and the boy reporter were inseparable. And every one who knew the story of their experiences looked upon them as the two chief heroes of the war so far, because as yet there had been few feats of bravery in the desultory campaigning against the rebels. General Funston had swum the river, of course, but many held that not even that feat compared with the bravery of Bill Hickson in serving as a spy under Aguinaldo's very nose. The more people heard about his experiences, the more remarkable they thought him to be, until at last he was by far the most popular man in the army at Manila.

Archie sent many interesting letters to Mr. Van Bunting, telling of the adventures of the brave spy, and one day he received a cablegram telling him to send at least one of these letters by every steamer, for people had become interested in hearing about him. So for some time Archie wrote about Bill Hickson rather than about himself, and was glad of the opportunity to do so. He knew that if a letter were published every week or two in the Enterprise Bill Hickson would soon be famous, and this was something he was very anxious to accomplish. He felt that no fame could be too great for such a man, and no praise too strong.

The commanding general decided, about this time, to begin a more active campaign against the insurgents. It was now the month of December, and with the beginning of the new year he wanted to inaugurate a series of attacks against them in every part of the islands. He was beginning to feel the criticisms of the papers at home, and of the newspaper men at Manila, and he felt that something must be done immediately to retrieve his lost reputation for active fighting. Every one, as soon as this announcement was made, wondered what plan would be pursued to worry the rebels into submission, for it was now generally agreed that the Americans would hardly be able to capture the whole rebel army. It was too evident that they were familiar with numerous hiding-places in the islands. The only thing to do seemed to be to prevent their getting supplies, and to drive them from one point to another, hoping that they would become discouraged in the end and submit to the inevitable.

So far the campaigning had consisted chiefly of such expeditions as that accompanied by Archie, and most of these had returned to Manila without having even seen a rebel soldier. It was not surprising, then, that the general was becoming discouraged, and that he was anxious to try a new policy.

No one knew what the new plan would be until one day several cruisers and gunboats made their appearance in the harbour. There had been no war-ships at Manila for several weeks, and every one was surprised that so many should arrive at once. There were rumours of a German onslaught, and also gossip saying that Japan had decided to interfere, but all these were set at naught when the general announced that the war-ships were to be sent around the islands to bombard the rebel villages, and to drive the rebel troops to the interior of the islands, where it would be hard for them to receive supplies.

This news made Archie very happy, and a plan at once occurred to him. Why shouldn't he and Bill Hickson be allowed aboard a cruiser? It would be the best thing possible for their health, and he set about getting the necessary permit from the admiral.

Bill Hickson was able to be about now, and he was overjoyed when Archie said he thought they could arrange to go. "I'd like nothing better than a voyage in the good salt air. I believe it will do me more good than a month in the hospital," he said. Archie secured a very strong letter from the general, and one day he stepped aboard the flag-ship in the harbour. He had no difficulty in seeing the admiral, and found him to be a very pleasant man to talk with. He read the letter carefully, and then shook Archie cordially by the hand. "Yes," he said, "I've heard of you, and of your friend, too. Every one in Hong Kong knows how you two together bearded old Aguinaldo in his den, and robbed him of most of his troops. It did me good to read about it in the New York papers, too, and to know that you are both getting your just measure of credit for the achievement."

Archie blushed, and assured the admiral that he didn't do very much, that it was all owing to Bill Hickson's bravery. "Oh, yes, I know," laughed the admiral, "you lay it to him, and he will most likely give you the credit. I've seen your kind before. But I like you all the better for your modesty, lad. Of course you and your friend can have a berth aboard ship, and aboard the flag-ship, too, where I can see you both very often. You can come aboard whenever you wish, and stay as long as you like."

Archie could hardly thank the good officer for his kindness, and hurried back to Manila. He found Bill Hickson waiting for him at the wharf, and they rejoiced together over the good news.



CHAPTER XX.

AROUND THE ISLAND ON A WAR-SHIP—BOMBARDING A FILIPINO TOWN.

IT was early one morning that Bill Hickson and Archie went aboard the flag-ship, but all hands were on duty there, and the gallant cruiser was raising anchor preparatory to sailing off on her errand of pacification by means of shell and shot, The two newcomers were assigned a pleasant stateroom where they would not be far from the cabin of the admiral himself, and where they could step out of their door upon the quarter-deck, and get all the fresh air they needed. It was a very comfortable place, with two soft bunks, and every convenience usually found aboard the fastest ocean liner. When the fellows saw it first, they could hardly believe it could all be for them, but the officer assured them that it had been given them by the admiral's own orders. So there was nothing for them to do but accept the kindness, and to settle themselves down to having just as pleasant a time as possible during the coming weeks at sea.

It was generally understood that the cruiser was to make a complete tour around the island of Luzon, investigating every suspicious port, and shelling towns when such action proved necessary to convince the rebels of Uncle Sam's superiority. The voyage was expected to occupy nearly a month, for there was no reason for them to hurry, and the admiral said he would like to take things easy.

Neither Hickson nor Archie had ever before been aboard a war-ship, and they both found much to interest them during the first few days at sea. Every movement of the crew, every action of the ship, was of great moment to them, and they found no lack of entertainment in examining the great guns and the equipment of the vessel in the way of firearms and ammunition. Archie became much interested, too, in the science of navigation, and spent much time with the captain on the bridge, or with the pilot in the lookout, learning as much as possible about how the movement of the vessel is controlled. Before long he had mastered the rudiments of the art, and the captain told him that he might some day make an excellent navigator if he continued to take as much interest in the charts as he did now. And Archie told him that he was determined to master as much as possible of the business during the voyage. Before he returned to Manila he knew more about it all than even the captain would believe he knew, and the knowledge was very valuable to him in days to come.

The two visitors aboard took their meals at the officers' table, and they kept the whole party interested for many days, with their stories of the war in Luzon and of their very unusual adventures both at home and in the Philippines. For it turned out that Bill Hickson had visited almost every part of the United States, and had lived in all sorts of places. He had been a cowboy in Texas, and a miner in the Klondike, and he had also been a policeman in Chicago. He knew more stories to tell than any other man at the table could think of, and he told them in a way that was wholly charming.

Archie found that every one was very much interested in hearing about his leaving home, and how he had happened to become a reporter on the New York Enterprise. No one seemed to tire of listening to his stories of his adventures in the great American city, and many of the officers told him that they would give a good deal to have had his experiences in life.

And so it wasn't long until the two chums were friendly with all on board, and after awhile things went along as though Archie and Bill had never lived elsewhere than aboard ship. There was nothing exciting for nearly a week. The cruiser steamed slowly along the shore, sometimes stopping entirely, while the officers levelled their glasses upon the beach, to see whether there were any signs of the rebels being there. Sometimes, if things looked suspicious, parties were sent ashore to reconnoitre, but they seldom returned with news that would encourage the admiral to investigate further. The days passed quietly, and the two convalescents enjoyed themselves well enough. They were both much improved already by the trip, and felt almost as well as ever. They each had a steamer chair, and hour after hour they sat upon the deck and watched the ever-changing panorama of the tropical shore. Now the beach would descend slowly to the sea, and there would be numerous palm-trees and luxuriant vegetation growing close within view, but again there would be steep clips, which looked menacing to a ship in the dark. But it was all beautiful, cliffs or sandy beach, and Archie thought he had seldom passed such a wholly delightful week.

But, of course, it all became monotonous in time, and every one, even the officers, longed for a change. The reconnoitring parties were sent out more frequently now, and every one hoped each time that they would return with news of the rebels, but they were always disappointed. The admiral now determined to steam ahead more rapidly, so that they might get around the western end of the island. It was evident that there were no insurgents along this shore, and as there were no villages of any consequence, either, he was anxious to reach the southern shore, where it was known the rebels had recently been gathering. The towns, too, were very numerous here on account of the excellent fishing, and it was hoped that some good work might be accomplished for Uncle Sam before another week passed.

Subsequent events soon proved the wisdom of the admiral's plan. The cruiser, it seemed, had no sooner rounded the western point than signs were visible of rebel activity ashore. It was one Tuesday morning that a village was sighted, built around a narrow inlet of the sea. When the binoculars were levelled upon this harmless-appearing settlement, it was soon perceived by the admiral that there were soldiers in the streets with the rebel uniform, and that the insurgent flag was flying from the administration building in the village square. All this was just what had been expected, and there was great rejoicing aboard the cruiser. Every man, without exception, almost, was anxious to be one of a party to be sent ashore to attack the rebels, but the admiral hesitated before sending any one at all. "It is impossible to tell from here," he said, "how numerous the rebels are, and it is quite possible that they may have a large force of men in the village. If the appearance of the streets is any sign, there must be quite a force of them in the place." But every one laughed at the very idea of there being a rebel company of any consequence in the place, and the admiral was finally prevailed upon to send a boat ashore, armed with thirty men.

"Remember," he said, "if you come to grief, that I advised against this venture. Don't be too bold, or risk too much, for though I can shell the place, that won't help you any, once you are captives."

But every one was anxious to be one of the party in the boat, and the officers had a hard time making selections. "You can go, Archie, because you're a correspondent," said the captain, "and you can go, Mr. Hickson, because you're a brave man," and then he continued to pick out men until the required number was secured. Of course there were many disappointed ones left aboard the cruiser, but the captain assured them that they might have their chance yet.

The boat was soon off, and it was noticed that there was great excitement ashore as soon as the departure was observed. All the inhabitants, it seemed, were gathered upon the beach, anxiously awaiting developments. They seemed to be absolutely ignorant of what the presence of a war-ship in their harbour meant, and were apparently not at all anxious as to the outcome of this visit. One of the men told Archie that they had probably never seen a war-ship before, and that they wouldn't know a cannon at all. "But we'll let them know the meaning of our presence," declared the sailor, "if they shoot at us." The boat drew every minute nearer the shore, and it was soon perceived that there were many soldiers among the crowd on the beach. Every one thought it remarkable that they should be so quiet, but not one of the natives made a move until the boat was within two hundred feet of the shore. Then one of the rebel soldiers suddenly raised his rifle and fired at the boat. The lieutenant in command stood up in the boat and gave the order to return the fire, and a perfect volley of shot was poured into the crowd, which immediately scattered in every direction. The rebel soldiers, however, seemed determined to stand their ground, and they were so numerous, and kept up such a steady fire, that it was deemed best to return to the cruiser, which was signalling for this action on their part. So the boat was turned about as quickly as possible, and the sailors pulled for the cruiser, amid the derisive yells of the Filipinos, who had gathered again upon the beach. The rebel soldiers continued their firing, but were such poor marksmen that but three of their shots took effect. One sailor was shot in the arm, another in the side, and still another was shot in the leg as he stood up to take aim at the rebels. None of these wounds, it was afterward discovered, were at all serious, though they were enough to arouse the anger of the entire crew.

When the boat reached the cruiser again, preparations were at once begun for bombarding the town. The natives still stood upon the shore, and it could be seen that they were immensely proud of their present victory. It was amusing, then, to see the change in their behaviour when the great six-inch gun of the cruiser belched forth a cloud of fire and smoke, and a burning shell landed in the village street, apparently just in front of the administration building, which was soon afire. The poor natives fled in every direction, and the rebel soldiers followed their noble example, and took to their heels, too. Another shell followed the first, and soon several buildings were burning in the village. The admiral watched developments carefully, and finally he decided that they would be glad to surrender the village if another boat was sent ashore.

Accordingly, the same boat started out again, with three new men in place of those who were wounded, and for sake of effect the cruiser steamed farther in toward shore. This time there were no crowds upon the beach, and the thirty men marched to the burning buildings, where the natives fell before them, begging for mercy. The soldiers were nowhere to be seen, so the crew took possession of the town and slept there, in company with thirty more sailors, that night.



CHAPTER XXI.

CONTINUING THE CRUISE—ANOTHER VILLAGE CAPTURED—THE ADMIRAL ARCHIE'S FRIEND—A GREAT BATTLE AND AN UNEXPECTED VICTORY—LONGING TO BE HOME AGAIN.

IT may go without saying that the sixty men from the cruiser had a very interesting time before the night was over. The entire village was in a constant uproar; the poor natives, horrified by what they had witnessed during the afternoon, ran hither and thither, some even leaving the place entirely and starting for the interior with their goods and families. The rebel soldiers had evidently gone for good, and a small party sent out to look for traces of them returned without learning anything of their whereabouts. The bombardment of the village had certainly had great effect.

It was only a tiny place, with possibly not more than a thousand inhabitants, but there were evidences that it had been formerly a flourishing town. There were fine residences in some of the streets, which were now quite deserted, and there were some very respectable business houses in the village square. All these had once been occupied by Spanish traders, who had been driven away when the rebels came, and if the insurgents had never come the town might now have been a booming place. But the rebels were lazy, as usual, and did no work, so that now the fine residences were vacant, and the business blocks stood empty.

Some of the sailors looked about for a casino, where they might be able to find entertainment of some kind for the evening, but every place of amusement was closed, and the streets were deserted. Since the occurrences of the afternoon all the people had locked themselves into their houses, to await the departure of the Americans. But, even though the casino was closed, the Yankees managed to have a good time. They sang and danced and played the banjo until an early hour in the morning, when they finally went to sleep, leaving only two for a night watch, for there was no danger that the insurgents would return, after their engagement, in which they had lost six men.

When morning came, some officers landed from the cruiser, and all the villagers were summoned to the public square and made to swear allegiance to the American flag.

In the afternoon the cruiser steamed away again on her errand of forcible pacification, and more days of quiet watchfulness followed, as the vessel steamed along near the shore. There were many small villages along this coast, but all of them seemed peaceful and free of insurgents. The captain even said that some of the people in them probably didn't know that there had ever been a war between Spain and the United States. Archie, who had enjoyed his experiences during the occupation of the last village, now began to be impatient again at the long quiet. The day when the cruiser bombarded the administration building would be a memorable one to him, and the succeeding events were just such as he had been longing to see for months. And then to think that he had taken part in the occupation of the village. It was all very wonderful, but very real, too, and for several days he took much pains in writing an article for the paper describing the events leading up to and including the capture of the village. And in the narration Bill Hickson was an important character. He had again proved himself a hero of the first water by insisting that the boat proceed when the first attempt was made to land, and by being the first man ashore when a landing was finally effected. He was a leader in everything that was done. He marched at the head of the squad when they marched through the streets of the village, calling all the people to assemble in the public square, and he stood beside the officers with his rifle handy when the ceremony of swearing allegiance was gone through with. When it was all over he was called to the admiral's cabin aboard the cruiser and congratulated for being so brave and so ever-ready to lead in any dangerous undertaking; but Bill Hickson simply blushed and said he hadn't done "anything worth mentionin'." The men aboard thought differently, however, and he was even a greater hero after this adventure than he had been before.

Archie, too, received the congratulations of the admiral. "You have been a brave boy," he said, "and deserve much credit for showing so little fear in the face of danger. I hope you will be rewarded upon your return to New York for your bravery while with us here." Archie, too, blushed, and said that he had no doubt that Mr. Van Bunting would treat him fairly when he reached New York again.

And Archie was now beginning to wish that the time for his return would soon arrive. It was the month of February, and he had been away from America an age, it seemed to him. He felt that he had seen most of what there was to be seen in the Philippines, and when this naval tour was over with, the active campaigning would no doubt cease until the rainy season was over. So for many reasons the boy wished he might be able to start home soon, and as the days passed he became more and more anxious to receive word from the Enterprise that he might return. He had sent many interesting articles to the paper, and would be able to write many more just as interesting upon his return, so he felt that the editors wouldn't object to his early return.

For an entire week the cruiser found no signs of the rebels, but at last there came a day when they were steaming slowly along near the shore, and saw, back among the trees, some specks of white resembling tents in shape. Immediately the whole vessel was excited, and there was much gossip and wonder as to what the tents could be doing there. The admiral at last decided to send two boats ashore to investigate, and gave strict orders that the men should be cautious and not allow themselves to be ambushed or caught in a trap of any kind. Of course Archie and Bill Hickson were among the crew of the first boat, and each was as fully armed as any of the sailors.

The two boats pulled quietly for the shore, keeping close together, and they were beached at the same time. The natives, or whoever occupied the tents, had evidently not yet discovered them, and the men halted upon landing to decide what they had better do. The tents could be plainly seen through the trees, and there was smoke rising from a fire somewhere in the neighbourhood, but there were no noises which could be heard so far away. It was decided to march up to the tents and find out who occupied them, and the column kept close together as they advanced, for things were so quiet it was feared the rebels, if such they were, might be in ambush.

The men got within a hundred feet of the camp, when they heard several terrible yells in succession, and several natives ran out from behind one of the tents, screaming at the top of their voices, and not pausing to look around at all. The officer in command of the company of men was much disturbed by this demonstration, and, without pausing a moment, gave the order to fire. Five of the natives fell immediately, but the other six kept running, and soon disappeared among the trees on the other side of the clearing. The men stood still awaiting developments, but though they waited several minutes nothing more was heard, and it was decided that the camp must be deserted. So they marched up to the tents, and then the officer almost fainted, for inside the first one he entered was standing an American flag, and scattered about were the accoutrements and camp equipment belonging to an American force in the field. There was now no doubt but what the tents belonged to an American regiment, and that the fleeing natives were either servants or prisoners, more likely the former. The men were all much excited at this discovery, and the officer ordered the natives to be looked after at once. It was found, however, that all but one were dead, and he expired within an hour, so that the men felt that they had killed five innocent men, a thought which made some of them weep, hardened though they were.

It was now decided to await the return of the regiment, which was out, the officer thought, on a practice march, and could not possibly be gone much longer. So the men lounged about on the grass for more than an hour. Then, about three in the afternoon, a rifle-shot was heard in the near distance, and instantly every man was on his feet, rifle in hand. "They must have found the rebels," said the officer; "so be ready, men, to help them out, should they be retreating to the camp." This supposition turned out to be correct, for a few minutes later some members of the regiment came running into camp and announced that a large body of insurgents was after them. Later the remainder of the regiment followed, and the joy of the colonel when he found these unexpected reinforcements was very great. "There must be more than fifteen hundred rebels," he said, "and they will all be on us here in less than an hour, for their sharpshooters have been following us up for a long time. I was beginning to think that we would be unable to fight them, for they seem to be well equipped, but with the cruiser to kelp us we can whip them at once. The thing to do will be to let them come on without suspecting that we have received any help, and then, when the fight is getting a little warm, or they are about to charge us, let the cruiser fire a few shells into the air, and it will all be over. Most of them are country troops, and have never seen a cruiser, so they will be too much frightened to speak when they hear the thunder of the guns, and see the shells explode in the air. And then they have a village about three miles back from the coast, and if you can send a few shells into that village it will simply ruin the insurgents.

"I had no idea of meeting these rebels," the colonel then explained. "I took the men out for a little practice marching, but before we had gone far we encountered these sharpshooters, and later discovered that they had all these men about a mile and a half away. Then we decided to return to camp as quickly as possible, to get more ammunition, and we felt, too, that we would stand a better chance of resisting them here among the trees. But now we will soon finish them up, if you will just send a man out to tell the admiral of our plans." Archie immediately volunteered to carry the information, and as he could be spared better than one of the soldiers or sailors, he was permitted to undertake the mission. So he started out, and was on board the cruiser in a very short time. The admiral was dumbfounded to learn that American troops were encamped on the shore, and in imminent danger of being defeated, and he at once set about giving orders with great vigour. "We will show them how they can attack a small regiment of Americans with their ridiculous army," he declared, and at once gave orders for the vessel to move inshore. "But wait," he cried, a minute later, "I see by my chart that there is a deep stream about a mile up the coast, and if I am not mistaken we can enter this stream and perhaps get very near the advancing rebels. We may even be able to destroy them before they have a chance at our soldiers," and the old admiral almost danced in the enthusiasm of this idea. So the cruiser steamed rapidly up the coast, and was soon at the mouth of the stream, which seemed to be the estuary of some great river. Then she steamed up-stream, and, sure enough, the admiral soon discovered the rebels marching rapidly along the road, about half a mile away. They had evidently not perceived the cruiser, on account of the high reeds growing along the banks, and the admiral gave orders to begin firing.

The first shell rose high in the air and exploded with a deafening thunder, and when the smoke cleared away it was seen that the insurgents were almost paralysed with fright, and had just discovered the cruiser in the river. But this first shell had not hurt any one, and another was immediately ignited. This one exploded over the very heads of the troops, and many of them must have been killed. Those who were not either killed or wounded turned about and began to run, and their leaders were powerless to make them stand their ground. One shell followed another from the cruiser, and hundreds must have been killed outright among the insurgents. Finally they were all running, and it was soon perceived that the Americans had advanced, and were now pursuing them with great energy. So the cruiser could fire no more shells, and the admiral ordered her about and back to the anchorage onshore.

It would take many pages to describe in detail the events of the remainder of that afternoon, as Archie witnessed them from the deck of the cruiser, and learned of them later from Bill Hickson. The insurgents were nearly all killed or taken prisoners, and it was found that they numbered nearly two thousand. So it was a great achievement to have vanquished them all. The affair turned out to have been the greatest victory of the war, so far.



CHAPTER XXII.

RETURN TO HEADQUARTERS—A LETTER FROM THE EDITOR, WITH PERMISSION TO RETURN TO NEW YORK—BILL HICKSON GOES, TOO.

ARCHIE left the cruiser when she was once more at anchor, and, going ashore to the American camp, he found things in a very lively condition at the close of the afternoon's battle. Every man was very jubilant over the retreat which had been turned into a great victory, and Archie was congratulated on having been the lucky man to carry the news of the coming of the rebels to the admiral. The officers were all in the best of humour, except the colonel, who felt somewhat sad on account of the death of his five faithful servants, as the men first shot turned out to have been.

"There were never any better men than they," said the colonel, "and I would almost as soon my own men had been shot." But he bore the ship's company no malice for their mistake, which he said was a very natural one.

After the capture of so many rebels, and the killing of so many others, it was felt that the rebel army in this part of the island was pretty well disbanded, and that it would soon disappear altogether. It had been known, from the very beginning of hostilities, that there was a large force of insurgents somewhere in this neighbourhood, but not until to-day had the colonel seen anything of them. But it was impossible, all the officers said, that there could be any more troops about, for these two thousand represented a very considerable portion of the entire rebel army. And now that these were done away with, the colonel said there was no need of his remaining any longer in this place, and that he would like to get back to Manila as quickly as possible. Hearing this, the admiral said he thought room could be made for all the men aboard the cruiser, and that they could all return at once if they so desired. This generous offer was at once accepted by the colonel, and the next day the work of embarkation began. By night every man was aboard, and a place of some kind had been found where he could sleep, but of course, every portion of the vessel was much overcrowded. This only made things all the more lively, however, and Archie, as well as all the others, thought he had never enjoyed any trip so much as these three days spent in getting back again to Manila. There was always fun of some sort going on. If some one wasn't dancing, there was sure to be singing. And then there were several ingenious games which were invented for the occasion, so that time never passed slowly. Indeed, there were many who were sorry when the capital was finally reached, but Archie was not among these, for he expected some mail to be awaiting him from the editor of the Enterprise. And he hoped that in this mail he would find permission to return to New York.

All officials were very much surprised when the cruiser anchored off Cavite, but the admiral explained that he thought it no use to spend more time in touring the island, even though the month which it was supposed to take him had not yet expired. He said that he felt sure there were no more insurgent villages along the coast, because it was perfectly evident, from all signs, that the rebels were all in one division. And this division, of course, had been vanquished four days previously.

When the report of the engagement went the rounds there was much enthusiasm, for it was felt that at last some progress was being made against the insurgents. The admiral was a popular hero at once, and Archie, with Bill Hickson, was again the centre of admiration and interest in the old palace, where they both returned.

Archie was surprised to find no mail awaiting him, but he was not discouraged, and wrote two long articles to send to the Enterprise. One described the great engagement, and the other was descriptive of the daily life aboard ship upon the return to Manila. These articles, with the others he had written during the latter part of the cruise, were sent off at once, and Archie felt confident that they would be read with great interest by Mr. Van Bunting. And now the days passed very pleasantly in Manila. He had a great deal to tell his comrades in the old regiment, for none of them had been out of Manila since he left, and were very anxious indeed to hear about the events of the round-the-island tour. And Archie was very willing to tell them all he could, for he had been much interested in the entire voyage, and never tired of talking about it.

Still, while things were very pleasant, and he was having a good time in many ways, Archie was very anxious to see New York again and to get back to America. And then, what was even more important with him, was the knowledge that he would certainly be allowed to visit his mother upon his return. Therefore he was a very happy boy when he one day received two letters from the Enterprise office, one from Mr. Van Bunting, and one from Mr. Jennings. They were both very encouraging and very friendly. Mr. Van Bunting wrote to tell Archie how delighted they all had been with his success in finding interesting things to write about, and he enclosed a check for three hundred dollars, which he thought "would come in handy now." The letter from Mr. Jennings was of later date, and stated that he had prevailed upon Mr. Van Bunting to allow Archie to return to New York, to work upon the Evening Enterprise. It was a very delightful letter, Archie thought. "We believe," wrote Mr. Jennings, "that we can use you here to very good advantage, and we will be glad to have you return as soon as possible. I enclose two hundred dollars to pay your expenses home again."

So now it was all settled that Archie was to leave Manila for New York, and, now that it was sure he was going, he felt somewhat reluctant to leave the soldiers with whom he had become friendly, and to get away from all this life of adventure which had been so interesting and so delightful in many ways. It was hard, too, to leave the dear old palace in Manila, through which he had wandered so often, and every room of which had for him some story of a Spanish prince or a great governor-general, wealthy and wise. There would be none of all this at home or in New York, but then there would be something better; there would be mother, and the old grape arbour, and the Hut Club.

On investigation, Archie found that the quickest way to get home would be to travel by way of Hong Kong and Yokohama, taking the steamer from there to San Francisco. It would take him more than a month to make the trip, and, as it was now the second week in March, he could hardly expect to reach New York before the first of May. He at once cabled Mr. Jennings that he would leave at once for Hong Kong, and received an answer telling him to do so by all means, and to continue to write letters describing his trip. Archie knew that these letters would probably not reach New York any sooner than he would, but he did write them, anyhow, and he did see some of them appear in the paper after his arrival.

Archie was overjoyed to learn one day that Bill Hickson had received permission from the commanding general to return to the United States, and he at once hunted up the bashful hero, and insisted that he leave at once, and make the trip with him. This was finally agreed to, and when it was settled that the two old chums were to travel homeward together the whole camp in Manila was interested in the news. They were both very popular, and almost every night before their departure there was a pleasure party of some kind arranged for them. One night they would give a regular "stag," as they called them, and then again they would arrange a sort of musicale, at which there would be clog-dancing, banjo music, and various games to increase the fun.

The four days passed very quickly indeed, and at last the day for sailing arrived. There was a great throng at the pier to see them off, and there was no end of good wishes and stories of the good times now gone by. When the steamer finally moved out into the open, there were three cheers each for Archie and "brave Bill Hickson," in which every man appeared to join with all his heart and voice. And there were tears in Archie's eyes at having to part from such true friends. It was hard to tell, too, when he would ever see any of them again. He realised that hereafter his path and theirs would probably lie in different directions. He was going to New York to work as a reporter, and they, if they were not killed in battle, would be scattered in all parts of the great United States, at the mustering out of the troops. It was all very sad, and even Bill Hickson seemed to feel the solemnity of the occasion, for he had nothing to say for many hours after the vessel had started on its journey.

Archie, too, felt homesick at having to leave, and they went to bed very early, apparently feeling that the best thing under such circumstances was to be asleep. And when morning came they both felt somewhat better, for Archie arose filled with hope for the future, and more anxious than ever to reach home. Bill Hickson, too, was not loath to return to the United States, even though he had no relatives waiting there to welcome him. The poor fellow had been through a great deal while in the Philippines, and his constitution was almost wrecked by the constant strain to which he was subjected. He had never fully recovered from his accident of several weeks before, and he felt that he needed a rest from the constant excitement and worry of life in the army. He was tired, too, of being a spy. He had never relished the work, but he had realised how necessary it was for the Americans to have some one to follow up Aguinaldo and let the general know of his movements. "They'll be a long time catching him now," he said, time and again, to Archie. "He's a much shrewder man than they think, and he knows his Philippine Islands like a book. He can go from one place to another without the Americans ever knowing where he disappeared to, and without some one to follow him they will never be able to learn anything of his movements."

Bill had received nearly two hundred dollars in back pay, so he felt quite rich, and Archie told him that if he should happen to run out, and need more money, he would be very glad to furnish it to him, For Archie was now determined to take Bill Hickson to New York, and introduce him to Mr. Van Bunting, feeling sure that the wise editor would thank him for bringing to his attention a man at once so interesting and so worthy as this hero of the war had proved himself to be. But for the present Bill would discuss nothing of the kind. He was thoroughly content to sit beside Archie on the warm steamer deck, and watch the ever varied surface of the Indian Ocean.



CHAPTER XXIII.

HONG KONG—A HAPPY TIME IN TOKIO—HONOLULU AGAIN—ARRIVAL IN SAN FRANCISCO, AND A GREAT RECEPTION BY THE PRESS—ARCHIE AND BILL ARRIVE IN NEW YORK, AND ARE THE HEROES OF THE HOUR.

AFTER a short and pleasant voyage they reached Hong Kong, and Archie found this city to be much more interesting than he had expected to find it. It was charming, he thought, to run across a place which combined the conveniences of England and America with the picturesque oddities of China and Japan, and he enjoyed himself to the utmost during the two days they spent there. Bill Hickson enjoyed the place, too, and they would both have liked to remain longer had it been possible for them to do so, but they were anxious to see something of Japan before sailing for San Francisco, and their steamer was due to leave Yokohama in eleven days.

But they did enjoy Hong Kong to the utmost while they were there. They called first, of course, upon the American consul, whom they found to be an exceedingly pleasant man. They learned, to their great surprise, that he had read of Archie Dunn, and of Bill Hickson, too, in the Enterprise, and Archie began to think that his paper had a much wider circulation than even the editors claimed for it. He thought it very remarkable, at first, that a man living in Hong Kong should have read about his Philippine experiences in a New York paper, but of course, after he thought of it awhile, it didn't seem such a very remarkable thing, after all. And after this, when they heard of people having read of them, they weren't so much surprised, having come to realise the tremendous circulation of this paper.

The consul did all in his power to make their stay in Hong Kong pleasant. He was anxious to have a formal dinner for them, but Bill Hickson said that he would much prefer not having to dress up, and Archie was willing for Bill's sake to forego the honour. So they spent their two days in going about the city, visiting the quaint Chinese shops, and seeing everything of particular interest. They found many wonderful things to look at, and Archie said that he couldn't imagine any more delightful place; but Bill told him to wait until they reached Japan, for he'd find that much more charming than Hong Kong. "I've been there before," said Bill, "and I know what I'm talkin' about, and I say there ain't no such place on earth as Japan for interestin' things to look at, and pleasant things to do." And when, a few days later, Archie was initiated into some of the mysteries of Japanese life by his experienced friend, he was willing to admit the truth of all he had heard concerning the land of the chrysanthemum. He found everything quite beyond his expectations. The people themselves were more quaint in their dress and manners than he had expected to find them, and the houses and the pagodas were much more picturesque than he had imagined they would be. And the whole atmosphere of the country seemed filled with romance and history, and it wasn't at all hard to believe that the Japanese have longer family trees than any other nation on earth.

They spent a few days travelling through the provincial districts of the little kingdom, and then they reached Tokio, where Bill was anxious to spend several days. "I know some folks here who can take us around and show us everything that's worth seeing," he said, "and we can spend our time to better advantage here than anywhere else I know of." And sure enough, Bill did know some people in the capital city, some pleasant English people, who had met the open-hearted Westerner when he was in the city years before, and who had at once appreciated the true nobility of his character. They were very kind to Archie,—so kind that the lad thought he had never before met such pleasant people. And they were thoroughly interested in all his adventures, from the time he left home late in the preceding summer until now. He had to tell them all about his New York adventures, and also about their experiences together in the Philippines, and his new friends showed the greatest interest in all he had to say, and seemed to find it all vastly entertaining. They were anxious, Archie thought, to make him have a very good time in Tokio, to make up for some of his hard experiences, and if this were indeed their object, they succeeded admirably in accomplishing it. Every day was filled with surprises, and every night Archie thought he had enjoyed himself more this day than the day before. They travelled about the city so persistently, on foot and in the quaint jinrikishas, that he felt that he knew almost every part of Tokio, and he witnessed every side of native existence, as well as the life in the foreign quarter. It was all charmingly new and interesting, and, as in Hong Kong, they were both sorry when the day for their sailing came around. And always since Archie has declared that no one can be more kindly hospitable than the English.

The voyage from Yokohama to San Francisco was slow and monotonous, Archie thought, for he was now very impatient to reach the United States, and he had also grown very tired of travel by water. There were some very pleasant passengers, but Archie couldn't see that he had a much better time than when he was peeling potatoes corning over. That was interesting enough, anyhow. The only break in the monotony was the day they were enabled to spend in Honolulu, and on that day Archie went again to some of the places he had seen during his first visit to the attractive city. And he called again upon some of the friends of his first visit, and found that most of them had read of his great success as a war correspondent, and of his many exciting experiences in the Philippines. They were all profuse in congratulating him upon what he had accomplished, and every one seemed to think he had been very successful indeed.

While they were in Honolulu a vessel arrived, bound for Japan, and Archie was delighted to find it was the same vessel upon which he had worked his passage from San Francisco on his way to Manila. He went aboard and met some of the friends he had made there, and found that they all knew now who it was they had carried as chore-boy in the galley. They all seemed glad to hear of his success, and to know that he was coming home as a first-class passenger. The cook treated him with much deference, and started to apologise for his treatment of Archie on the way over; but the boy stopped him, and told him that no apology was necessary. "I think I may have been an unwilling worker," he said, "because of course I didn't like the work at all, and it was hard for me to take an interest in peeling potatoes when I was looking forward to accomplishing such great things in the Philippines."

"Oh," said the cook, "you was a fine worker. Sure, I ain't had so good a boy since." And Archie laughed to see the change in opinion which is sometimes brought about by a change in circumstances.

Archie enjoyed the city quite as much as before, but he was glad, nevertheless, when the steamer continued her voyage east. And then he began to count the days until they should arrive in San Francisco, and of course these last days seemed the longest ones of the voyage. But they gradually passed away, and as they steamed ahead, coming nearer every hour to that dear land called "home," both Archie and Bill began to wonder how they would like it all, after their adventurous life in the Philippines. Bill, in particular, was doubtful whether he would again be able to settle down to a quiet existence in some small place, and Archie assured him that he must live in New York, where he would be sure to find things lively enough to suit him.

At last came the eventful day when the great steamer threaded her way through the beautiful Golden Gate, and discharged her passengers at the pier. As Archie and Bill had but little baggage, they were almost the first ones to leave the vessel, and were hurrying away to find a hotel where they could remain overnight when Archie felt some one touch him on the shoulder, and, turning about and seeing no one he knew, was about to go on, when a man introduced himself as being the San Francisco correspondent of the Enterprise. "And these gentlemen here," said he, "are reporters from the newspapers here. They would be glad to have you say a few words about your experiences during the last few months." Archie was quite dumbfounded. It had never occurred to him that he was a person so important as to be interviewed, but he was willing and glad to accommodate the reporters, and told them to accompany him to his hotel. Once there, he answered all their questions, and didn't find it hard at all to give them his opinion of the situation in the Philippines, and what he thought should be done by the government to stop the rebellion. "The President will soon put an end to it," he said, "if he can only have the support of Congress. But as long as there are members of Congress fighting his policy, the insurgents are going to continue their insane efforts to establish an independent government." And some of the reporters smiled to hear so young a fellow talking about the policy in the Philippines. They felt that he was well-informed, however, and put down every word he said.

The interviews over, Archie and Bill went early to bed. The Enterprise correspondent had telegraphed the news of their arrival to New York, and had received word from Mr. Van Bunting to send them on to New York at once. So, early in the morning, the two started for the East, and the train seemed to travel quite as slowly as the steamer. "It does seem good to be in our own country again," they said a hundred times during the days that followed, and when they reached the Empire State and began their journey down the Hudson River, Archie could hardly restrain his enthusiasm at being again in his native commonwealth.

There was quite a delegation at the Grand Central Station to meet them. Mr. Jennings was there in person, and he explained that Mr. Van Bunting was waiting anxiously at the office to see him. Then there were reporters from the various other city papers, who wanted interviews, but Archie was told to say whatever he had to say in the columns of the Enterprise, so he had to deny the reporters for the first time. Bill Hickson was introduced at once, and became the lion of the hour. Every one had read of him, and was glad to shake his hand, and poor Bill was quite bewildered by so much attention. They didn't linger long at the station, however, but hurried down to the Enterprise office, where Mr. Van Bunting was awaiting them. He grasped Archie's hand in his as they entered, and cried, "Well done, my boy, well done." And Archie felt as if he had grown three feet that instant.



CHAPTER XXIV.

DOING "SPECIAL" WORK UPON THE EVENING PAPER—INTERVIEWS WITH FAMOUS MEN—CALLS UPON OLD FRIENDS.

THERE was so much to tell Mr. Jennings and Mr. Van Bunting, that Archie didn't get away from the Enterprise office until seven o'clock in the evening. And what a lot they did say to each other during the afternoon! Archie told of all his experiences, and found them all anxious to hear about them. He learned, to his joy, that everything he had sent had been printed, and that the articles had made a great hit with the public. "We would have liked to keep you there longer, but we knew you must be worn out, and then we want you to stay right here, now, and see if you cannot get us some good interviews and articles of various kinds for the Evening Enterprise. The paper has been losing ground somewhat, of late, and we need some new life for its pages. Of course the morning paper profited greatly by your articles, but the evening edition seemed very weak in comparison, and we think it only fair to Mr. Jennings to let him have you on his staff for awhile now. So if you are willing, you can start in to-morrow as a member of the staff. We will see that you are well paid for what you write, or we will put you on salary, whichever you like. You can think it over, and in the morning you can tell us which plan you like best."

Archie wanted to ask for a few days' absence to return home, but he felt, somehow, that he ought not to ask it just now. So he contented himself with writing a long letter to his mother, in which he enclosed a very large check, money which he had not used on his return to New York. He told her that he would be home just as soon as he could get off for any length of time, and he knew that she would now be looking forward to the visit every day. She had written him about the enthusiasm displayed by every one over his achievements, and how proud she was of what he had accomplished. "I think I am the proudest mother in the country," she wrote one day, and this sentence made Archie very happy, of course, and more anxious than ever to return home. He received a letter, too, from Jack Sullivan, telling him how much the boys all thought of his success, and how every member of the Hut Club had longed time and again to be with him. "It all reads just like some book," Jack wrote, "and we are dying to have you come home and tell us all about it." Then his mother sent him clippings from the town papers, eulogising his efforts, and calling him the "coming man of the State." All this was very pleasant and very encouraging, and Archie couldn't help having a kindly feeling for the townsfolk who thought so much of him.

New York was as delightful as ever. It was now the last of April, and the trees were all green with fresh leaves, and the numerous little parks scattered over the city were looking their very best. The asphalt pavements looked clean and elegant when Archie thought of some other streets he had seen, and the tall office buildings lifted their ornate domes and cupolas into a sky of clear blue. "Surely," he thought to himself, "this is the most charming city in all the world." Fifth Avenue, with its crowds of fashionable folk, and its throng of vehicles, was a delight of which he never tired, and when he went into the Bowery, just to see how things were looking now, he found it quite as interesting and as dirty as in the fall.

But the first place he visited was the dear little square away down-town, where he had lived during those few happy days spent in New York. It, too, looked the same, only the flowers and grass were fresher now, and the fountain seemed to flow more joyously, now that spring was here. The house where he had lodged was as clean as ever, and Archie at once decided to engage a room here, where he could have his New York home. So he called upon the motherly landlady, and was glad to learn that the room he had first was still vacant, and that he could take possession at once.

As before, when he came to this house, Archie was almost out of clothing, so he went out and fitted himself with everything he needed. And this time he felt able to buy the best to be had, for he thought he had now earned the privilege to dress well if he liked. And then, when he had everything he needed to wear, he went out and bought many pretty things for his room, for he felt that he would like to have it just as cosy and home-like as possible. He wasn't able to do much at it this first night, but in the succeeding days he furnished the place in a charming way, so that the landlady said it was the "handsomest room in the house, sir." The dear old lady could hardly understand this great change in her lodger's circumstances. She worried about it very often, and discussed the question with many of the neighbours. "He come here last fall looking mighty poor-like, but, lawsy me, he's as fine now as any man on the avenue." And she never did understand it until one day she learned that her lodger was the "very young man who had been to the war in the Philippines, and writ about his battles in the Enterprise."

There was no ceremony when Archie began work on the evening paper. Mr. Jennings told him that he thought they understood each other pretty well, and that he could use his own discretion, very often, about getting articles. "You can be as independent as you like, Archie," he said, "and use your own ideas as much as you like." This pleased the boy very much indeed. He was beginning to feel now that he had really won his spurs, and that he was a full-fledged journalist. It seemed scarcely possible that it had taken him little more than six months to make this great advance in circumstances, and yet he could see himself a few months previous, sleeping in the station-house. Now his days of poverty were surely over, and he would have a clear path ahead of him to accomplish his great ambition to be a successful author and writer of books. For the present, it was good experience for him to be working upon the Enterprise, and he felt that he ought to be very much contented, since there were men old enough to be his father who were not earning as much money.

He liked the work upon the evening paper very much. He didn't have to get down early in the morning, and at three o'clock in the afternoon he was always through. He was very glad indeed that there was no night work, for he now spent his evenings in studying shorthand, which he thought might be helpful to him in many ways. He didn't have much routine work to do upon the paper in the beginning, but he told Mr. Jennings that he would like to get as much experience as possible, so the good editor gave him a lot of regular reporting to do, as well as the special work which was daily featured in the paper. This special work consisted of interviews with various successful men. Archie had always felt a great admiration for men who had "done something," and as New York was simply filled with wealthy and successful men, who had started as poor boys, he found a wide field for work. He found it very interesting to meet these men of affairs, and have them tell him of their early struggles, how they had begun on the farm or in the factory, and had worked themselves up through industry and perseverance to the high places they now occupied. He found it very easy to get access to most of them, for they had all read of his experiences in the Enterprise, and Archie found that his fame as the "Boy Reporter" was quite general and widespread. Some of the great men were quite as much determined to interview him as he was anxious to interview them, so that he usually got along very well by telling them first of his own experiences, and then asking them about their own boyhood days. It was work that never became monotonous, for each day he saw a man quite different in most respects from the man he had interviewed the day before, and of course every one had something different to say.

These interviews proved very successful when published in the Evening Enterprise, and Mr. Jennings had him continue them during all the weeks Archie was connected with the paper. And of course he did other things, too, work which took him into every part of the great city, looking up this event, or investigating this reported disappearance or murder. Archie was quite successful in this line, too, and, as he was being paid by the column, his weekly income was something larger than he had ever dared to hope for in all his life. He was now enabled to study his stenography at the best school, and to indulge himself in many things which had been denied him before. He could, for instance, attend the performances of grand opera, and hear the great musical artists of the world. He was able, too, to read the best literature, and he gradually learned to appreciate all the many good things in life. He was very glad to find himself broadening in such a way, for he realised that he would not always want to be a "Boy Reporter," and that he had better be developing his mind in every possible way.

He had not been back long in New York before he met all his old friends. One of the first upon whom he called was the good policeman who had been so very kind to him when he had no place to sleep. The large-hearted man was as enthusiastic over his success as if he had been his own son, and Archie felt that here was one true friend upon whom he could always depend. The policeman never tired of telling about that first night when he found Archie walking up and down Broadway, and he always spoke of him to the other officers as "that boy of mine." So the boy, who was now a full-fledged reporter, spent as much time with this friend as possible, and many a time he sat at the station-house telling them all of his adventures in the Orient.

Another friend whom he met was the great railway president with whom he had travelled to Chicago on his way to San Francisco. Archie had liked this man from the very first, and he felt that in him he would always find a friend, because he had shown such interest in his first undertaking. And when he called upon him in his elegant office, he received a very cordial greeting.

"No, indeed," said the great man of affairs, "I have never forgotten our trip West together, and I have followed you with much interest through the columns of the Enterprise. And I am glad that you are back again in New York, for I hope to see a great deal of you. You must come up to my house some evening and tell us all about yourself."

Archie was naturally much surprised to receive an invitation of this kind, but he resolved to accept it, nevertheless.

Bill Hickson was now employed in the Brooklyn navy yard. He had been featured for several days in the Enterprise, and had enjoyed the excitement of New York for awhile, but he decided he would like to be at work. So one day Archie learned that he was working at the navy yard.

"I've got to be with Uncle Sam," was all the reason Bill would give for his action.



CHAPTER XXV.

PRIVATE SECRETARY TO A MILLIONAIRE—STUDYING AT EVENING SCHOOL—LIVING AMID ELEGANT SURROUNDINGS.

IT was now September. Archie had been in New York the whole summer through, attending carefully to his work on the Evening Enterprise, and continuing his study of stenography. He had taken occasional trips to Long Branch and Asbury Park on Saturday afternoons, but every other day he spent in working up ideas for the paper, and each evening he devoted to the shorthand school. By this time, though, he felt that he knew all that was necessary of shorthand, and found himself more free to go about in the evenings. He visited his friends more frequently, and sometimes spent whole evenings in studying works on English literature, for he was ambitious to know more of the great work he had decided to make his own. This study was not really work to him, for his interest in everything connected with literature was so great that he found a pleasure in reading even the most classical books on the subject, and of course so much reading of this sort did a great deal to educate his mind along this line of work.

One evening in the early fall, Archie decided to accept the invitation of Mr. Depaw, the railway president, to call. So he carefully dressed himself in the best he had, and walked up Fifth Avenue and into the side street where the great man had his home. He rang the bell and presented his card, and waited in the drawing-room for an answer. The footman was gone but a moment, and returning, announced that the family would be down directly. Archie was very much pleased that he was to meet the entire family, and looked about him with great interest at the elegant furnishings of the room in which he sat. He couldn't help thinking how lovely it must be to have so many books, so many pictures, and so many works of art of every kind. The boy thought then that he would like to be a wealthy man, just to be able to gratify his desires for beautiful things.

He had to wait only a short time before the genial Mr. Depaw entered the room, accompanied by several members of the family. Archie was greeted very warmly, and introduced to every one, and then they immediately began an animated conversation, in which Archie soon found himself taking an active part, much to his surprise. He felt that he had never before realised what a great gift it is to be able to talk entertainingly, and this evening was a revelation to him in the ways of good society. He found that every one was much interested in the story of his adventures, and he talked more about them than for a long time past. He was now beginning to feel that his Philippine experiences were an old story, but he learned that they were quite as entertaining as ever to these people. But they did not talk entirely about Archie. They realised that this would be embarrassing to him, and they were careful to guide the conversation into a discussion of music and literature, and whatever else they imagined him to like. And so it was that the evening passed very quickly, and it was time to leave before he knew it. Then he was asked to be sure to call again, and Mr. Depaw, as he accompanied him to the door, requested him to call at his office on the following Wednesday, if possible. Archie promised, and walked home down the avenue, wondering what it could be that Mr. Depaw wanted to talk to him about. He didn't worry long about it, however, but went home and to bed as quickly as possible, for he had formed a habit of rising at six o'clock in the morning to study.

The days passed quickly until Wednesday, and the afternoon of that day found Archie in the waiting-room of Mr. Depaw's office. He had not long to sit there after sending in his card, for the busy man received him as soon as he could get rid of his present visitor. He shook Archie warmly by the hand as he entered, and then, pulling two chairs together, they sat down. "I have been thinking for some time," said Mr. Depaw, "that I need a sort of private secretary. Of course I have men here at the office who take dictation from me, and who fulfil the duties of a secretary to a certain extent, but I want a young man who can attend somewhat to my personal affairs; I want one whom I can trust, and one who is likely to grow as he works along, so that eventually he may be able to fill any place I may have open for him." Then he stopped a moment, and Archie felt his heart beating very fast beneath his coat. He waited almost breathlessly to hear what Mr. Depaw would say next.

"Ever since I met you first," he at last went on, "I have somehow thought that you are the kind of a young fellow I would like. You are ambitious, you are persevering, and you are willing to learn. You say, too, that you know shorthand, and I know that you are a good penman. You have seen quite a little of the world, I am sure, and I think you can prove yourself equal to almost any occasion. The only question is whether you will care to give up reporting for a position of this kind. I can assure you that I will pay you as much as you are earning now, and I shall be glad to offer you a home at my house, because I shall want you at my right hand all the time. Do you think you will care to take the place?"

Archie could hardly speak, it was all so wonderful, but finally he recovered himself sufficiently to explain his hesitancy in accepting the position. "I would like just one day," he said, "to consult with my friends on the newspaper. You see Mr. Jennings and Mr. Van Bunting have been very good to me, and I shouldn't care to leave them now if they object very strongly."

"That's quite right, quite right," said Mr. Depaw. "I can appreciate your feelings, and you can tell the editor that you will have some time for writing, and that you will contribute occasional articles to his paper." Archie was now delighted. "Oh, thank you," he cried. "I am sure I can come now."

"Well, come in at this time to-morrow," said Mr. Depaw, "and let me know what you have decided to do."

Archie hurried at once to Mr. Jennings's office to tell him the good news. He wondered how his friend would take it, but all his fears were soon put at rest. "Archie," said Mr. Jennings, "this is the best opportunity you can ever have to improve yourself in every way. Mr. Depaw is a man highly respected all over the country, and a man who is known to be extraordinary in many ways. Association with such a man will do more for you than four years in college, and you will make a mistake if you do not accept his offer. Of course we shall all be sorry to lose you here, but, as Mr. Depaw says, you will have some time for writing, and we hope you will always continue to do some work for us."

Archie could almost have thrown his arms about Mr. Jennings's neck to hug him for his splendid feeling, and when, a little later, Mr. Van Bunting said practically the same thing, he felt that he had never known two such men. He assured them both that he would never forget them, but would try and spend as much time as possible in the Enterprise office.

The next day he called again on Mr. Depaw, and told him of his decision to accept the place, and the good man seemed overjoyed. "I will see that you never forget it, Archie," he said. It was arranged for him to begin work the very next day. "You can transfer your things to my house as soon as you like, for your room is waiting for you, and I will begin to-morrow to teach you how to do things."

And now Archie found it hard to leave the dear little room in the quaint old square, which was looking now just as when he saw it first. The leaves in the trees were turning brown and gold, and Archie realised that he had been away from home more than a year. "Oh, I must go back soon," he said to himself, "or I shall simply die of homesickness."

In a couple of days he was installed as a member of the Depaw household, and he soon felt at home there. Every one was very kind to him, he was given a handsome room, and everything seemed almost perfect. One of the best things about it all was that he had access to the fine library, and he longed for the long winter evenings when he could devour the many interesting books he saw there. He was soon initiated into his work, and it was much easier than he had expected. Mr. Depaw, of course, started him very gradually, so that he learned as he went along. Every morning at eight o'clock he was in the library with Mr. Depaw, taking dictation, and receiving instructions for the day. They remained together here until ten o'clock, when Mr. Depaw either walked or drove to his office. Archie always accompanied him, and took charge of some of the mail there, attending to it during the morning. Then at noon he returned to the house, where he spent the afternoon in writing the letters which had been dictated in the morning, and in doing various things for Mr. Depaw. The evenings he always had to himself, and he had no difficulty in finding enough to do at home without going out. He almost invariably passed the evenings in reading, but occasionally he was asked to accompany the family to some musical event at the opera house, for they had soon learned of his love for music.

In work and study the winter passed quickly and happily for Archie, who now felt quite at ease amid his elegant surroundings. His only wish was that he might go home, and as spring approached Mr. Depaw promised him that he should have a short vacation. The suggestion of Mr. Depaw that Archie's mother come to New York for a week was heartily accepted by Archie, but when he wrote home Mrs. Dunn replied that she would rather wait for Archie at home. She had never visited New York, and felt that she wouldn't like it.

Bill Hickson came over very often from the navy yard, and was always a welcome visitor at Mr. Depaw's office. He didn't seem to care for his work in Brooklyn, however, and Archie finally requested a place for him about the elegant new station which the road had just constructed in the city. Mr. Depaw very readily gave him an excellent position, one which he could keep always if he so desired. And Bill was highly pleased with his new work, so much so that he surprised them all one day in the spring by leading into the once a young lady whom he introduced as his wife. Of course Archie was very much pleased at this new development, for he had often thought that his friend must be very lonely, living in a boarding-house.

The days were all busy ones for Archie now. He had learned the work so thoroughly that he was given more than ever to do, and he still continued to write, too, for the Enterprise. He worked too hard, however, and in April he looked so thin that Mr. Depaw sent him home for a week's rest.



CHAPTER XXVI.

DECIDES TO VISIT HOME—A GREAT RECEPTION IN THE TOWN—A PUBLIC CHARACTER NOW—DINNER TO THE HUT CLUB—DEMONSTRATION AT THE TOWN HALL— A TELEGRAM FROM HIS EMPLOYER LEAVING FOR EUROPE.

IT was a beautiful April day. There had been a light shower in the morning, and now everything looked as fresh and green as possible all along the railway. Archie lay back in his comfortable Wagner seat, admiring the beauties of spring, and thinking, too, of the days he spent in walking along this very road. It seemed hard to believe that he was now secretary to the president of this railroad, and that he was returning home, after a year and a half, a very successful young man. He had much to think of in the hours it would take him to reach the little town. He tried to remember everything about the place, and his mother as he saw her last, and it wasn't at all difficult for him to do so. But, oh, how he hoped that things had not changed! He almost dreaded going home for fear he would find things different.

He had changed, that much was sure. He knew that he had grown to look much older than his years, and he knew that he was not looking particularly strong. He used to be so sturdy, and he had such a splendid colour in his cheeks. Mother would be sorry to see him now, but of course he would be sure to improve very much during the week he was to remain among old friends.

He was very anxious to see his boy friends, the members of the Hut Club, and the boys and girls who were in his class at school. He had telegraphed his mother that he was coming, so she would probably tell the boys about it. He was sure they would be there.

Now the stations looked more familiar. This one just passed was near the Tinch farm, and Archie remembered the days he spent working for old Hiram, and how he had suffered. He wondered if the farmer had ever seen any copies of the Enterprise. It would be very interesting to him to know that his chore-boy was now a secretary to a millionaire. This next station he remembered very well indeed, because he used to come here every fall to visit the county fair, where he marvelled at the wonderful things he saw in the side-shows.

And now the train was entering the limits of his own town. Here was the old elevator, and the machine shop near the railway track. And, oh, there was his own home, looking green and pleasant as the train sped by. It almost brought tears to Archie's eyes to think that he was so soon to see his mother. Now they had reached the station, and he stood upon the car platform ready to alight. My, what a crowd there was! and why did they cheer as he made his appearance? All at once it dawned upon him that all these people were here to meet him, and to bid him welcome home. He could hardly speak as he found himself in his mother's arms, and then he began to shake the hands of the big crowd. They were all old friends, and then there was the mayor, and the superintendent of schools, and quite a delegation of leading citizens. How nice it was of them to welcome him in this way!

After awhile the handshaking was over, and the mayor was able to get a few minutes with Archie. "We are all very proud of what you have accomplished," he said, "and we want to give you a public reception to-morrow night in the town hall, if you don't object." Archie stared blankly at the mayor, and it was several moments before he realised the meaning of the words. Then he was almost overcome. It was almost too good to be true, it seemed, but he warmly thanked the mayor, and told him how he appreciated the honour which they had done him. He said that he would be glad to attend the reception.

The crowd was scattering now, and Archie, wild to reach home, took his mother to a carriage, in which they drove rapidly out to the little house among the trees and arbours. The old town looked beautiful in every way. The great maple and oak trees along the road were green with new leaves, and every dooryard was bright with snowballs and yellow roses. "This is the very best time of the year," he said to his mother, "and I am the very happiest boy in all the world."

"And I am the happiest mother," was the answer. Then they sat in silence until they reached the old home. They entered by the kitchen door, and, once inside, and seated in the old cane rocking-chair, Archie bowed his head in tears of joy at being home with mother once again.

The hours which followed were sweet with joy. Mrs. Dunn busied herself in preparing the supper, and Archie hung around the kitchen, telling some of the many things he had planned to tell. Mrs. Dunn was smiling, and Archie thought her the sweetest mother any boy could have. She was changed somewhat, but she looked very young to-day.

Supper over, Archie went over the fence to see the Sullivan boys, and he found them looking much the same. He was truly glad to see them, and they, of course, were glad to see him, too, though at first they were just a little bashful, remembering, no doubt, all the things which had happened to Archie since they saw him last. The boys were soon telling all about the Hut Club, though, and Archie learned to his joy that it was still a flourishing organisation. "We spoke of you every time we were together," said Jack, "and we always wished you were back again." Archie was delighted to hear that he had been missed, and all at once an idea came to him which he put into execution three days later. He determined to give an elegant dinner to this club of boys, and the very next day he sent to New York for a caterer to arrange it. He wanted it to be something finer than any of the boys had ever seen, and it certainly turned out to be so. The caterer did his best, and when, three days later, the Hut Club sat down together for the first time in more than eighteen months, they partook of a dinner which would have done credit to Mr. Depaw's table. It was a memorable night for them all, and every boy enjoyed himself.

Archie enjoyed this Hut Club dinner more than anything else while he was at home, though of course the great event of his stay was the public reception at the Town Hall on the second evening after his arrival. This was a truly grand affair. The town authorities hired a brass band, which played inside the hall and out, and there was such a crowd in attendance that many were turned away from the doors. It was a night that Archie will never be able to forget. He sat on the platform, in company with the mayor and other town officials, and he listened to several speeches congratulating him on what he had accomplished since leaving the town. Then he had to get up and tell them all of his experiences, from the time he left until now. He told it in a simple manner, but from the close attention he received it was evident his audience was deeply interested. When he had finished, there were calls for "three cheers for Archie Dunn," and they were given with a will. Then Archie, rising from his seat, called for "three cheers for the President of the United States," and they, too, were given, for Archie had told them all his feelings on the subject of the President's policy in the war. After this there were three cheers for Mr. Depaw, whom one man said would be the next United States Senator from the State. The meeting closed with some cheers for the New York Enterprise, and then followed a long siege of handshaking for Archie, who stood beside his mother on the floor in front of the platform. It was a happy night for them both, and Mrs. Dunn said afterward that she could never wish for anything more the rest of her life.

The fourth day of his visit was a Sunday, and, to Archie's joy, brave Bill Hickson and his wife came up from the city to spend the day. What a jolly time they had, all day long! They went to church in the morning, where they saw all the people, it seemed, whom they hadn't seen before, and in the afternoon there were many callers at the little house. The evening was spent quietly by the happy four, talking of old times and plans for the future. The town authorities were anxious to give Bill Hickson a reception while he was in town, but the bashful hero declined the honour, and returned with his wife to New York by the midnight train.

THE END