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Program Consultants
Jeffrey D. Wilhelm, PhD
Douglas Fisher, PhD
Kathleen A. Hinchman, PhD
David O’Brien, PhD
Taffy Raphael, PhD
Cynthia Hynd Shanahan, EdD
Copyright © 2007 by The McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc. All rights reserved. Except as
permitted under the United States Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may
be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or
retrieval system, without prior permission of the publisher.

TIME © TIME, Inc. TIME and the red border design are trademarks of TIME, Inc. used
under license.

Send all inquiries to:

Glencoe/McGraw-Hill
8787 Orion Place
Columbus, OH 43240-4027

Printed in the United States of America.

 Contents *

1 The Southpaw . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 18 El Enano . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119

Judith Viorst Charles J. Finger
2 Concha . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 19 Dragon, Dragon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127
Mary Helen Ponce John Gardner
3 The Scribe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 20 The King of Mazy May . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
Kristin Hunter Jack London
4 The Goodness of Matt Kaizer . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 21 Aunt Millicent . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .149
Edward Irving Wortis (Avi) Mary Steele
5 Ta-Na-E-Ka . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 22 The Sand Castle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169
Mary Whitebird Alma Luz Villanueva
6 Stray . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 23 The Gold Cadillac . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . 175
Cynthia Rylant Mildred D. Taylor
7 Eleven . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 24 Nadia the Willful . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
Sandra Cisneros Sue Alexander
8 Greyling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45 25 The Bracelet . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197
Jane Yolen Yoshiko Uchida
9 The Scholarship Jacket. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 26 Too Soon a Woman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203
Marta Salinas Dorothy M. Johnson
10 All Summer in a Day . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58 27 President Cleveland, Where Are You? . . . . . . . 209
Ray Bradbury Robert Cormier
11 The All-American Slurp . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64 28 Charlie Johnson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221
Francisco Jiménez Joe Smith
12 Geraldine Moore the Poet . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74 29 Zlateh the Goat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227
Toni Cade Bambara Isaac Bashevis Singer
13 Flowers and Freckle Cream . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80 30 Seventh Grade . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235
Elizabeth Ellis Gary Soto
14 The Fan Club. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84 31 May I Have Your Autograph . . . . . . . . . . . . 241
Rona Maynard Marjorie Sharmat
15 Tuesday of the Other June . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93 32 An Hour with Abuelo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 247
Norma Fox Mazer Judith Ortiz Cofer
16 Priscilla and the Wimps. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105 33 The War of the Wall . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253
Richard Peck Toni Cade Bambara
17 Don't Let the Bedbugs Bite . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109 34 Broken Chain . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 261
Ellen Conford Gary Soto

* Titles or authors here and in the body of the book are interrelatedly linked.
 Contents

35 Amigo Brothers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272 49 Flowers for Algernon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 379

Piri Thomas Daniel Keyes
36 Framed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 284 50 Born Worker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 413
Don Wulffson Gary Soto
37 After Twenty Years. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 290 51 Cream Puff . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 424
O. Henry Linnea Due
38 Loser . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 296 52 One Throw . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 432
Aimee Bender W. C. Heinz
39 The Good Samaritan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 302 53 The Medicine Bag . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438
René Saldaña, Jr. Virginia Driving Hawk Sneve
40 Lob's Girl . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 310 54 The Fire Pond . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 448
Joan Aiken Michael J. Rosen
41 Home . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 324 55 A Retrieved Reformation . . . . . . . . . . . . . 460
Gwendolyn Brooks O. Henry
42 Thank You, M'am . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 327 56 Welcome . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 469
Langston Hughes Ouida Sebestyen
43 LAFFF . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 333 57 Stop the Sun . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 481
Lensey Namioka Gary Paulsen
44 There Will Come Soft Rains . . . . . . . . . . . 343 58 The Treasure of Lemon Brown . . . . . . . . . . 489
Ray Bradbury Walter Dean Myers
45 Key Item . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 351 59 Volar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 497
Isaac Asimov Judith Ortiz Cofer
46 Charles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 355 60 The Electric Summer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 501
Shirley Jackson Richard Peck
47 Antaeus . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 361 61 Business at Eleven . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 513
Borden Deal Toshio Mori
48 The Tell-Tale Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 373
Edgar Allan Poe
 by Judith Viorst

Dear Richard, Practice the Skills

Don’t invite me to your birthday party because I’m not
coming. And give back the Disneyland sweatshirt I said you
could wear. If I’m not good enough to play on your team, I’m
not good enough to be friends with.
1 Comparing Literature
Your former friend,
Janet Author’s Purpose In this selec-
tion, the author uses letters from
P.S. I hope when you go to the dentist he finds twenty cavities. 1 Richard and Janet to tell the story.
EL Why do you think the author
does this? Does it make the story
Dear Janet, more entertaining? How do the L
Here is your stupid Disneyland sweatshirt, if that’s how you’re going to letters support the author’s pur-
be. I want my comic books now—finished or not. No girl has ever played pose? In your Author’s Purpose
on the Mapes Street baseball team, and as long as I’m captain, no girl chart, write “use of letters” under
the author’s purpose that you
ever will.
selected.
Your former friend,
Richard
2 Comparing Literature
P.S. I hope when you go for your checkup you need a tetanus1 shot. 2
Author’s Purpose This letter
shows you how Richard feels
about having girls on a baseball
team. Do you think the author
1. Tetanus (TET nus) is a serious disease that people can get when bacteria get into a wound.
agrees with Richard? Do you
A doctor gives a person a tetanus shot to keep her from getting tetanus.
think the author might be trying
Vocabulary to persuade or convince readers
of something? If so, write a note
former (FOR mer) adj. earlier in the Persuade box of the
cavities (KAV ih teez) n. hollow spaces in a tooth caused by decay Author’s Purpose chart.

3/9/07 10:14:38 AM
 Dear Richard,
I’m changing my goldfish’s name from Richard to
Stanley. Don’t count on my vote for class president
next year. Just because I’m a member of the ballet
club doesn’t mean I’m not a terrific ballplayer.
Your former friend,
Janet
P.S. I see you lost your first game, 28–0.
Dear Janet,
L I’m not saving any more seats for you on the bus. For all I
care you can stand the whole way to school. Why don’t you
forget about baseball and learn something nice like knitting?
Your former friend,
Richard
P.S. Wait until Wednesday.
Dear Richard,
My father said I could call someone to go with us
for a ride and hot-fudge sundaes. In case you didn’t notice, Meeting on the Mound, © 1994 Stretar.
I didn’t call you. Analyzing the Art Do you think the
artist meant for this picture to be serious
Your former friend, or funny? Explain your answer.
Janet
P.S. I see you lost your second game, 34-0.
Practice the Skills
Dear Janet,
Remember when I took the laces out of my blue-and-white sneakers
and gave them to you? I want them back.
C Your former friend,
Richard
P.S. Wait until Friday.
Dear Richard,
Congratulations on your unbroken record. Eight straight
3 English Language Coach
losses, wow! I understand you’re the laughingstock of
Word References Use a
New Jersey. 3
thesaurus or dictionary to find
Your former friend, a word or phrase that means
Janet about the same as laughing-
P.S. Why don’t you and your team forget about baseball and stock. Then test the word or
learn something nice like knitting maybe. phrase by reading it instead of
laughingstock in Janet’s letter.
Vocabulary
laughingstock (LAF ing STOK) n. a person or thing that is made fun of

088-091_U1_SEL_845476.indd 89 3/9/07 10:14:45 AM

Dear Janet,
Here’s the silver horseback-riding trophy that you gave me. I don’t
Practice the Skills
think I want to keep it anymore.
Your former friend,
Richard
P.S. I didn’t think you’d be the kind who’d kick a man when he’s down.2

Dear Richard,
I wasn’t kicking exactly. I was kicking back.
Your former friend,
Janet
P.S. In case you were wondering, my batting average is .345.

Dear Janet,
Alfie is having his tonsils3 out tomorrow. We might be able to let you
catch next week. 4 4 Comparing Literature
Richard Author’s Purpose Richard is
starting to change his mind
about letting girls play on the
Dear Richard,
team. Why is he changing his
I pitch. mind? Does this tell you anything
Janet about one of the author’s pur-
poses for this story? If so, write
Dear Janet, a note in your chart.
Joel is moving to Kansas and Danny sprained his wrist. How about
a permanent place in the outfield?
Richard

Dear Richard,
I pitch.
Janet

Dear Janet,
Ronnie caught the chicken pox and Leo broke his toe and Elwood has
these stupid violin lessons. I’ll give you first base, and that’s my final offer.
Richard

2. If you kick a man when he’s down, you are being mean to someone who has already had bad
things happen to him.
3. Tonsils are small organs in the throat near the back of the mouth. Sometimes doctors perform
surgery to remove them.

3
Dear Richard,
Susan Reilly plays first base, Marilyn Jackson catches, Ethel
Practice the Skills
Kahn plays center field, I pitch. It’s a package deal.5
Janet
P.S. Sorry about your 12-game losing streak.

Dear Janet,
Please! Not Marilyn Jackson.
Richard

Dear Richard,
Nobody ever said that I was unreasonable. How about
Lizzie Martindale instead?
Janet

Dear Janet,
At least could you call your goldfish Richard again? 5 5
Your friend, Did you enjoy reading “The
Richard ❍ Southpaw”? Explain why or why
not. Write your answer on the
5. A package deal is an offer that includes several items. Whoever agrees to the deal must take all “Southpaw” page of Foldable 1.
of the items. Your response will help you com-
plete the Unit Challenge later.

Analyzing the Photo Does the story you’ve just read change
your thoughts about this photograph? Why or why not?

4
 by MMary
aryH elen
H elenP once
P once
once

W hile growing up in the small barrio1 of Pacoima,2 my

younger brother Joey and I were left alone to find ways para
Practice the Skills
1 Comparing Literature
divertirnos,3 to keep ourselves busy—and out of our mother’s Author’s Purpose Start taking
way. One way in which we whiled away long summer days notes in the “Concha” chart
you made in your Learner’s
was by making pea shooters. These were made from a hollow
Notebook. Does the first para-
reed which we first cleaned with a piece of wire. We then graph give clues about the
collected berries from los pirules,4 the pepper trees that lined author’s purpose in writing this
our driveway. Once we amassed enough dry berries we put story? Does the author seem to
them in our mouths and spat them out at each other through want to entertain, persuade,
the pea shooter. 1 inform, or express her feelings?

1. A barrio is a neighborhood of Spanish-speaking people.

2. Pacoima (PAW koh EE maw) is a community in Los Angeles, California.
3. Para divertirnos (PAH rah dee vair TEER nohs) means “to amuse ourselves” in Spanish, or, as
the speaker in the story says, “to keep ourselves busy.”
4. Los pirules (lohs pee ROO lays) is Spanish for “the pepper trees.”

Vocabulary
amassed (uh MAST) v. piled up, collected, or gathered a great quantity of something

5
 The berries had a terrible taste—they were even said to be Practice the Skills
poison! I was most careful not to swallow them. We selected
only the hard, firm peas. The soft ones, we knew, would get
mushy, crumble in our mouths and force us to gag—and lose
a fight. During an important battle a short pause could spell
defeat.5 Oftentimes while playing with Joey I watched closely.
When he appeared to gag I dashed back to the pepper tree to
load up on ammunition. I pelted him without mercy until he EL
begged me to stop.
“No more. Ya no,” Joey cried as he bent over to spit berries.
“No more!”
“Ha, ha I got you now.” I spat berries at Joey until, exhausted,
we called a truce and slumped onto a wooden bench. 2 3 2 Comparing Literature
In fall our game came to a halt—the trees dried up; the berries Author’s Purpose These
fell to the ground. This was a sign for us to begin other games. paragraphs tell more about the
Our games were seasonal. During early spring we made peashooter fights. What details L
hint at the author’s purpose?
whistles from the long blades of grass that grew in the open
Write them in your chart.
field behind our house. In winter we made dams, forts and
canals from the soft mud that was our street. We tied burnt
3 English Language Coach
matchsticks together with string. These were our men. We
Word References Work with a
positioned them along the forts (camouflaged with small
classmate. Use a dictionary to
branches). We also played kick the can, but our most find the meaning of truce while
challenging game was playing with red ants. your partner uses a thesaurus.
Compare your findings.
5. When you say something could spell defeat, you mean that it could result in defeat.

Vocabulary
pelted (PEL tid) v. struck over and over again EL

Red ants are also known as fire ants

because their painful stings can cause
blisters, and even death.

3/9/07 10:18:06 AM
 The ants were of the common
variety: red, round and treacherous.
They invaded our yard and the llano6
every summer. We always knew
where ants could be found, donde
habia hormigas.7 We liked to build
mud and grass forts smack in the
middle of ant territory. The ants
were the enemy, the matchstickmen
the heroes, or good guys.
Playing with ants was a real
challenge! While placing our men in
battle positions we timed it so as not
to get bitten. We delighted in beating the ants at their own game. La Nina del Chupetin. Graciela Genoves
(b. 1962). Zurbaran Galeria, Buenos
Sometimes we got really brave and picked up ants with a stick, Aires, Argentina.
then twirled the stick around until the ants got dizzy-drunk (or Analyzing the Art What feeling do you
so we thought)—and fell to the ground. We made ridges of dirt get from this picture? Is it similar to the
feeling you get from reading the story?
and pushed the ants inside, covered them with dirt and made Explain.
bets as to how long it would take them to dig their way out.
Concha, my best friend and neighbor, was quite timid at Practice the Skills
school. She avoided all rough games such as kickball and Red
Rover. When it came to playing with ants however, Concha
held first place for bravery. She could stand with her feet atop
an anthill for the longest time! We stood trembling as ants
crawled up our shoes, then quickly stomped our feet to scare
them off. But Concha never lost her nerve. 4 4 English Language Coach
One time we decided to have an ant contest. The prize was a Word References Do you
candy bar—a Sugar Daddy sucker. We first found an anthill, know any other words for timid?
lined up, then took turns standing beside the anthill while the List them in your Learner’s
Notebook. Then look up timid
juicy red ants climbed over our shoes. We dared not move—
in a thesaurus. List any new
but when the first ant moved towards our ankles we stomped synonyms (words that mean
away, our Oxfords making swirls of dust that allowed us to the same thing) you find there.
retreat to the sidelines. But not Concha. She remained in place
as big red ants crept up her shoes. One, five, ten! We stood and
5 English Language Coach
counted, holding our breath as the ants continued to climb.
Word References Look up
Fifteen, twenty! Twenty ants were crawling over Concha! 5
retreat in a dictionary. What did
everyone except Concha do?
6. Llano (YAH noh) is the Spanish word for “flat ground.”
7. Donde habia hormigos (DOHN day ah BEE ah or MEE gohs) means “where ants lived.”

Vocabulary
treacherous (TRECH ur us) adj. dangerous and unpredictable

7
 “Ujule,8 she sure ain’t scared,”
cried Mundo in a hushed voice.
“No le tiene miedo a las hormigas.”9
“Uhhhhh,” answered Beto, his
eyes wide.
“. . . I mean for a girl,” added
Mundo as he poked Beto in the ribs.
We knew Beto liked Concha—and
always came to her rescue.
We stood and counted ants. We
were so caught up in this feat that
we failed to notice the twenty-first
ant that climbed up the back of Concha’s sock . . . and bit her! Children’s Games, 1959. Rufino Tamayo.
“Ay, ay, ay,” screeched Concha. Oil on canvas. The Metropolitan Museum
of Art, New York.
“Gosh, she’s gonna die,” cried an alarmed Virgie as she Analyzing the Art Does this picture
helped stomp out ants. “She’s gonna die!” look to you like children playing games?
Explain why or why not.
“She’s too stupid to die,” laughed Mundo, busy brushing
ants off his feet. “She’s too stupid.”
“But sometimes people die when ants bite them,” insisted
Virgie, her face pale. “They gets real sick.”
“The ants will probably die,” Mundo snickered, holding his
stomach and laughing loudly. “Ah, ha, ha.”
“Gosh you’re mean,” said a shocked Virgie, hands on hips.
“You are so mean.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t stupid.” 6
“Come on you guys, let’s get her to the mangera,”10 Beto
cried as he reached out to Concha who by now had decided
she would live. “Come on, let’s take her to the faucet.”
We held Concha by the waist as she hobbled11 to the water
faucet. Her cries were now mere12 whimpers as no grownup had
come out to investigate. From experience we knew that if a first
Practice the Skills
cry did not bring someone to our aid we should stop crying—or 6 Comparing Literature
go home. Author’s Purpose Reread the
page up to this point. What clues
8. Ujule (oo HOO lay) is a Spanish exclamation that means something like “Oh my!” or “Wow!” do you see about the author’s
9. No le tiene miedo (noh lay TYEH nay mee AY doh) a las hormigas means “She’s not afraid purpose? Look especially at the
of the ants.”
sentences “She’s too stupid to
10. Mangera (mahn HAY raw) is Spanish for “faucet.” die” and “The ants will probably
11. Hobbled means “walked with a limp.” die.” Based on those sentences,
12. Mere is another word for “only” or “nothing more than.” is the author trying to entertain,
to persuade, to explain, or to
Vocabulary express feelings? Explain your
feat (feet) n. an act that shows skill, strength, or courage answer.

8
 We helped Concha to the faucet, turned it on and began to mix Practice the Skills
water with dirt. We knew the best remedy for insect bites was
lodo.13 We applied mud to all bug stings to stop the swelling.
Mud was especially good for wasp stings, the yellowjackets
we so feared—and from which we ran away at top speed.
Whenever bees came close we stood still until they flew away,
but there were no set rules on how to get rid of avispas.14
We hit out at them, and tried to scare them off but the
yellowjackets were fierce! In desperation15 we flung dirt at
them, screamed and ran home.
Not long after the ant incident Concha
decided she was not about to run when a
huge wasp broke up our game of jacks.
She stood still, so still the wasp remained
on her dark head for what seemed like
hours. We stood and watched, thinking 7 English Language Coach
Visual Vocabulary
Jacks is a game in perhaps the wasp had mistaken Concha’s Word References Do you
which the object is to know what indifferent means?
pick up a number of curly hair for a bush! We watched—and
Look up this word in a dictionary
small, six-pointed waited. or thesaurus. Then explain its
metal pieces while
bouncing and catching
“Ujule, she sure is brave,” exclaimed meaning to a partner.
a small rubber ball Virgie as she sucked on a popsicle. “She
with the same hand. sure is brave.”
“She’s stupid,” grunted Mundo, trying 8 Comparing Literature
to be indifferent. “She’s just a big show-off who thinks she’s Author’s Purpose The selec-
so big.” 7 tion ends with a story about
Concha and a huge wasp. Talk
“So are you,” began Virgie, backing off. “So are you.”
with a partner about the story.
“Yeah? Ya wanna make something outta it?” Discuss its effect on you. Did you
“Let’s go,” interrupted Beto in his soft voice. enjoy it? In your chart, add any
“Ya vamonos.”16 He smiled at Concha—who smiled back. details from the end of the story
In time the wasp flew away. Concha immediately began to that give clues about the author’s
brag about how a “real big wasp” sat on her hair for hours. purpose.
She never mentioned the ant contest—nor the twenty-first ant
that led her to el lodo. 8 9 ❍
9 What kinds of books or maga-
zines do you think the kids in
this story might have liked to
13. Lodo (LOH doh) means “mud.”
read? Write your answer on the
14. Avispas (ah VEES pahs) are wasps.
“Concha” page of Foldable 1.
15. When you do something in desperation, you have usually run out of ideas about what to do.
Your response will help you com-
16. Ya vamonos (yah VAH moh nohs) means “Let’s go.” plete the Unit Challenge later.

Vocabulary
incident (IN suh dunt) n. an event or situation

9
by Kristin Hunter

W e been living in the apartment over the Silver Dollar

Check Cashing Service five years. But I never had any reason
to go in there till two days ago, when Mom had to go to the
Wash-a-Mat and asked me to get some change.
And man! Are those people who come in there in some
bad shape.
Old man Silver and old man Dollar, who own the place,
have signs tacked up everywhere:

NO LOUNGING, NO LOITERING1
THIS IS NOT A WAITING ROOM
and
MINIMUM CHECK CASHING FEE, 50¢
and
LETTERS ADDRESSED, 50¢
and
LETTERS READ, 75¢
and
LETTERS WRITTEN, ONE DOLLAR

1. Loitering (LOY tur ing) is staying around without a purpose.

10
 And everybody who comes in there to
cash a check gets their picture taken like
they’re some kind of criminal.
After I got my change, I stood around for
a while digging the action. First comes an
old lady with some kind of long form to fill
out. The mean old man behind the counter
points to the “One Dollar” sign. She nods.
So he starts to fill it out for her.
“Name?”
“Muskogee Marie Lawson.”
“SPELL it!” he hollers.
“M, m, u, s—well, I don’t exactly know, sir.”
“I’ll put down ‘Marie,’ then. Age?”
“Sixty-three my last birthday.”
“Date of birth?”
“March twenty-third”—a pause—“I
think, 1900.”
“Look, Marie,” he says, which makes me
mad, hearing him first-name a dignified old
gray-haired lady like that, “if you’d been
born in 1900, you’d be seventy-two. Either I
put that down, or I put 1910.”
“Whatever you think best, sir,” she says
timidly.
Analyzing the Photo This store might look like the Silver Dollar
Check Cashing Service. What words would you use to describe
the way the store looks?
11
He sighs, rolls his eyes to the ceiling, and
bangs his fist on the form angrily. Then he
fills out the rest.
“One dollar,” he says when he’s finished.
She pays like she’s grateful to him for
taking the trouble.
Next is a man with a cane, a veteran2
who has to let the government know he
moved. He wants old man Silver to do this
for him, but he doesn’t want him to know
he can’t do it himself.
“My eyes are kind of bad, sir. Will you fill
this thing out for me? Tell them I moved
from 121 South 15th Street to 203 North
Decatur Street.”
Old man Silver doesn’t blink an eye. Just
fills out the form, and charges the crippled
man a dollar.
And it goes on like that. People who can’t
read or write or count their change. People
who don’t know how to pay their gas bills,
don’t know how to fill out forms, don’t
know how to address envelopes. And old
man Silver and old man Dollar cleaning up
on all of them. It’s pitiful. It’s disgusting.
Makes me so mad I want to yell.
And I do, but mostly at Mom. “Mom, did
you know there are hundreds of people in
this city who can’t read and write?”
Mom isn’t upset. She’s a wise woman. “Of
course, James,” she says. “A lot of the older
people around here haven’t had your
advantages. They came from down South,
and they had to quit school very young to
go to work.
“In the old days, nobody cared whether
our people got an education. They were
only interested in getting the crops in.” She
sighed. “Sometimes I think they still don’t
2. A veteran (VEH tuh run) is someone who has served in the armed
services.
 and the judges.4 No one else
could do it.
“Jesus criticized the scribes,”
she goes on, “because they
were so proud of themselves.
But he needed them to write
down his teachings.”
“Man,” I said when she
finished, “that’s something.”

My mind was working

The Arab Scribe, Cairo. John Frederick Lewis, (1805–1876).
Private Collection.
care. If we hadn’t gotten you into that good
school, you might not be able to read so
well either. A lot of boys and girls your age
can’t, you know.”
“But that’s awful!” I say. “How do they
expect us to make it in a big city? You can’t
even cross the streets if you can’t read the
‘Walk’ and ‘Don’t Walk’ signs.”
“It’s hard,” Mom says, “but the important
thing to remember is it’s no disgrace. There
was a time in history when nobody could
read or write except a special class of
people.”
And Mom takes down her Bible. She has
three Bible study certificates and is always
giving me lessons from Bible history. I don’t
exactly go for all the stuff she believes in,
but sometimes it is interesting.
“In ancient times,” she says, “no one
could read or write except a special class of
people known as scribes.3 It was their job to
write down the laws given by the rabbis
double time. I’m the best
reader and writer in our class.
Also it was summertime. I
had nothing much to do
except go to the park or hang around the
library and read till my eyeballs were ready
to fall out, and I was tired of doing both.
So the next morning, after my parents
went to work, I took Mom’s card table and a
folding chair down to the sidewalk. I
lettered a sign with a Magic Marker, and I
was in business. My sign said:
PUBLIC SCRIBE—ALL SERVICES FREE
I set my table up in front of the Silver
Dollar and waited for business. Only one
thing bothered me. If the people couldn’t
read, how would they know what I was
there for?
But five minutes had hardly passed when
an old lady stopped and asked me to read
her grandson’s letter. She explained that she
had just broken her glasses. I knew she was
fibbing, but I kept quiet.
I read the grandson’s letter. It said he was
having a fine time in California but was a

3. Scribes were educated people who served as copyists, editors, 4. The rabbis and the judges were the teachers and rulers of the
and teachers. ancient Hebrews.

12
little short. He would send her some money
as soon as he made another payday. I
handed the letter back to her.
“Thank you, son,” she said, and gave me
a quarter.
I handed that back to her too.
The word got around. By noontime I had
a whole crowd of customers around my
table. I was kept busy writing letters,
addressing envelopes, filling out forms,
and explaining official-looking letters that
scared people half to death.
I didn’t blame them. The language in
some of those letters—“Establish whether
your disability is one-fourth, one-third,
one-half, or total, and substantiate5 in
paragraph 3 (b) below”—would upset
anybody. I mean, why can’t the government
write English like everybody else?
Most of my customers were old, but there
were a few young ones too. Like the girl
who had gotten a letter about her baby
from the Health Service and didn’t know
what “immunization”6 meant.
At noontime one old lady brought me some
iced tea and a peach, and another gave me
some fried chicken wings. I was really having
a good time when the shade of all the people
standing around me suddenly vanished.
The sun hit me like a ton of hot bricks.
Only one long shadow fell across my
table. The shadow of a tall, heavy, blue-eyed
cop. In our neighborhood, when they see a
cop, people scatter. That was why the back
of my neck was burning.
“What are you trying to do here, sonny?”
the cop asks.
5. When you substantiate something, you give evidence to prove
a claim.
6. An immunization (im yuh nuh ZAY shun) is medicine given to
protect against disease.
13
“Help people out,” I tell him calmly,
though my knees are knocking together
under the table.
“Well, you know,” he says, “Mr. Silver
and Mr. Dollar have been in business a long
time on this corner. They are very respected
men in this neighborhood. Are you trying
to run them out of business?”
“I’m not charging anybody,” I pointed out.
“That,” the cop says, “is exactly what
they don’t like. Mr. Silver says he is glad
to have some help with the letter writing.
Mr. Dollar says it’s only a nuisance7 to them
anyway and takes up too much time. But
if you don’t charge for your services, it’s
unfair competition.”
Well, why not? I thought. After all, I
could use a little profit.
“All right,” I tell him. “I’ll charge a quarter.”
“Then it is my duty to warn you,” the cop
says, “that it’s against the law to conduct a
business without a license. The first time
you accept a fee, I’ll close you up and run
you off this corner.”
He really had me there. What did I know
about licenses? I’m only thirteen, after all.
Suddenly I didn’t feel like the big black
businessman anymore. I felt like a little kid
who wanted to holler for his mother. But
she was at work, and so was Daddy.
“I’ll leave,” I said, and did, with all the
cool I could muster. But inside I was
burning up, and not from the sun.
One little old lady hollered “You big
bully!” and shook her umbrella at the cop.
But the rest of those people were so beaten
down they didn’t say anything. Just
7. A nuisance (NOO sunts) is something that is annoying or
unpleasant.
shuffled back on inside to give Mr. Silver
and Mr. Dollar their hard-earned money
like they always did.
I was so mad I didn’t know what to do
with myself that afternoon. I couldn’t watch
TV. It was all soap operas anyway, and they
seemed dumber than ever. The library didn’t
appeal to me either. It’s not air-conditioned,
and the day was hot and muggy.
F inally I went to the park and threw
stones at the swans in the lake. I was
careful not to hit them, but they made good
targets because they were so fat and white.
Then after a while the sun got lower. I kind
of cooled off and came to my senses. They
were just big, dumb, beautiful birds and not
my enemies. I threw them some crumbs
from my sandwich and went home.
“Daddy,” I asked that night, “how come
you and Mom never cash checks
downstairs in the Silver Dollar?”
“Because,” he said, “we have an account
at the bank, where they cash our checks
free.”
“Well, why doesn’t everybody do that?” I
wanted to know.
“Because some people want all their
money right away,” he said. “The bank insists
that you leave them a minimum balance.”
“How much?” I asked him.
“Only five dollars.”
“But that five dollars still belongs to you
after you leave it there?”
“Sure,” he says. “And if it’s in a savings
account, it earns interest.”
“So why can’t people see they lose money
when they pay to have their checks cashed?”
14
“A lot of our people,” Mom said, “are scared
of banks, period. Some of them remember the
Depression,8 when all the banks closed and
the people couldn’t get their money out. And
others think banks are only for white people.
They think they’ll be insulted, or maybe even
arrested, if they go in there.”
Wow. The more I learned, the more
pitiful it was. “Are there any black people
working at our bank?”
“There didn’t used to be,” Mom said,
“but now they have Mr. Lovejoy and Mrs.
Adams. You know Mrs. Adams, she’s nice.
She has a daughter your age.”
“Hmmm,” I said, and shut up before my
folks started to wonder why I was asking
all those questions.
The next morning, when the Silver Dollar
opened, I was right there. I hung around
near the door, pretending to read a copy of
Jet magazine.
“Psst,” I said to each person who came in.
“I know where you can cash checks free.”
It wasn’t easy convincing them. A man
blinked his red eyes at me like he didn’t
believe he had heard right. A carpenter
with tools hanging all around his belt said
he was on his lunch hour and didn’t have
time. And a big fat lady with two shopping
bags pushed past me and almost knocked
me down, she was in such a hurry to give
Mr. Silver and Mr. Dollar her money.
B ut finally I had a little group who were
interested. It wasn’t much. Just three people.
Two men—one young, one old—and the
little old lady who’d asked me to read her
the letter from California. Seemed the
8. The Depression, or Great Depression, was a period of high
unemployment from 1929 through the 1930s.
grandson had made his
payday and sent her a
money order.
“How far is this place?”
asked the young man.
“Not far. Just six blocks,”
I told him.
“Aw shoot. I ain’t
walking all that way just to
save fifty cents.”
Analyzing the Photo In what way do you
So then I only had two. I think this bank teller might be helping the read aloud. “July 9, 1972.
was careful not to tell them man in the picture?
where we were going. When
we finally got to the Establishment Trust
National Bank, I said, “This is the place.”
“I ain’t goin’ in there,” said the old man.
“No sir. Not me. You ain’t gettin’ me in
there.” And he walked away quickly, going
back in the direction where we had come.
To tell the truth, the bank did look kind
of scary. It was a big building with tall
white marble pillars. A lot of Brink’s
armored trucks and Cadillacs were parked
out front. Uniformed guards walked back
and forth inside with guns. It might as well
have a “Colored Keep Out” sign.
Whereas the Silver Dollar is small and
dark and funky and dirty. It has trash on
the floors and tape across the broken
windows.
I looked at the little old lady. She smiled
back bravely. “Well, we’ve come this far,
son,” she said. “Let’s not turn back now.”
So I took her inside. Fortunately Mrs.
Adams’s window was near the front.
“Hi, James,” she said.
“I’ve brought you a customer,” I told her.
Mrs. Adams took the old lady to a desk
to fill out some forms. They were gone a
long time, but finally they came back.
15
“Now, when you have
more business with the
bank, Mrs. Franklin, just
bring it to me,” Mrs. Adams
said.
“I’ll do that,” the old lady
said. She held out her shiny
new bankbook. “Son, do me
a favor and read that to me.”
“Mrs. Minnie Franklin,” I
Thirty-seven dollars.”
“That sounds real nice,”
Mrs. Franklin said. “I guess now I have a
bankbook, I’ll have to get me some glasses.”
Mrs. Adams winked at me over the old
lady’s head, and I winked back.
“Do you want me to walk you home?” I
asked Mrs. Franklin.
“No thank you, son,” she said. “I can
cross streets by myself all right. I know red
from green.”
And then she winked at both of us, letting
us know she knew what was happening.
“Son,” she went on, “don’t ever be afraid
to try a thing just because you’ve never
done it before. I took a bus up here from
Alabama by myself forty-four years ago. I
ain’t thought once about going back. But
I’ve stayed too long in one neighborhood
since I’ve been in this city. Now I think I’ll
go out and take a look at this part of town.”
Then she was gone. But she had really
started me thinking. If an old lady like that
wasn’t afraid to go in a bank and open an
account for the first time in her life, why
should I be afraid to go up to City Hall and
apply for a license?
Wonder how much they charge you to be
a scribe? ❍
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
the beach, when, making another terrific leap, he bounded out into
deep water, and dove beneath the surface.
While submerged, Waring heard distinctly the dull report of the rifles,
and the skipping of the bullets, as they glanced over the water. Being
a skilful swimmer, he turned upon his back, and as he was borne
slowly upward, he allowed only his mouth and nose to be exposed,
when, inhaling a sufficient quantity of air, he again dove, and
repeated precisely the same manœuver that we have described
before.
Finally, believing he was again safe, he allowed his head and
shoulders to come to view, and looked back toward the island. To his
dismay, an Indian canoe was within a dozen feet of him. Its
occupants descried him at the same moment that he discovered
them, and now commenced a most exciting race of life and death.
One minute would have decided the contest in the middle of the
river, but fortunately, indeed, Waring's efforts had brought him within
a few rods of the shore. Fearful of being fired upon, he repeated his
stratagem of diving, and when he came to the surface, struggled
frantically to gain the shore, with the canoe darting forward like a
shadow. As soon as he could gain a foothold, he tore through the
foaming water, and dashed into the woods, while the canoe was
scarcely twice its length behind him.
It was only by the most skilful running, dodging, and doubling, that
Waring succeeded in freeing himself from his agile pursuers. He had
gone fully half a mile in the forest before this was accomplished, but
he found himself, at length, entirely alone, and panting and
exhausted, he seated himself upon the ground, to decide upon the
next course to pursue.
He could not think of leaving the island, when he had every reason
to believe that all he held dear on earth was upon it. Virginia was a
captive in the hands of the merciless Shawanoes, and even if he
could afford her no assistance, he could certainly learn something of
her fate, and form some plan for her rescue.
With this determination he arose, and retraced his steps. It is hardly
necessary to say that he made his way as silently, stealthily and
cautiously as it was his ability to do; starting at every rustling wind, or
falling leaf. Upon reaching the shore of the river, he found that he
was above the island, and again wading it, swam out toward it.
Waring wished, if possible, to recover his rifle, and gain a glimpse of
the band of Indians who had slain Lander, and who held his daughter
captive. Steadying himself, he allowed the current to carry him
downward, and when several rods distant, checked his motion, and
took a survey of the flat-boat and the surroundings.
He saw his rifle lying on the beach, its ornamented stock and barrel
shining in the moonlight. After carefully surveying every portion of
the island, that came under his observation, he detected no sign of
danger, and was about to let himself float forward again, when the
lifted head of the Shawanoe rose above the gunwale, and remained
in view for fully a minute.
As the moon shone fully upon the savage, Waring distinguished the
features plainly. He concluded at once that there was several others
upon the flat-boat, and all waiting for his return. The savage gazed
carefully about him, and descrying nothing, his head disappeared
from view.
"Ah, my fine fellow," thought Waring, as he noiselessly swam toward
the Ohio shore, "you may watch there quite a while, before you catch
me in any of your traps. You have had enough blood for to-night."
He now floated slowly down the river, keeping about midway
between the island and the Ohio bank, and, so far as possible,
examined the former, as he passed the bank. Reaching its extremity,
he passed around it, and commenced ascending the opposite side,
so as to complete his reconnoisance.
This was an extremely difficult task, and none but the most powerful
swimmer could have accomplished it. But Waring succeeded, and
finally "anchored" for a few moments abreast of the flat-boat, while
he took another observation of it. He saw nothing more of the
Indians, although he firmly believed they were still upon it.
He was convinced that the major portion of the Shawanoes were still
upon the island, and after floating somewhat lower, he landed at
precisely the same spot where he came so nigh being captured
before. Feeling confident that he had not been seen, he
unhesitatingly came ashore, and passed beneath the shadow of the
trees.
Upon coming from the water, his limbs were so heavy, and he felt so
exhausted, that he threw himself down upon the ground, to gain a
few moments rest. Despite the exciting scenes through which he had
just participated, and the terrible ordeal through which he had just
passed, he fell asleep almost immediately.
It was in the midst of a fearful dream of tomahawks, scalping-knives,
Indians and murders, that he was awakened by a grasp upon his
arm. Believing resistance to be useless, he lay motionless, waiting
for the command of his captors.
"If you've no objection, I should like to inquire whether you are not
about through with your nap?" inquired the well-known voice of
Hezekiah Smith.

CHAPTER VIII.
STILL ON THE ISLAND.
The dull, grey light that now began to overspread the sky, gave token
of the coming day, and the three whites withdrew further into the
grove for consultation.
"This is a bad business," remarked Waring, after he had exchanged
experiences with his friends. "The infernal devils have outwitted us at
last. God knows what will become of Virginia. Her poor father is
already dead!"
"Yes, we have seen him," said Hezekiah, with a shudder at the
remembrance of the awful scene. "He isn't a dozen rods away from
us."
"Let us give him a decent burial," added Waring. "We can find some
means to scoop out a grave for him."
The three moved away to the clearing, but, upon reaching it, nothing
of the body was to be seen. The Shawanoes had carried it from the
island.
"Perhaps it is as well," said Waring. "He is beyond all pain and
suffering, and the disposal of his body can make no difference to
him, although I would that we could have performed the last sad rites
for him."
"Wall," said Hezekiah, clamping his rifle down upon the ground, as
he came to a halt, and folding his arm over it, "here we is, and the
question afore this assembly is how we're going to get away. What
do you propose to do, my dear Patrick?"
"I advise that we ate breakfast."
"The only objection to that," replied Waring, "is that we have none to
eat; but, badinage aside, we must first go over this island again, and
learn whether there are any of the demons left. If not, we must get
on their track, for, as true as the heaven is above me, I never go to
that settlement without Virginia."
"I am certain—that is, as certain as I can be—that the last of the
Indians left the island a half hour ago. We seen their canoes going
off."
At the extremity of the island the three separated, as had been
proposed, and commenced making their way back again.
In doing this, it was necessary to avoid exposing themselves to any
who might be on either shore of the mainland, and, from the great
caution that was necessary, the work was an extremely difficult and
tedious one.
It was not until full two hours had elapsed that the three whites met
on the spot where Virginia Lander had been taken prisoner.
Their search, or examination, as it might be termed, proved that the
savages had, indeed, left the island, not a sign of one having been
discovered. They had probably done this under the belief that the
whites had succeeded in reaching the mainland, so that the latter
were convinced that, if they kept themselves concealed through the
day they would not be disturbed, and could easily get away when
night came again. The ashes of their camp-fire had been discovered,
and blood upon the leaves, and other evidences of their recent visit.
"But, if you have no objection to tell, where's your rifle?" asked
Hezekiah, who had noticed that Waring was unprovided with that
weapon.
The latter looked through the trees.
"Yonder it lies this very minute. Strange, that they did not steal that
also. I will go and recover it."
He paused, ere he had passed out from among the trees, for the
very fact that the rifle lay there undisturbed, sent a suspicious pang
through him. It seemed improbable that such an occurrence could be
mere accident. A true Indian rarely, if ever, committed such an
oversight. The rifle was magnificently mounted, and would have
been a prize to any one.
There was another matter which, in Waring's state of mind, excited
suspicion and apprehension. He believed the gun did not lie on the
precise spot where he had thrown it. He recollected that he had flung
it with such force that it must have gone very nearly to the edge of
the beach, whereas it now lay either on the very spot that he had
passed over, or a few feet upon the opposite side.
This circumstance, which, at any other time, would have attracted no
attention at all, caused Waring great uneasiness. He felt that it was
by no means certain that everything was right upon the island, even
though it had been proven that their enemies had just left it. It looked
to him as though a trap had been laid to ensnare him, and this rifle of
his, lying but a few yards distant, was the bait.
Feeling pretty well convinced that there was some design in the
presence of this rifle, he set himself to work to discover the precise
means by which it was intended to entrap him. There being no
Indians on the island, of course he ran no risk of being taken
prisoner, in case he ventured out to recover the weapon. The
distance from this point to either shore was so slight that it would
have been the easiest matter in the world for a concealed savage to
pick him off. The gun could not be recovered without exposing
himself to this peril.
Ah! the flat-boat! Waring's heart leapt at the thought. Strange that it
had not occurred to him before. There it lay, just as it had during the
night, save, perhaps, that it had sunk a few inches lower. It was upon
that he had seen the heads of several Indians, and there, in all
probability they still lay in wait, watching for his reappearance.
What reason had these Shawanoes to suppose that Waring could
again return to the island. The best of reasons. He had shown to
them a desire to do so, and as long as he believed that Virginia
Lander was there, the savages well knew he would linger in the
vicinity. Once upon the island, he would not fail to recover his gun,
provided he believed he incurred no additional danger in doing so.
That, then, he concluded, was the solution of the question. Taking
other matters into consideration, Waring came to the conclusion that
it was their desire to take him prisoner instead of shooting him,
deeming, most probably, the latter death far too comfortable a mode
for him to use in getting out of the world. He knew enough of the
blood-thirsty savages to understand what a terrible fate would be his,
in case he fell into their hands. They would take a fearful vengeance
for the Shawanoe he had killed in self-defence. Well, indeed, had it
been for the feeble Mr. Lander that he was so enfeebled and
weakened. It brought him a speedy death, instead of a lingering
torture.
These reflections, which we have recorded at some length, occupied
Waring but a few seconds. He saw everything with a hunter's eye,
and, with a shake of his head, stepped back a pace or two, and
resumed his position beside the Irishman and Hezekiah.
"What's the matter?" asked the latter.
"It won't do—it won't do."
"What won't do? Do you mean to go out there and pick your rifle?"
"Yes, that is what I mean."
"What is to hinder?"
"I don't like the looks of that flat-boat."
"Whew!" blew Hezekiah, surveying the object in question as though
he had never seen it. "If you've no objection, might I inquire why you
don't like it?"
"I am afraid there are Indians concealed upon it. I saw them there
last night."
And now arose a dispute in which all three of the whites engaged.
Waring, who most certainly was the best qualified to judge,
expressed it as his firm conviction that a half dozen Shawanoes, at
least, were at that moment glaring out from the flat-boat, and waiting
for their reappearance. Hezekiah dissented, and persistently
maintained that there was but one savage upon the craft, and that he
lay in the cabin sound asleep! He could give no satisfactory reason
to the others for this belief, but he appeared sincerely to believe it
himself. Pat Mulroony, on the contrary, was ready to swear that there
wasn't a redskin on the island, flat-boat, either bank, or within five
miles of them!
"Be jabers! I'll soon find out."
"How?"
"I am going on the owld flat-boat itself."
Pat's companions begged, entreated, and implored, but all to no
purpose. He had resolved to prove what he had argued, and he now
prepared to do it.

CHAPTER IX.
A FEARFUL ADVENTURE.
It is not to be supposed that Pat Mulroony was entirely free from fear,
when he resolved upon the venture of which we have spoken. The
strenuous assertions of Waring, the equally positive belief of
Hezekiah, and their united protestations convinced him that they
were at least sincere and honest in their efforts to preserve him from
harm. Nevertheless, like a genuine Irishman, he sturdily combated
them, determined to demonstrate his sincerity by actual experiment.
It is a fact that a man may commence with the assertion of an
absolute falsehood, and conscious, at the beginning, that he is
defending such, argues himself in time into the belief that it is
genuine truth.
Pat Mulroony had walked two-thirds of the distance to the hulk, and
was within a few feet of the water, when he paused. He had
discovered a fearful and startling thing!
That which arrested the brave-hearted Irishman, was the sight of a
human eye. At a small augur-like orifice at the mouth of the boat he
suddenly distinguished the glowing eye-ball of a Shawanoe Indian! It
was glaring like a demon's, and a cannon-ball would not have
stopped him sooner.
Waring and Hezekiah, noticing his hesitation, called out in a whisper
for him to return. This very call was the means of sending him
forward again. He was resolved that they should never laugh at this
adventure, and with rather a quickened step, he strode forward, and
catching the gunwale by one hand, he carried himself with one
bound over upon the deck.
He had left his rifle behind, and was armed only with his knife. His
two friends breathlessly watched him and listened. They saw his
head and broad shoulders gradually lower as he walked undauntedly
toward the stern of the boat, until the bow hid them from sight, and
then all was still.
The silence lasted for perhaps a full minute, and then was broken by
a yell as startling and terrific as an explosion of thunder in the clear
summer sky. Instantly a half dozen tufted heads was seen dodging
hither and thither over the deck, all centering around one burly, bare-
headed figure that was struggling like a lion amid a score of enemies
which had dogged him nigh to death.
While Waring and Hezekiah gazed transfixed with horror, a powerful-
limbed Indian shot up like a rocket in mid-air, and came down in the
river. Ere he had struck, another went spinning after him, falling flat
on his face in the water, with a concussion that cracked like a pistol.
While they were swimming with all speed back to the boat, a heavy
fall was heard, a faint shuffling noise, and then all was still.
As the foremost Indian was in the act of pulling himself over the
gunwale of the flat-boat he let go with a horrid whoop, and fell back
dead, killed by the bullet from Waring's rifle. The other attempted to
swim behind the stern, but Hezekiah shot him through the brain ere it
could be accomplished.
There could be but one cause for the sudden cessation of the tumult
upon the flat-boat. Pat had either been overcome or slain. The
silence that succeeded the fearful yell and the struggle was equally
painful and impressive to his two friends. They waited long and
impatiently for it to be broken.
"It's all up with him!" whispered Waring, as he primed his rifle. "I pity
him, but our hands are clear of his blood."
"Too bad, too bad," muttered Hezekiah, who had just loaded his rifle,
"he was a good fellow, my dear Patrick was indeed. I am sorry that
he has come to this bad end!"
"We must look out for ourselves now. The best thing we can do is to
get off this infernal island, which has been the scene of such
misfortune to us. I am afraid that if we remain much longer, you will
take it into your head to perform some such a feat, and I shall be left
alone."
"No, indeed, I won't, there's no danger of that," added Hezekiah, so
eagerly and earnestly that it brought a smile to the face of Waring.
"It is yet early in the forenoon, and I suppose we shall be compelled
to remain here until night."
"Of course we shall! It won't do to start out in the river in open
daylight. We'd be killed before we had gone a dozen inches."
"Hello! did you hear that?" exclaimed Waring.
Several whoops were heard upon the Kentucky shore, apparently in
answer to these which had been uttered some minutes before by the
captors of Pat Mulroony. Peering through the trees, Waring added:
"There is a party of the thieves, coming off from the mainland in a
canoe. Get ready for hot work."
"Drat the things—can't we hide?" anxiously asked Hezekiah, looking
around him for any place that might offer.
"No; we must stand our ground; they have just started."
The canoe which was approaching was a large Indian one, in which
were seated three or four Shawanoes, all busily plying their paddles.
They headed straight for the upper end of the island, while the
whites stood each behind a tree, with cocked rifles, waiting until they
were compelled to fire.
Just as the canoe seemed about to touch, it sheered off, and ran
alongside of the flat-boat, where it lay against and parallel to it. The
heads of four savages immediately appeared above, as though they
were staggering under the weight of some heavy load. The next
second, Pat Mulroony, bound hand and foot, was handed over, and
deposited in the bottom of the canoe. His friends could hear him
muttering dire threats of vengeance, and daring his captors to loose
him for a moment, all of which it is needless to say attracted no
notice whatever.
The captive disposed of, the Shawanoes followed, sinking the canoe
to its very gunwales. They paddled away toward the shore, and in a
few moments disappeared from view.
"Now, at least," said Waring, "the island and boat are free of the
imps, and we can have a breathing spell. Let us go upon the old
hulk."
"What in the world do you want to do that for?"
"It is the safest place."
"If you've no objection, I should like to inquire how it can be the
safest place?"
"In the first place there is no one upon it, and in the second place, as
its sides are bullet-proof, we can use it as a fort, and keep off any
number of foes until dark, when we can get off ourselves."
"Let's go upon it, then, before they come back."
It was with some misgiving, slight enough, but still sufficient to
occasion uneasiness, that Waring once more approached the flat-
boat. When he reached the deck, he experienced an irresistible
desire to explore every portion of it, not that he suspected the
presence of any Indian, but that he could not feel positively assured
until he had done so. The result was that it was found to be entirely
empty of any persons except themselves. The cabin was half full of
water, and it was here that the Shawanoes must have concealed
themselves while their victim was approaching.

CHAPTER X.
COMPANIONS IN CAPTIVITY.
With his usual recklessness, Pat Mulroony, after arriving upon the
hulk of the flat-boat, descended into the cabin. He had just reached
the base, when he espied several Indians, and he immediately
retreated to the deck again.
Knowing that he was "in for it," he turned, and catching the foremost
Indian in his arms, threw him bodily into the water. The second he
served in the same manner, when he found the redskins were
coming up rather too fast for convenience. However, he gave the
third a tremendous blow in the face, and commenced laying about
him in regular Donnybrook style, when his foot slipped, and ere he
could rise he was seized and bound.
"Trate me gintlemanly," said he, "for yese can't deny but what I
sarved yese in the same manner."
The Indians could but respect the bravery he had shown, and they
offered him no violence. He was then passed over the side into the
canoe, and transported to the shore. Shortly after, his captors joined
the main body, where he met Virginia Lander, in the same helpless
situation as himself.
The Shawanoes were gathered in an irregular circle around the fire,
some smoking, others chatting, and others apparently asleep.
The savages had thrown a brilliant crimson shawl over her
shoulders, and her hair being as jetty black as theirs, and her head
bowed, he had taken her for one of their number when he first
looked upon them. Virginia sat with her head bowed, for her heart
was stricken with grief. The picture of her cherished father springing
up with his wild look, and running through the trees, pursued by his
merciless enemies, was ever before her. She could not drive it from
her, and shudder after shudder ran through her frame, and the tears
trickled thick and fast between her fingers.
How changed since yesterday! Suffering, misfortune, and death, had
come upon them—had swept her only relative upon earth from her,
and separated her from him who was dearer than any relative could
be! All alone—alone!
No, she was not all alone! There was One who was ever nigh her—
who never lost sight of his stricken ones, and who only could comfort
her in this dark hour which had come upon her. To Him she turned,
as the human heart will turn, when bleeding and lacerated, and
refusing to be comforted by any sympathy the world can give.
But it was hard to be separated from all kindred. The thought was
loathsome and full of abhorrence that she, an unprotected woman,
was alone among a party of blood-thirsty savages. She hardly dare
look upon them, and yet looking through her tears she ventured to
steal a glance at them. How her heart leaped, as her gaze rested
upon the broad, jovial face of Pat Mulroony, his pitying blue eyes
fixed upon herself. Removing her hands, she looked up, and with a
mournful smile returned his nod of recognition. Comprehending the
question her very looks formed, the quick-witted Irishman replied:
"Yes, I'm the only one beside yerself that the haythen have, and they
wouldn't have got me if I hadn't struck at 'em too hard, and missed
'em. Ye jist keep quiet, my jewel, and ye'll hear of Pat Mulroony
agin."
A sort of consultation was now held among the Shawanoes, relating
not to the prisoners, but to those who were not, the debate being as
to what means should be employed to capture them also. After a
protracted discussion it was decided that the whole party, with the
exception of enough to guard the prisoners, should cross over to the
island and boldly attack them.
This decided upon, the preparations were instantly completed, and
the warriors moved down to the bank, leaving Virginia and Pat to the
guardianship of two of their number. At the very moment of reaching
the river they descried the two whites as they climbed upon the flat-
boat.
This caused a halt and a further debate. Large as was the Indian
party, a majority were opposed to assaulting the whites in their
stronghold. They had already learned enough of their mettle to
understand that this would be a most dangerous undertaking upon
their part, and many more were convinced that there was no hope at
all of success, even with the loss of two-thirds of their number.
It was actually decided to give up the hope of securing the two
remaining whites by this means. The sagacious Indians suspecting
the relation which existed between one of them and one of the
captives already in their possession, believed a much better
opportunity would be offered. Love will play the wild with any man,
and lead him to attempt deeds which in his cooler moments he
would pronounce madness. So they were content to bide their time.

CHAPTER XI.
As the Shawanoes had invariably come from and returned to the
Kentucky side of the river, Waring concluded that the entire war party
was upon that shore, and it was therefore determined in leaving the
island that they should cross over to the same bank.
"It will bother us somewhat to manage our rifles," said he, "and as
we may need them the instant we touch land, we must keep them
and our ammunition out of the water."
"Rip off a piece of this old hulk, and float them over on that."
"A good idea."
The suggestion of Hezekiah was adopted at once. A portion of the
cabin was loosened and placed in the water, and upon it was laid
their two rifles and powder horns. The raft thus formed was so
buoyant as to afford them material assistance in swimming.
The night was of inky darkness; the most favorable that the two
adventurers could have wished. Yet, fearing that the savages might
suspect some such stratagem as this, they allowed themselves to
drift downward with the raft until they had passed the lowermost
portion of the island, when they shoved out into deep water, and
commenced working their way cautiously over toward the Dark and
Bloody Ground.
"Be careful and keep your limbs under water," admonished Waring;
"a single splash may betray us."
"Yes, I understand," whispered Hezekiah, kicking around like a
frantic frog. "It appears to me that we're going down stream faster
than across it."
Such was the case, as Waring found that his efforts alone tended to
carry them across, Hezekiah's being as much in one direction as
another, amounted to nothing.
"Drat it," muttered the latter, "it's something like that canoe I got into
the other night. Never mind, we'll come out somewhere."
A few minutes later the two touched bottom, and pushing their craft
carefully before them, came out in the woods, where the blackness
was of Egyptian intensity. Hezekiah bumped his head several limes
before he dare rise to a perfectly upright position, and then he could
only discern the shadowy form of his companion beside him.
"Whatever happens, or whatever you see," whispered Waring, "don't
speak or start."
"I know better than to do that—drat that limb! it has nearly sawed my
neck off!"
Knowing that the current must have carried them a considerable
distance down the river, Waring used the bank as his guide, and
ascended a considerable distance before he began to look about
him for the savages. After having progressed somewhat over a
quarter of a mile, he caught the glimmer of a light through the trees,
and touched Hezekiah upon the arm, as a caution for him to be on
his guard.
Making their way carefully through the tangled undergrowth, through
hollows and over fallen trees, across brooks and miry patches of
earth, they at length stood within a hundred yards of the Shawanoe
camp-fire.
Waring's heart sank within him, for he understood at once that the
Shawanoe war party had divided, and that neither of the captives
was before him. When had the separation taken place? What
direction had the other taken? How could its trail be gained?
These were questions which instantly presented themselves to the
young adventurer's mind, and which for a long time he was unable to
answer. Amid the profound darkness which held reign, it was very
obvious that nothing could be done. Even the full, bright moon was
unable to penetrate with its light the solemn labyrinths of the Dark
and Bloody Ground. Nothing could be done until morning.
As neither Waring nor Hezekiah had enjoyed any sleep for many
hours they both felt fatigued, despite the exciting situation in which
they were placed. Withdrawing a considerable distance further into
the forest, they both lay down beside an uprooted tree, and were
almost immediately locked in slumber.
The sleep of Waring was deep and dreamless. It was not until the
sun had been up several hours that he opened his eyes. As soon as
he recovered from his temporary bewilderment he arose, chagrined
that he had lost so much valuable time. To his surprise, upon looking
around, nothing was seen of Hezekiah Smith. Thinking, however, he
could not be far away, Waring seated himself upon the tree and
waited for his return.
An hour passed away, and still no sign of his missing companion.
The young man had whistled, and gave utterance to all the signals at
his command, but had elicited no response. He was now alarmed,
and greatly vexed; alarmed at the singular disappearance of his
friend, and vexed that now, when every minute was of the utmost
value to him, he was thus compelled to remain, and accomplish
nothing. At length his patience became insupportable.
"There is no use of remaining behind," he muttered. "The
Shawanoes have gone, and every minute places them further from
me. I will follow them alone, relying upon my own arm and the
kindness of Heaven for success."
Throwing his rifle over his shoulder, he moved resolutely off,
resolved never to turn his back upon his enemies until he had
learned something of the fair captive they held. It was a desperate
proceeding, indeed, for a single man thus to pit himself against a
whole party of redskins, but our hero felt no hesitation in doing it.
It was now, too, that Waring began to experience the pangs of
hunger. He had fasted a long time, and was so famished that he
determined to secure some food at all hazards. At the period of
which we write, game was very abundant in this portion of the West,
and the decision had scarcely entered his mind when several wild
turkeys, their wings outspread and their feet scarcely touching the
earth, sped along within a stone's throw of him. As quick as thought
the foremost was shot and in his hands.
The instant that Waring had secured his game, he regretted having
discharged his piece, for he felt certain he had exposed himself to
danger. Some of the Indians must certainly be within hearing, and
would be attracted thither by a suspicion of the true state of the case.
To guard against capture Waring made all haste through the woods
in the direction of the camp-fire which had been deserted by the
savages, in the belief that this would be the last place where his
enemies would seek for him. Upon reaching it he was gratified to find
a large quantity of live coals, and, without hesitation, he plucked and
dressed the turkey, and proceeded to cook it.
The bird afforded him a most needed and nourishing meal, besides
furnishing enough for future use; and now that his immediate wants
were attended to, Waring set to work in earnest upon the all
important object that had brought him thither.
In the first place, it was necessary to discover the trails of the two
war parties, and in trying this he failed completely. Although gifted
with more than ordinary intelligence, shrewdness, and cunning, he
had not yet learned enough of the woods to follow the faint footsteps
of the wild Indians through its labyrinths, when the traces left were so
faint that the human eye, unless trained by an experience of years,
could not detect the least signs of the passage of any one.
Had the Shawanoes proceeded with their usual caution, it would
have been absolutely impossible for Waring to have followed them a
hundred yards through the wilderness. But, fully conscious that no
enemy that need cause them the least uneasiness, was in their
vicinity, they straggled forward as carelessly as a party of
schoolboys. This only was the reason why our hero was enabled to
follow them.
Waring, under the belief that they had penetrated further into
Kentucky, for a long time examined the ground only upon that side of
the fire. His efforts meeting with no success, he resorted to the
opposite side, where the trail was discovered at once.
It being impossible to find any further signs of the passage of the
Shawanoes in any other direction, he concluded that both parties
must have gone this way, which, somewhat to his surprise, led
toward the river. Keeping along on the trail, he found, as he had
feared, that they had embarked in their canoes, and gone either up,
down, or across the stream.
"And how am I to tell which way?" he muttered. "I must run the risk of
getting the wrong choice out of these three." Waring, under ordinary
circumstances, would have been discouraged at the formidable
obstacles which now rose before him; but one of his temperament
could never rest while the object of his choice was a captive in the
hands of the savages, and he, therefore, did not once think of turning
back.
"They cannot have gone up the river," he reflected, "because they
have come from that direction. And yet what reason is that why they
should not have done so? Yet it strikes me that they have not taken
that course. They could have gone much more rapidly overland. If
their destination is in Kentucky, it surely is not on the banks of the
Ohio; it must be a good distance back from the river, so that they
would only have lengthened their journey by taking to the water.
From all that I have ever heard or read of the Shawanoes Indians—
to whom this war party surely belongs—I have been led to suppose
that although they range at will on both sides of the river, still their
towns and villages, and their home, in fact, is in southern Ohio. And
what more natural, now that they have secured their prisoner, than
that they should return to their home as rapidly as possible? Such, it
seems reasonable to believe, is the true state of the case, and I must
cross the river again."
Waring was on the point of venturing into the river, when his
attention was arrested by a loud splash in the direction of the flat-
boat, and to his surprise he descried several Indians upon it. Finding
that he was not observed, he drew back and watched their actions.
A glance convinced him that they belonged to the same war party of
Shawanoes, and were searching the craft for plunder. They had
thrown over a sort of bench, which was fastened, bottom upward, to
the stern of a canoe. They were some half dozen savages, who, a
moment later, shoved off and paddled down stream.
Their light craft shot rapidly forward, inclining neither to one shore
nor the other. From this, Waring's belief that the main body had
crossed the river was changed into the conviction that they had all
gone down the stream in their canoes; and that all that remained for
him to do was to keep these redskins in sight.
This was a difficult task, indeed. Under the skilful guidance of the
sinewy Indian, their canoe skimmed like a swallow over the water,
and it required the most strenuous efforts of Waring to keep it in
sight. Fortunately, indeed, the wood, a few yards from the shore, was
open, and his footsteps were not much impeded.
Hurrying thus forward, now and then darting to the river bank, he
kept up the pursuit for five or six miles, the canoe all the time gaining
upon him, until finally he lost sight of it behind a bend in the river.
Waring was panting and perspiring, and in no pleasant mood, that,
after all his efforts, he was compelled to fall behind, and he relaxed
into a sullen walk.
"It seems as though everything is conspiring against me," he
muttered. "I have done everything in my power, and here I am at
last, left entirely alone, without knowing whither a single one of my
friends has gone. It matters little what becomes of me. A curse upon
the infernal Indians that have persecuted me thus!"
He walked moodily forward for an hour or so, by which time he had
passed the bend in the river, around which the canoe had
disappeared. The river at this point took a due southwest direction,
running so nearly straight that a view of several miles was afforded.
Nothing of the canoe, however, had been seen. It had gone, Waring
knew not where.
Wearied and dispirited, he threw himself upon the ground, and
endeavored to sleep. But he was too excited and nervous to rest;
and devouring what he could of the remaining portion of the turkey,
he threw the rest from him, and leaned his head on his hand to
reflect upon the best course for him to pursue.
He had lost all traces of the Indians and their captives. How he
should ever meet Virginia again it was impossible for him to imagine.
In the impenetrable depths of the great wilderness which surrounded
him, where the merciless red men wandered for miles, how could he,
a single, unaided white man, follow them? How——?
The explosion of a rifle broke the stillness of the woods, and
springing to his feet, Waring hurried madly forward, scarcely
conscious of what he was doing. After running a short distance he
paused, and parting the bushes, gazed upon a scene that thrilled his
very being with the wildest of thoughts.

CHAPTER XII.
AN EXPLOIT OF HEZEKIAH SMITH'S.
Hezekiah Smith awoke two full hours before Waring. Looking toward
him, and noticing that he was still slumbering, he concluded not to
disturb him, as he well knew how exhausted his frame must be.
Feeling perfectly wakeful himself, he arose to his feet and looked
around him. The first sensation experienced by the New Englander
was that of hunger—a craving for food immediately. The sun had just
risen, and although he was well aware of the abundance of game in
the wood, he dare not fire his gun on account of the proximity of his
enemies.
"I guess I'll take a tramp down the river," he concluded, "and when I
get out of their hearing I'll knock something over, and eat enough to
last me a week."
He looked down upon the tranquil face of Waring.
"He appears to sleep very sound, and I guess it's hardly worth while
to disturb him. He'll be there when I come back, and all the better for
the extra rest he has received."
With this philosophical conclusion, Hezekiah wandered off in the
woods. It was his intention to take a southerly direction, penetrating
further into Kentucky, and such was his course at first. But,
unconsciously to himself, he deviated to the right, parallel with the
Ohio.
With no sensation, but that of hunger, with the resolve to attend to
that immediately, and at all hazards, Hezekiah hurried forward
without once noticing the course he was pursuing, or reflecting that it
was more than probable he would be entirely lost in the trackless
wilderness.