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YOUNG HUNTERS IN PORTO RICO

Their first impulse was to hide; their second, to stay where they were. "We have done nothing wrong—he can't harm us," said Dick.

"Hullo, my Irish boy!" sung out Farvel, as he caught sight of Danny. "What are you doing here?"

"Sure an' we're restin'," replied Danny, coolly. "How are ye afther feelin' now?"

"Oh, I'm first-rate again." Farvel looked at Dick and Bob. "Did you belong to that party I met this morning?"

"We did."

"I didn't see you."

"We left before you came to your senses."

"Oh, I see."

"Sorry we can't offer you any supper," said Bob. "We just ate the last of what was cooked."

"I've had my supper, thank you," was the short reply. Then the man's face grew dark, and he whipped a handkerchief from his pocket. "Will you tell me who owns that?" he asked, tossing the article over.

"Why dat's Mr.——" began Danny, and stopped short.

"Where did the handkerchief come from?" questioned Dick slowly, hardly knowing what to say.

"It was the one I found bound around my head this morning, when I arrived at Caguas."