LITMIR.BIZ

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way.

      "I'll get some stuff for a midnight feast while I am at it," said Mont.

      Soon the school was left behind, and they came out on the village highway.

      "Hark!" cried Barry suddenly.

      "What is it?" demanded Mont.

      Barry was listening intently to a dull, heavy tramping sound, which was wafted faintly toward them on the breeze.

      "Do you hear that?" he asked excitedly.

      Link and Mont listened, and could distinctly hear a low thud, thud, thud in the distance.

      "What does it mean?" Link asked.

      "It means that a pair of ponies, or horses, have run away, and are coming along at a tearing gallop."

      As if in corroboration of Barry's words, at that moment a light phaeton, drawn by two high-spirited ponies, which were pounding along at the top of their speed, burst round the bend of the road.

      The vehicle was rocking from side to side, and every moment threatened to hurl it into one of the deep ditches which lined the road.

      As the boys gazed at the approaching carriage Mont's heart seemed to stand still.

      "Fellows!" he cried, "there is someone in the phaeton—a lady, I believe."

      "So there is!" gasped Link, in tones of horror. "What shall we do?"

      "We must stop them."

      With his face whiter than usual, and his lips tightly compressed, our hero ran down the road.

      "He is courting death," said his chum, beneath his breath, "but we may be of some use."

      And both started after their companion.

      Mont was running at the top of his speed, for he saw that the occupant of the carriage was only a young girl, and utterly helpless, and that every second's delay endangered her life.

      On and on he went, until he was within a score of yards of the maddened steeds.

      Then he planted himself firmly in the middle of the road and prepared for a spring.

      Fiercely the ponies dashed onward.

      Nearer and nearer they came, until it seemed they must inevitably trample him beneath their iron-shod hoofs.

      But our hero never wavered.

      Motionless he crouched there until the end of the pole almost touched his cheek.

      Then he leaped up and caught both the bridles in his strong, nervous grip.

      The ponies, with loud whinnies of rage, tossed up their heads and lifted him from his feet, but he clung tenaciously to them.

      They dragged him along the ground for a few yards, and then their speed began to slacken.

      Link now came up, and the vicious little brutes were brought to a standstill.

      Then Mont, thoroughly exhausted, sank in a heap upon the ground.

      As soon as the carriage was stopped in its wild career, a fair and beautiful girl sprang out.

      "Oh, is he very much hurt?" she cried, as she raised her clasped hands in despair.

      Our hero staggered to his feet, and as he gazed on the fairy-like form and sweet, delicate face his cheeks flushed and his heart beat quickly.

      "I am not hurt at all," he said stoutly, although his arms and legs and every portion of his body ached as though he had been upon the rack.

      "How can I thank you?" she exclaimed. "If it had not been for you, I shudder to think what might have happened. You saved my life."

      At this praise our hero blushed more than ever.

      "I require no thanks," he said. "I am rewarded enough by knowing I have been of some service to you, but I think you are scarcely strong enough to be trusted with such high-spirited animals."

      "My father would never have thought of such a thing," she replied. "He alighted at a cottage to visit one of his old friends, and while he was inside the ponies bolted. But here he comes, and I know he will be better able to thank you than I am."

      She pointed to the figure of a tall, elderly gentleman, of upright carriage and aristocratic bearing, who was coming up the road at a rapid pace.

      "It's Judge Moore," whispered Link; "he owns a fine place a couple of miles from here."

      In another moment our hero found himself being presented to the judge, who overwhelmed him with praise.

      "You must come and dine with us, you and your friends," said the judge; "there will only be myself and my daughter Alice. Nay, you must make no excuses. I shall call upon Captain Hooper and tell him all about it, and if ever you require a friend do not forget to come to me."

      Mont would have respectfully declined the invitation, but a glance from Alice Moore prevented him from doing so.

      He therefore thanked the judge for his kindness, and then the boys took their leave.

      Our hero simply raised his cap, but Alice put out her hand.

      "You will be certain to come?" she asked in a low tone.

      "Certain," he replied.

      The news of Mont's heroism spread through Nautical Hall, and he speedily found himself a decided hero.

      CHAPTER I. HOKE UMMER'S TREACHERY.

       Table of Contents

       Our hero succeeded on the following Monday in getting a quantity of cake, pie, and other stuff from town and hiding them in an unoccupied bedroom.

      He was also promised a dozen bottles of root beer and soda water, but these he was unable to smuggle into the school, owing to the watchfulness of Captain Hooper and his assistants.

      Accordingly, he hid the stuff in the bushes near the lake, and decided to go after it late at night.

      He unfolded his plan to Link, Barry, and Carl Barnaby, and this plan was overheard by Hoke Ummer.

      Next to the empty bedroom was a window overlooking the side playground. From this window Mont decided to reach the ground by aid of a long rope.

      This was the only way to get out, as after nine o'clock all the doors and windows below were locked in such a fashion they could not be opened.

      That evening our hero, with a light heart, repaired to the empty bedroom.

      Opening the boxful of stuff, he spread out upon a tablecloth of newspapers a prettily decorated ham, a couple of cold roast chickens, a fine apple pie, a quantity of mince pies, and a varied assortment of choice fruits and cake.

      All these arranged to his satisfaction, he looked at his watch, and then sat down and waited.

      It was just half-past eight, and in another half-hour servants and masters would all have retired for the night.

      After what appeared to the watcher to be an age the great school clock tolled solemnly out the hour of nine.

      Then Mont drew out a thick rope from beneath the bed and left the room.

      Soon he was at the window.

      Throwing up the lower sash, our hero fastened one end of the rope securely and threw the other out.

      "Just the right length," he said, and then he swung himself over the window sill. "I'll soon have the rest of the stuff up."

      The door of one of the spare bedrooms was opened, and Ummer stepped into the corridor.

      As the light of the

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