[Illustration: FRANK READE WEEKLY MAGAZINE Containing Stories of Adventures on Land, Sea & in the Air] _Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Application made for Second-Class Entry at N. Y. Post-Office._ No. 16. NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 13, 1903. Price 5 Cents. [Illustration: FRANK READE, JR., AND HIS ENGINE OF THE CLOUDS; OR, CHASED AROUND THE WORLD IN THE SKY. _By “NONAME.”_] “Climb up that ladder to the airship!” exclaimed the detective. “Very well,” said Murdock, and up he went. Frank and Reynard followed him, and the ship sped on. Pomp received the prisoner. “Wha’ yo’ gwine ter do wif him?” he asked Frank. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ FRANK READE WEEKLY MAGAZINE. CONTAINING STORIES OF ADVENTURES ON LAND, SEA AND IN THE AIR. _Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Application made for Second Class entry at the New York, N. Y. Post Office._ _Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1903, in the office of the Librarian of Congress._ _Washington. D. C., by Frank Tousey. 24 Union Square, New York._ No. 16. NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 13, 1903. Price 5 Cents. Frank Reade, Jr., and His Engine of the Clouds; OR, Chased Around the World in the Sky. By “NONAME.” CONTENTS CHAPTER I. SHOT FOR MONEY. CHAPTER II. THE ENGINE OF THE CLOUDS. CHAPTER III. A STOWAWAY. CHAPTER IV. A LIGHT FROM THE SKY. CHAPTER V. FOUND AND LOST. CHAPTER VI. FOILED AGAIN. CHAPTER VII. SAVED FROM DEATH. CHAPTER VIII. BAFFLED AGAIN AND AGAIN. CHAPTER IX. THE OASIS IN THE DESERT. CHAPTER X. BUYING A SHIP’S CREW. CHAPTER XI. IN A TIGER’S JAWS. CHAPTER XII. LOSS OF A WHEEL. CHAPTER XIII. A BOMBSHELL. CHAPTER XIV. CONCLUSION. CHAPTER I. SHOT FOR MONEY. It was a bitterly cold night in March. The bleak, gloomy streets of Chicago were almost deserted. A poor little boy in rags was slinking along an aristocratic avenue, shivering with the cold and looking very wretched. His pallid, emaciated face showed poverty and privation, an air of utter misery surrounded him, and he had a mournful look in his sunken eyes. Nobody noticed poor Joe Crosby but the police. He was then only one of the many waifs of the great city.