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 herself as she patted the last sod down over each of her sadly chipped and late-departed children.

While she still bent with much satisfaction over those three little mounds in the sawdust, and was carefully erecting a tombstone of cedar shingle to the memory of each of her lost ones, a pair of small but grotesquely tattooed arms were suddenly thrust round her plump waist, and a bold young pirate bore her struggling and kicking form to the deck of the waiting Greyhound.

"Push off, men!" cried the Captain, nervously, yet huskily, as he clambered over the bulwarks with considerable difficulty, Pauline Augusta being decidedly round and plump of figure.

Here at last was an adventure worthy of their steel. Here was something worth capturing. Pauline Augusta was the Mayor's daughter, and as such ought to bring a handsome sum in ransom money.

But they had not drifted out to midstream before that young lady began to realize just what was happening to her. As she beheld the Greyhound slowly glide farther away from