Old Delancey Gale nodded gloomily. “Yes, my son, it certainly looks bad,” he admitted. “It seems to me that the situation calls for desperate measure. I have set my heart on being the mayor of this town, and I am not going to let that young ruffian beat me if there is any way of preventing it.” For a full hour, father and son sat in the former’s private office, putting their heads together in search of some plan which would bring about the undoing of Carroll. Suddenly the younger Gale had an inspiration. He explained the scheme to his parent, who gave it his enthusiastic approval. They determined to put it into operation immediately. TO BE CONTINUED. * * * * * THE NEWS OF ALL NATIONS. Smallest Knife in the World. What is in all probability the smallest knife in the world has just been completed by M. A. Kaufman, an employee of a jewelry store of Altoona, Pa. It measures five-thirty-seconds of an inch long, has a blade less than two-sixteenths of an inch in length, and weighs a third of a grain. The handle is of solid gold, while the blade and spring are of tempered steel. Recalls Indian Battle Back in Summer of ’65. George L. Wilcox, O. O. Ferbrache, and others are locating the long-forgotten, neglected, and obliterated graves of Captain William D. Fouts and his men, Philip G. Alden, Edward McMahan, and Richard Gregor, who lost their lives a half century ago in the battle of Horse Creek, fought near Scottsbluff, Neb. The work is undertaken under orders from Captain Ray B. Harper, of the quartermaster’s corps of Omaha, and the remains are to be sealed in lead caskets and removed to the military cemetery at Cottonwood Cañon, a little east of North Platte. The graves now lie under a field of alfalfa about four miles west of the city of Scottsbluff, close by the old ruin of Fort Mitchell. This fort was first built by Bruce Husband, of the American Fur Company, and was named Fort Fontenelle, but was later named Fort Mitchell, after General Mitchell. At the time of the interment of Captain Fouts and his companions, it was called Camp Shuman, and was a substation of Fort Laramie. It would be impossible to find these graves now, were it not for the memory of old-timers, who, thirty years ago, came into the valley, riding the range, or looking for homesteads. During the winter of 1864-5 there were around Fort Laramie about 2,000 Indians, who professed to be friendly, and said that the war tribes had made it dangerous for them to pursue their usual vocation of hunting and trapping. Under orders they were fed and sustained through the cold winter, but the officials at the fort had good reason to believe that there were a number that were carrying word to the war braves. Every movement of the soldiers seemed to be transmitted almost instantly into the enemy’s camp.