It was an hour of strategy and cannonade, an hour which Fort Brown tells of to this day; and the tepee lived through it all. For it stood upon fifteen slender poles, not speedily to be chopped down by shooting lead from afar. When low bullets drilled the canvas, the chief suggested to Augustus that Ute Jack had climbed up; and if the bullets flew high, then Ute Jack was doubtless in a hole. Nor did Augustus contrive to drop a shell from the howitzer upon Ute Jack and explode him--a shrewd and deadly conception; the shells went beyond, except one, that ripped through the canvas, somewhat near the ground; and Augustus, dripping, turned at length, and saying "It won't go down," stood vacantly wiping his white face. Then the two chiefs got his leave to stretch a rope between their horses and ride hard against the tepee. It was military neither in essence nor to see, but it prevailed. The tepee sank, a huge umbrella wreck along the earth, and there lay Ute Jack across the fire's slight hollow, his knee-cap gone with the howitzer shell. But no blood had flown from that, because he was already then dead some time. One single other shot had struck him--one through his own heart, that had singed the flesh. "You see, Mr. Albumblatt," said Duane, in the whole crowd's hearing, "he killed himself directly after killing Casey. But if your manoeuvres with his corpse have taught you anything you did not know before, we shall all be gainers." "Captain," said Mrs. Starr, on a later day, "you and Ute Jack have ended our fun. Since the Court of Inquiry let Mr. Albumblatt off, he has not said Germany once--and that's three months to-morrow." WANTED: A GIANT. "The giant I want to look at," Said Bobbie, "must be so tall It'll take me a week and two other days, To look at him all!" THE REMARKABLE ADVENTURES OF SANDBOYS. BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. AN INDIAN EXPERIENCE. Sandboys, in his stories of adventure told to Bob and Jack, had so frequently in past years alluded to Indians that it suddenly occurred to Bob to find out if possible just how far Sandboys's experiences with the original owners of the soil had gone. There had been Indians in this section of New Hampshire. The boys knew that well, for the names of many of the hills and rivers attested the fact--Pemigewasset, Ammonoosuc, Moosilauke--all these names were decisive evidence that the red men had once inhabited the region, and dominated it sufficiently to leave their names at least forever impressed upon it. Furthermore, the Great Stone Face that looked stolidly out over the placid surface of the little lake, less than a mile from the hotel, had connected with it many an Indian legend which the boys had from time to time picked up in the course of their stay.