THE PLANTATION OF REDLAWN. One soft summer evening, when Woodville was crowned with the glory and beauty of the joyous season, three strangers presented themselves before the Grant family, and asked for counsel and assistance. The party consisted of two boys and a girl, and they belonged to that people which the traditions of the past have made the "despised race;" but the girl was whiter and fairer than many a proud belle who would have... more...

THE HOME IN ALSACE In the southwestern corner of the domains of Kaiser Bill, in a fair district to which he has no more right than a highwayman has to his victim's wallet, there is a quaint old house built of gray stone and covered with a clinging vine. In the good old days when Alsace was a part of France the old house stood there and was the scene of joy and plenty. In these evil days when Alsace belongs to Kaiser Bill, it stands there, its... more...

CHAPTER I The Mysterious Meeting on St. Mena's Island "We've made a proper mess of things this time!" ejaculated Ross Trefusis—"or rather I have." "It can't be helped," rejoined his chum, Vernon Haye. "We've done our level best to get her off. How long is it before the tide floats her?" "A matter of seven or eight hours, worse luck. You see, it was only half ebb when we landed." Ross bent down to remove a streak of bluish-grey mud from... more...

Chapter I. The Battle of Pinchbrook.   “Fort Sumter has surrendered, mother!” shouted Thomas Somers, as he rushed into the room where his mother was quietly reading her Bible. It was Sunday, and the exciting news had been circulated about the usually quiet village of Pinchbrook Harbor. Men’s lips were compressed, and their teeth shut tight together. They were indignant, for traitors had fired upon the flag of the United... more...

CHAPTER 1.–A Clever Capture. "I think that fellow is following us, Bob." "What fellow, Dick?" "The one on the other side of the way, the man with a beard and a steeple-crowned hat." "Yes, I see him, but why should he follow us, Dick?" "To obtain information, I suppose. He is certainly watching and following us and if we were to stop anywhere you would see that he would do the same." "Suppose we try it, Dick?" "Very well. I may get... more...

CHAPTER I BLOWN BACK "What's that, Schnitz?" "What's what!" "That noise. Sounds like a party coming along the communication trench!" The talk was in tense whispers, and the listening was now of the same tenseness. Two khaki-clad Sammies stood on the alert in the muddy ditch, dignified by the title, "trench," and tried to pierce the darkness that was like a pall of black velvet over everything. "Hear it?" inquired he who had first spoken.... more...

CHAPTER I A NEW USE FOR A DICTAPHONE The rain fell in torrents over the great battlefield, as Hal Paine and Chester Crawford, taking advantage of the inky blackness of the night, crept from the shelter of the American trenches that faced the enemy across "No Man's Land." In the trenches themselves all was silence. To a spectator it would have seemed that the occupants were, either dead or asleep; yet such was not the case. It is true that... more...

CHAPTER I. TERRIBLE ODDS. “Feels pretty good to be back in harness, doesn’t it, Hal?” asked Chester, as, accompanied by a small body of men, they rode slowly along. “Great!” replied his friend enthusiastically. “And it looks as if we were to see action soon.” “Yes, it does look that way.” The little body of British troopers, only forty-eight of them all told, with Hal Paine and Chester... more...

CHAPTER I THE EVE OF VERDUN On the twenty-second of February, 1916, an automobile sped northward along the French battle line that for almost two years had held back the armies of the German emperor, strive as they would to win their way farther into the heart of France. For months the opposing forces had battled to a draw from the North Sea to the boundary of Switzerland, until now, as the day waned—it was almost six o'clock—the... more...

CHAPTER I. MARCY HAS A VISITOR. The boys who have read the first volume of this series of books, in which we followed the fortunes of our Union hero, Marcy Gray, and described the persevering but unsuccessful efforts he made to be true to his colors in deed as well as in spirit, will remember that we left him at his home near Nashville, North Carolina, enjoying a brief respite from the work he so heartily detested, that of privateering. He had... more...