hind him the door flew open.
With a desperate wriggle he struggled through, and fell in a heap to the
ground just as the negro reached the window and made a wild lunge for
him. The next moment Jack was on his feet and off across the clearing
like a hare.

The four lawbreakers were quickly out of the house in full chase.
Presently there was the report of a pistol, and a shrill "wheeeu" just
over Jack's head. Ducking instinctively, but with grimly set lips, he
rushed on. Again came the whine of a bullet, and again. With a final
sprint Jack reached the cover of the woods in safety, darted to the
brush-pile and recovered his camera, and on, straight through the trees
for the spot at which he had hidden his wheel.

Love of outdoor life and sports now stood Jack in good stead. Despite the
exhausting efforts of his escape, and the hard running amid the trees,
over trunks and through undergrowth, he kept on at the top of his speed,
and finally reached the road ahead of the nearest of his pursuers.

Rushing for his wheel, he dragged it forth, and quickly had it on the
road. Not a moment too soon. As he sprang into the saddle there was a
shout and a crash of bushes but a few feet from him. But throwing all his
weight on the pedals, he shot away, and a moment after sped about a bend
in the road--and was safe.

Jack would not have been a real boy had there not been considerable pride
in his voice when, entering the "Star" office the following morning, he
handed West, the reporter, two small photographs, neatly mounted, and
said:

"Here are the pictures, Mr. West."

West sprang to his feet. "No! Great! Splendid!" he cried. "How did you do
it, Jack?

"But here--" Pushing Jack into a chair, he dropped back into his own, and
caught up a pencil. "Give me the whole story, from beginning to end. If
the police round up these fellows this morning we will run it in to-day's
edition."

This, with the aid of Jack's snap-shots, the police did, capturing the
entire band; and that afternoon's edition of the "Star" carried a
two-column story of Jack's adventure with the Black-Handers, which, with
the pictures, made what West declared "the biggest story of a month of
Sundays."

X

A RUNAWAY TRAIN

"Hurry in, Ward, or the lamp will be out!"

Alex, who had now been night operator at Foothills six months, closed the
station door behind him, and laughingly flicked his rain-soaked cap
toward the day operator, whom he had just co