Death.—Dreadful Accident.—Despair of Frank.—A Breakdown.—Ingenuity of the Driver.—Resumption of the Journey.

CHAPTER XXII.

The March ended.—A lonely Inn.—Evil Faces.—Beetling
Brows.—Sinister Glances.—Suspicions of the Party.—They put their
Heads together.—Conferences of the Party.—A threatening
Prospect—Barricades.—In Time of Peace prepare for War.—The
Garrison arm themselves.

CHAPTER XXIII.

The sleepless Watch.—The mysterious Steps.—The low Whispers.—They come! They come!—The Garrison roused.—To Arms! To Arms!—The beleaguered Party.—At Bay.—The decisive Moment—The Scaling Ladders.—Onset of the Brigands.—End of Troubles.

CHAPTER XXIV.

A beautiful Country.—Magnificent Scenery.—The Approach to
Albano.—Enthusiasm of the Boys.—Archaeology versus Appetite.—The
Separation of the Boys.—The Story of the Alban Lake and the ancient
subterranean.

CHAPTER XXV.

The lonely Path.—The sequestered Vale.—The old House.—A feudal
Castle.—A baronial Windmill.—A mysterious Sound.—A terrible
Discovery.—At Bay.—The wild Beast's Lair!—What is it?—A great
Bore.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Despair of Uncle Moses.—Frank and Bob endeavor to offer
Consolation.—The Search.—The Discovery at the Convent—The
Guide.—The old House.—The Captives.—The Alarm given.—Flight
of Uncle Moses and his Party.—Albans! to the Rescue!—The delivering
Host!

CHAPTER XXVII.

Arma Virumque cano!—The Chase of the wild Boar!—The Prisoners at the Window.—The Alban Army.—Wild Uproar.—Three hundred and sixty-five Pocket Handkerchiefs.—Flame.—Smoking out the Monster.—A Salamander.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

The Salamander inaccessible to Fire.—The last Appeal—Frank takes
Action.—He fires.—Casualty to Frank and Bob.—Onset of the
Monster.—Flight.—Tremendous Sensation.—The Guide's
Story.—Another Legend of Albano.—On to Rome.

THE YOUNG DODGE CLUB.

AMONG THE BRIGANDS.

CHAPTER I.

Stranger in a strange Land.—A Citadel of Trunks.—Besieged.—Retreat in good Order.—A most tremendous Uproar.—Kicks! Thumps!—Smash of Chain!—Crash of Tables!—A general Row!—The Cry for Help!—The Voice of David!—The Revelation of the Darkness!—The fiery Eyes!—The Unseen!—The Revelation of the Mystery.—A general Fight.

Mr. Moses V. Sprole had passed the greater part of his life in his native village, and being anxious to see the world, resolved upon a tour in Europe. As he did not care to go alone, he offered to take with him his four nephews, who were great favorites with their bachelor uncle, and his chief associates. This offer met with an eager response from the boys, and a willing assent from their parents, who fully believed that a tour of this description would be of immense benefit to them. This brief explanation will serve to account for the appearance of Uncle Moses in Naples, where he landed on a mellow day in February, en route for Switzerland, bowed down with the responsibility of several heavy trunks, and the still heavier responsibility of four fine lumps of boys, of whose troubles, trials, tribulations, and manifold adventures, he seemed, on the present occasion, to have a mournful presentiment.

These troubles began at once; for scarcely had they landed when they found themselves surrounded by the lazzaroni, and the air was filled with a babel of exclamations.

"Signori!" "Signo!" "Moosoo!" "Meestaire!" "Sare!" "Carra ze baggage!" "Tek ze loggage!" "Show ze hotel!" "Hotel della Europa!" "Hotel dell' Inghelterra!" "Hotel dell' America!" "Eccelenza, you wanta good, naisy, rosbif, you comma longsida me!" "Come long!" "Hurrah!" "Bravo!" "O, yais." "Ver nais." "O, yais. You know me. American Meestaire!"

All this, and ever so much more, together with scraps of French, German, Bohemian, Hungarian, Russian, and several other languages which the lazzaroni had picked up for the purpose of making themselves agreeable to foreigners. They surrounded Uncle Moses and his four boys in a dense crowd—grinning, chattering, gesticulating, dancing, pushing, jumping, and grimacing, as only Neapolitan lazzaroni can; and they tried to get hold of the luggage that lay upon the wharf.

Bagged, hatless, shirtless, blessed with but one pair of trousers per man; bearded, dirty, noisy; yet fat and good-natured withal; the lazzaroni produced a startling effect upon the newly arrived travellers.

Uncle Moses soon grew utterly bewildered by the noise and disorder. One idea, however, was prominent in his mind, and that was his luggage. He had heard of Italian brigands. At the sight of this crowd, all that he had beard on that subject came back before him. "Rinaldo Rinaldini," a charming brigand book, which had been the delight of his childhood, now stood out clear in his recollection. The lazzaroni seemed to be a crowd of bandits, filled with but one purpose, and that was to seize the luggage. The efforts of the lazzaroni to get the trunks roused him to action. Springing forward, he struck their hands away with a formidable cotton umbrella, and drew the trunks together in a pile. Three lay in a row, and one was on the top of these. The pile was a small pyramid.

"Here, boys," he cried; "you keep by me, Don't let these varmints get the trunks. Sit down on 'em, and keep 'em off."

Saying this, Uncle Moses put the two Clark boys on a trunk on one side, and the two Wilmot boys on a trunk on the other; and mounting himself upon the middle trunk, he sat down and glared defiantly at the enemy.

This action was greeted by the lazzaroni with a burst of laughter and a shout of,—

"Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-ra-vo!"

To which Uncle Moses and the boys made no reply. In fact, it would have been a little difficult for them to do so, as not one of them understood a word of any language spoken among men except their own. So they said nothing; but constituting themselves into a beleaguered garrison, they intrenched themselves within their citadel, and bade defiance to the foe.

The foe, on the other hand, pressed round them, bombarding the garrison with broken English, broken French, and broken German, and sometimes made an assault upon the trunks.

Time passed on, and the garrison sat there, holding their own. At length they all became aware of the fact that they were excessively hungry. It was very evident that this kind of thing could not last much longer.

Meanwhile Uncle Moses had recovered his presence of mind. He was naturally cool and self-possessed, and after mounting the trunks, and gathering the boys about him, he quickly rallied from his confusion, and looked eagerly around to find some way by which he might be extricated from his difficulty.

At last a way appeared.

Around him, in his immediate neighborhood, stood the lazzaroni, as urgent, as patient, and as aggressive as ever, with their offers of assistance. Beyond these were people passing up and down the wharf, all of whom were foreigners, and therefore inaccessible. Beyond these again was a wide space, and in the distance a busy street, with carriages driving to and fro.