"Injun Jim h-e-a-p sick," drawled the chieftain, who had satisfied himself that his son and heir was present, the youngster being seated on the floor--"h-e-a-p sick, heap likum biscuit-lah-pooh." Miss Hobart rallied. "Perhaps," she thought, "Charles has pacified the tribe." Then she said, "Oh, Mr. Indian Jim--James, is this your son--your little boy?" "Yesh, h-e-a-p my boy. Injun Jim heap likum biscuit-lah-pooh, h-e-a-p sick." "Are you sick? Poor man! you shall have all the biscuit you want. Here," she said, in a timid voice, as he tucked away a package of food, "is your son--your nice little boy--very nice little boy; and I'm very sorry--" "Yesh, h-e-a-p nice--all same Injun Jim. You like buy um? Two dollar hap, you buy um, h-e-a-p goot!" "Mercy! Oh, oh!" she gasped. "He would sell it! Two dollars and a half--and after such a night! Oh no--no, Jim--James--take him to his yearning mother, please!" As the warrior slowly shuffled away to the gate, leading his son and heir by the hand, the bright little face was turned toward the woman who was standing in the door. "It is a beautiful child," she said. "I wish I had noticed before." A LOYAL TRAITOR. A STORY OF THE WAR OF 1812 BETWEEN AMERICA AND ENGLAND. BY JAMES BARNES. CHAPTER XIX. WRECKED AGAIN. I was almost stunned at the news the carpenter brought, but I knew of the only thing to do, of course. "Rig the pumps and get to work at them," I squeaked faintly, fearing to try to talk loud. "Ay, ay, sir," he answered, "but it will do no good. Lord Harry! she's opened up like a sieve, sir!" Soon we had the water from below pouring on to the deck and running into the scuppers and mingling with that that came on board of us over the rail. But the wind increased in strength until it seemed that it would take the aged masts out of the brig, and it actually threatened to blow the clothes from off our backs. Chips had gone below again to sound the well, and I was holding on to a belaying-pin, and trying not to show how weak and sick I was. I noticed that one of the men, a narrow-headed fellow with an ugly gash of a mouth, was not putting all of the beef he might into his stroke on the pump handles. So I slid over to him and laid hold myself; but the man endeavored to push me to one side. "Hands off, Captain Jonah," he said, "it might stop working! We had plenty of good luck until you came aboard of us. Hands off, I say!" he cried, "or we'll feed you to the whales." I could have struck the man for his insolence, as his words had been heard by two of the men opposite; but I saw that the result might be bad for me, so I replied nothing, but taking a firmer hold of the beam, I wedged him out of his position, ready at any moment to fell him if he attempted violence. I was the stronger, and at last I broke his hold. Where the force I now felt command of came from I cannot tell. The man would have slid over against the bulwarks if I had not caught him by the shoulder.