Until a few moons ago he did not know he was king, this stolid Indian lad, who had been placed in St. Joseph’s School, in Tacoma, when a baby. He did not remember when he came or who brought him there. On the register he is simply “David Seattle.” No hint of royal inheritance appeared to mar his democratic playing and boyish quarreling with school companions. Assertions of kinship would only have served to call down upon him the wrath of his playmates, and who were certain that royalty rode on magnificent chargers and was heralded with blaring trumpets. Charlie David Seattle, only living son of Chief Seattle I., waits for death. He is very old, and his work is done. There came to him not long ago in Snohomish an Indian of another tribe. “I met one of your people in Seattle,” he confided. “His name is like yours--David Seattle.” The old man, strangely excited, came to the city and found David. “Where,” he asked, “were you born? And who was your father?” “I do not know,” said the young Indian. “I was put in St. Joseph’s School when a baby.” And he told the old patriarch all he knew, which was little enough, though it served. “It was I who put you there,” said Charlie David Seattle. “Your father was dead some time before. I took you from your dead mother’s arms. You are the oldest son of the oldest son of Chief Seattle. You are the head of the Snohomish people.” It was thus plain David Seattle learned he was a king. Chief David Seattle has been visiting as many of his people as he has been able to locate. Sometimes he bought railroad tickets. At other times he stole rides on freight trains. And often he walked. He went to Oregon, wandering east of the Cascades, journeying to remote corners of the Olympic Peninsula. Finally he reached the northern end of British Columbia. Wherever he heard of Snohomish Indians there he went. “There are,” he said, “two thousand three hundred of my people left. Of these I have visited two thousand. They were glad to see me.” That is why he appealed to the white man’s newspaper--to help him find the other three hundred. The Nick Carter Stories ISSUED EVERY SATURDAY BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS When it comes to detective stories worth while, the =Nick Carter Stories= contain the only ones that should be considered. They are not overdrawn tales of bloodshed. They rather show the working of one of the finest minds ever conceived by a writer. The name of Nick Carter is familiar all over the world, for the stories of his adventures may be read in twenty languages. No other stories have withstood the severe test of time so well as those contained in the =Nick Carter Stories=. It proves conclusively that they are the best. We give herewith a list of some of the back numbers in print. You can have your news dealer order them, or they will be sent direct by the publishers to any address upon receipt of the price in money or postage stamps.