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INTRODUCTION
TO CLINICAL
ENGINEERING
INTRODUCTION
TO CLINICAL
ENGINEERING

SAMANTHA JACQUES, PHD, FACHE

Vice President of Clinical Engineering, McLaren Healthcare,
Grand Blanc, MI, United States

BARBARA CHRISTE, PHD

Dean, School of Engineering Technology,
Farmingdale State College, Farmingdale, NY, United States
Academic Press is an imprint of Elsevier
125 London Wall, London EC2Y 5AS, United Kingdom
525 B Street, Suite 1650, San Diego, CA 92101, United States
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The Boulevard, Langford Lane, Kidlington, Oxford OX5 1GB, United Kingdom
Copyright © 2020 Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and
retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Details on how to seek
permission, further information about the Publisher’s permissions policies and our
arrangements with organizations such as the Copyright Clearance Center and the Copyright
Licensing Agency, can be found at our website: www.elsevier.com/permissions.
This book and the individual contributions contained in it are protected under copyright by
the Publisher (other than as may be noted herein).
Notices
Knowledge and best practice in this field are constantly changing. As new research and
experience broaden our understanding, changes in research methods, professional practices,
or medical treatment may become necessary.
Practitioners and researchers must always rely on their own experience and knowledge in
evaluating and using any information, methods, compounds, or experiments described
herein. In using such information or methods they should be mindful of their own safety
and the safety of others, including parties for whom they have a professional responsibility.
To the fullest extent of the law, neither the Publisher nor the authors, contributors, or
editors, assume any liability for any injury and/or damage to persons or property as a matter
of products liability, negligence or otherwise, or from any use or operation of any methods,
products, instructions, or ideas contained in the material herein.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress
ISBN: 978-0-12-818103-4

For Information on all Academic Press publications

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Publisher: Mara Conner

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Dedication

For my loving husband Brian and son Christian, thank you for
allowing me to always follow my dreams.
—Samantha Jacques

How grateful I am for the endless support from family and friends along
this formidable journey. Sam, we made a great team!
—Barb Christe
Contents

Foreword ix

1. The profession 1
Introduction 1
What is clinical engineering? 2
Responsibilities and roles 11
Potential employers and career pathways 11
Societies and collaboration 12
Code of ethics 15
Future opportunities for clinical engineering 19
Abbreviations 20
References 20

2. Healthcare technology basics 21

General types of medical technologies utilized in clinical settings 21
Devices throughout the healthcare system and relationship to patient care 24
Technology support life cycle 38
Abbreviations 50
References 50

3. Healthcare technology management 51

Systems engineering theory as applied to the clinical setting 51
The human-device interface and human factors 52
Computerized maintenance management systems 54
Medical device interoperability 64
Project management principles, as applied to clinical engineering 66
Ongoing support planning including service agreements 67
Vendor contracting and vendor management 71
Data-driven decisions and data analytic techniques 75
Financial management of medical technology 76
Clinician connections including communication and collaboration 78
Emerging technologies and technology transfer into healthcare settings 80
Abbreviations 81
References 81

vii
viii Contents

4. Safety and systems safety 83

Introduction 83
Regulations, regulatory bodies, codes, and standards 83
Medical device incidents 96
Recall management 101
Risk management 103
Abbreviations 107
References 107

5. Information technology 109

The clinical engineering information technology interface 109
Interoperability and integration of medical device data 112
Cybersecurity, threats, vulnerabilities, and mitigation 120
Abbreviations 125
References 126

6. Facilities management 127

Introduction 127
Electrical power 127
Plumbing systems and water quality management 129
Medical gas systems 132
Heating, ventilation, and air-conditioning systems 135
Building and renovation project management 137
Emergency preparedness 139
Infection prevention 142
Abbreviations 143
References 144

7. Human resource management 145

Workforce development, job descriptions, and succession planning 145
Strategic planning, goal development/cascading, and performance evaluations 147
Change management 157
Culture of safety 160
Project management 165
Abbreviations 166
References 166

Appendix: Additional readings 169

Index 261
Foreword

When I was asked to write an introduction to this book, I thought

“Wow, I’ve been in this business since 1980 and have seen it from many
sides, so I can just discuss what I have experienced.” Of course, thinking
deeper revealed that would be a book of its own. While many concepts
are the same today, clinical engineering is very different in today’s
world.
The first thing you will discover is there remains a lack of consistent
terminology, which still creates confusion. This extends from the name of
the profession to the hospital departments to the job titles, where many
technician positions are labeled engineers. Try to think past the naming
conventions and focus on the type of work being done and the value that
a clinical engineer brings to health care. The lack of consistency may con-
tribute to the great differences between what a clinical engineer may do
at one site versus another. There is a great diversity of focus that different
clinical engineers are engaged to provide. The commonality is the engi-
neering systems thinking process.
What you will find as you read through this book, is that one of the
truly great things about being a clinical engineer is that it is impossible to
become bored. A clinical engineer serves to a large extent as a bridge
between technology and medicine. In this capacity, there are myriad
opportunities in the ever-changing world of health care. Whether the
problem to solve is urgent or strategic, or covers direct patient care,
equipment integration, human factors, cybersecurity, or financial
improvement, there is always a long list to improve the performance of
the health system or related organization. For me, this is nirvana. After 39
years, I am as excited to see what tomorrow brings as I was when I started
my first job as clinical engineer at Hurley Medical Center in Flint,
Michigan, United States.
In those 39 years, I have had the privilege to work directly for large
and small hospitals, an academic medical center, a medical equipment
insurance company, a consulting company focused on clinical engineering,
and independent service organizations. I have been through hospital mer-
gers and acquisitions, and mergers and acquisitions in the service space as

ix
x Foreword

well. In addition to running small and large programs, I have served on an

artificial heart transplant team, taught hemodynamic monitoring principles,
served as an expert witness, made connections around the world, and
served on what seems like a million project teams. What you can expect
in this profession today is still only limited by your imagination.

Lawrence (Larry) W. Hertzler

CCE, AAMI Fellow
CHAPTER 1

The profession
Introduction
Healthcare delivery has evolved to depend on technology, both simple and
highly complex. A diverse group of professionals supports clinicians in the
utilization of devices, software, and systems to deliver patient care. Broadly,
these efforts are labeled healthcare technology management (HTM), a disci-
pline that interweaves patient safety, medical technology, and financial
stewardship. These relationships and activities are illustrated in Fig. 1.1.
Clinical engineers, as part of HTM, are one of the many contributors to
the delivery of safe and effective healthcare. Possessing a unique skill set,
clinical engineers collaborate with clinicians of all types, technicians, facility
managers, administrators, information technology (IT) support staff, risk
managers, and administrators, unified in a mission to enhance healthcare.

Figure 1.1 The healthcare technology management profession. AAMI, used with
permission.

Introduction to Clinical Engineering © 2020 Elsevier Inc.

DOI: https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-12-818103-4.00001-6 All rights reserved. 1
2 Introduction to Clinical Engineering

What is clinical engineering?

The American College of Clinical Engineering (ACCE) defines a clinical
engineer as follows:
A Clinical Engineer is a professional who supports and advances patient care
by applying engineering and managerial skills to health care technology.
About ACCE: Clinical Engineer (n.d.)

The Clinical Engineering Handbook describes the practice of clinical

engineering as the application of engineering principles, such as analysis
and systems principles, to improve healthcare (Dyro, 2004), acknowledg-
ing the highly complex systems of the healthcare environment featuring
patients, technology, facilities, and users. Clinical engineers possess diverse
knowledge and, thus, can bridge multiple domains of the environment of
healthcare with technology, facilitating communication and understand-
ing. The evolving nature of healthcare and the tools associated with
patient care also drives clinical engineering as a profession. As the defini-
tion of physician has adapted and changed over the history of healthcare,
in a parallel way so too has the definition of clinical engineer.
The term clinical engineer is not universally utilized and may be used
interchangeably in healthcare settings with the term biomedical engineer.
The confusion is exacerbated by academic institutions in the United
States that do not grant undergraduate clinical engineering degrees, which
can be obtained in other countries. Academic degrees are generally in bio-
medical engineering (BME). Many hospitals and other healthcare institu-
tions title the position as biomedical engineer, although the responsibilities
more closely align with clinical engineering. In addition, many depart-
ments are named clinical engineering but employ those with BME position
titles. The converse is also true; hospital departments named BME also
employ workers with a clinical engineering job title.
With this in mind, an exploration of the broad discipline of BME may
be instructive. The Biomedical Engineering Society (BMES) offers a list
of common focus areas of biomedical engineers:
1. neural engineering;
2. bionanotechnology;
3. systems physiology;
4. rehabilitation engineering;
5. orthopedic bioengineering;
6. medical imaging;
7. clinical engineering;
 The profession 3

8. cellular, tissue, and genetic engineering;

9. bionics;
10. biomechanics;
11. bioinstrumentation;
12. biomechatronics; and
13. biomedical electronics (FAQs about BME, n.d.).
The BME profession encompasses diverse specialties including artificial
limbs and cellular-level research. The many applications of engineering
principles associated with BME are far larger than the more narrowly
defined area of clinical engineering. Thus, clinical engineering may be
considered a focal area within the wide spectrum of the BME discipline.
The World Health Organization (WHO) also utilizes the term biomedi-
cal engineer as a broad label for a diverse profession. In their 2017 publica-
tion, the group noted the variations on the term:
“Biomedical engineering” includes equivalent or similar disciplines, whose names
might be different, such as medical engineering, electromedicine, bioengineer-
ing, medical and biological engineering and clinical engineering.
World Health Organization (2017)

Complicating professional labels is a common job title within the clini-

cal environment: biomedical engineer, often a position name provided to
technicians and technologists who support devices and medical equip-
ment. These technicians generally focus on the applications of technolo-
gies, while utilizing hands-on experience and providing services such as
repair, performance assurance testing, and preventive maintenance.
Academic preparation varies, but many technicians in these roles have
earned an associate’s degree in electronics or other closely related disci-
pline. The relationship among the technician, engineer, and leadership, as
characterized by the professional society, the Association for the
Advancement of Medical Instrumentation (AAMI), is shown in Fig. 1.2.

Historical perspective
In the late 1960s, the profession of clinical engineering emerged as a
BME specialty focused on broad issues in medical technology implemen-
tation beyond device maintenance and repair. Hospital safety awareness
dramatically surged with the publication of an article written by Ralph
Nader in Ladies Home Journal in March 1971. Nader claimed that there
were a large number of hospital electrocutions each year. Also during this
period, the community hospital system was expanding, and technology
4 Introduction to Clinical Engineering

Figure 1.2 HTM career ladder.

was increasingly utilized to monitor and image patients electronically. As a

result of these converging events, several organizations such as the
National Fire Protection Association (NFPA) and the American Hospital
Association (AHA) sought to establish guidelines and regulations to pro-
mote patient safety. In 1973, AAMI developed a certification program for
clinical engineers to supplement the biomedical equipment technician cer-
tification that has been available since 1970.
Hospital equipment inventories dramatically increased in the 1980s
and coincided with a societal desire to decrease the cost of healthcare.
This drove an expansion of hospital-based support staff for technical ser-
vices as well as a desire for technology planning and broader thinking
beyond “break-fix” technology maintenance. Regulations associated with
medical devices dramatically expanded with the creation of healthcare
facilities code NFPA 99 in 1984, a tool that sought to establish criteria
based on risk to patients, staff, or visitors in healthcare facilities to mini-
mize the harm caused by fire, explosion, and electrical hazards. As a result,
clinical engineers moved into the realm of regulatory compliance and
safety advocacy.
The Safe Medical Devices Act, which requires hospitals to identify and
report serious problems with medical devices, was passed in 1990. The
hiring of engineers to support medical technology expanded at that time.
Driving this shift was the Veterans Administration (VA) hospital system
that divided the country into BME districts and hired biomedical engi-
neers with academic degrees in engineering to oversee engineering
activities.
 The profession 5

Throughout the early 2000s, leaders in the clinical engineering profes-

sion including Joseph Bronzino, Joseph Dyro, Malcolm Ridgway, Yadin
David, and many others sought to differentiate clinical engineering as an
engineering discipline with an engineering scope of practice, promoting
attainment of baccalaureate and master’s level engineering degrees. Efforts
included expansion of academic programs, improved professional publica-
tions in the discipline, and public advocacy. This drive sought to improve
professionalization and status within society in general and the clinical
environment in particular, defining educational requirements and differen-
tiating the hospital technician from the engineer. Expansion of hospital
roles in facilities management also occurred during this time.
A 2005 joint report from the National Academy of Engineering and the
Institute of Medicine recommended expanding the role of engineering in
healthcare, specifically, to apply the principles of systems engineering and IT
for the delivery of healthcare (National Academy of Engineering and Institute
of Medicine, 2005). The report sought to address the “growing realization
within the healthcare community of the critical role information/communi-
cations technologies, systems engineering tools, and related organizational
innovations must play in addressing the interrelated quality and productivity
crises facing the healthcare system.” The report recommended the application
of engineering principles such as human factors, supply chain management,
and systems modeling as tools to support quality healthcare and was viewed as
a catalyst for improved recognition of clinical engineers. However, wide-
spread recognition of the value of these engineering principles by healthcare
organizations has emerged slowly since the report publication.
One dramatic leap forward in IT applications was associated with imple-
mentation of the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (ARRA)
adopted on February 13, 2009. The Health Information Technology for
Economic and Clinical Health (HITECH) Act part of the ARRA offered
financial incentives to hospitals to enact electronic medical records, driving
the move from paper medical records to electronic files. A 2012 deadline
drove major changes in the format of patient medical records, the intercon-
nectedness of medical devices to the medical record, and the management of
patient data. The role of clinical engineers in managing potentially massive
amounts of patient data and coordinating the connection and communica-
tion of devices through the hospital’s network has expanded additional spe-
cialty areas such as network clinical engineering and cybersecurity clinical
engineering. Interconnectedness has driven a closer working relationship
between the clinical engineering profession and IT department staff.
6 Introduction to Clinical Engineering

The profession
Clinical engineers are tightly integrated into the healthcare system through
the support of existing medical equipment technology, the development
of medical devices, and the creation of new knowledge that drives inno-
vation in medical technology. The WHO offers a well-crafted diagram to
visualize the interconnectedness of these professional facets.
The relationships as shown in Fig. 1.3 between the medical device
industry, the government as regulator and funding source, and healthcare
providers as healthcare delivery venues are interwoven with academic
opportunities. Innovations in medical technology evolved from basic
research are implemented by medical device manufacturers. A clinical
engineer must have an eye toward future technologies, improvements in
existing technologies, and techniques to deliver patient care effectively.
Innovations
• R&D
• Basic sciences • Clinical trials
• Applied sciences • Lobbying
• Standards • Manufacturing
• Legislation Biomaterials • Marketing, Sales
• Regulation Industry
• Third-party services
• Safety Prototyping Clinical services
• Grants Devices
Startups
• Service programs
• Credentialling Artificial organs
Patents
• Accreditation R&D partnerships Support systems
• Licensing Device design
• Safety-nets
• Public health Registration Academic education, • Tech assessment
R&D, Continuing Ed
Licensing
• Acquisition,
R&D
contracting
Certification
Degrees • Supply-chain mgt
Fellowships
Credentials • IT integration
Conferences
Institutional • Service strategy
foundations • Planning
Health-care • Project mgt
Government Biomedical and
clinical systems
providers • Training
engineering • Tech managemet
• Risk managemet
• Quality and Safety

• Stewarship: body of knowledge Operations

• Stewarship: body of practice Dynamic synthesis

Professional • Conferences • Leadership development • Educational standards, curricula

societies • Training • Technical standards • Publications
• Credentialing criteria • Job families • Professional development

Figure 1.3 The biomedical engineering profession.

Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
 “Good boy!” she cried. “When’ll you go?”
“Now,” he answered. “I kin jest ketch Number Four. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye, Jack,” she answered, and caught him suddenly in her
arms and kissed him.
She watched him as he went down the path, then turned, and
composing her face as well as she was able, mounted the stair and
took up again her station by Allan’s bed.

Half an hour after Jack had got off the train at Coalville, he
entered the office of the Coalville Coal Company.
“I want a gun,” were his first words.
“What for?” inquired the man at the desk.
“T’ look fer th’ robbers.”
The man gazed at him thoughtfully. There was something in
Jack’s appearance, a certain wildness, which alarmed him a little.
“I don’t believe we care to employ any more deputies,” he said at
last.
“I don’t want t’ be employed—I don’t want no wages—I’m a
volunteer.”
At that moment, the door opened and a man came in,—a tall,
thin man, whose head was bandaged and the skin of whose face
was peeling off.
“Here, Jed,” said the man at the desk, glad to turn the task of
dealing with a probable madman into more competent hands, “is a
recruit. And, strangely enough, he doesn’t ask for pay.”
“It ain’t a bit strange,” protested Jack, and he explained briefly
who he was.
 When he had finished, Jed held out his hand.
“Shake,” he said. “That kid o’ your’n is all right—grit clear
through. Will he git well?”
“Oh, he’ll git well, all right.”
“Good!” cried Jed, his face brightening. “I’ve been worryin’ about
him considerable. How’d he git his ribs broke?”
“One o’ them fellers kicked him in th’ side,” explained Jack, and
repeated the story he had heard from Mary.
“Th’ skunk!” said Jed, when he had finished, his face very dark.
“Th’ low-down skunk! I only wish I could git my hands on him fer
about two minutes.”
“So do I,” agreed Jack, his lips quivering. “That’s why I came.”
Jed held out his hand again.
“I’m with you!” he said. "We’ll go on a little still-hunt of our own.
I’d intended t’ go by myself, but I’ll be glad to hev you along."
So Jack, provided with rifle and revolver, presently sallied forth
beside his new friend.
“No trace o’ them yet?” he asked.
“Not a trace,” Jed answered. “It beats me. But one thing I’m sure
of—it’s possible that they managed t’ slip through my lines, but they
didn’t take th’ chest with ’em.”
“Then what did they do with it?”
“That’s what I’m a-goin’ t’ find out,” said Jed, grimly. “It’s
somewhere here in these hills, an’ I’m goin’ t’ find it if it takes ten
years.”
And, indeed, after the first day’s search, it seemed to Jack that it
might easily take much longer than that.
 “There’s one thing they might ’a’ done with it,” Jed remarked, as
they turned homeward in the twilight. “They might ’a’ shoved it up in
some of th’ old workin’s around here. They’re full o’ fire-damp, o’
course, an’ no man could venture in them an’ live, so I don’t see jest
how they’d work it. But to-morrer we’ll take a look at ’em.”
So the next morning they set out, carrying, instead of rifles, a
collection of ropes, candles, and lanterns, which Jed had procured
from the mine.
“I’ve got a plan of th’ old workin’s, too,” he said. "There’s some
over on th’ other side of th’ hill which it ain’t any use wastin’ time
on. Them fellers couldn’t ’a’ carried that chest over th’ ridge, if
they’d tried a month. But there’s six or eight on this side. There’s th’
fust one, over yonder," and he pointed to a black hole in the hillside.
“All of these old workin’s,” he went on, “are what they call drifts—
that is, wherever they found th’ coal croppin’ out, they started in a
tunnel, an’ kept on goin’ in till th’ vein pinched out. Then they
stopped and started another tunnel on th’ next outcrop. They’re all
driven in on an incline, so they’ll drain theirselves, an’ as soon as th’
company stopped pumpin’ air into them, they probably filled up with
gas, so we’ve got t’ be mighty careful.”
He clambered up to the mouth of the tunnel and peered into it
cautiously.
“Can’t see nothin’,” he said. “Let’s try fer gas.”
He took from his pocket a leather bag, from which he extracted a
little ball of cotton saturated in oil.
“Stand aside,” he said, and himself stood at one side of the
mouth of the tunnel. Then, grasping the ball by a piece of wire
attached to it, he struck a match, touched it to the cotton, and then
hurled the ball with all his force into the opening.
It seemed to Jack that there was a sort of quick throb in the air,
a sheet of flame shot out of the tunnel mouth, and an instant later a
dull rumbling came from within the hill.
Jed caught up a lantern, snapped back the covering of wire
gauze which protected the wick, and lighted it.
“Come on,” he said. “It’s safe for awhile now,” and he led the way
into the cavern.
For a moment Jack could see nothing; then as his eyes grew
accustomed to the gloom, he discerned the black and dripping walls
on either hand, and the dark void before, into which Jed walked,
swinging the lantern from side to side.
But he did not go far. Fifty feet from the entrance, a pile of debris
blocked the way. Jed swung his lantern over it and inspected it.
“No use t’ look any further in here,” he said. “This stuff’s been
down a long time. Let’s go on to number two.”
The second tunnel was about five hundred feet from the first
one, and resembled it exactly. But when Jed threw into it his blazing
ball, there was no explosion.
“Hello!” he said, in surprise, and then, bending down, he saw the
ball blazing brightly on the floor of the tunnel, some distance from
the entrance. “Why, that hole is ventilated as well as a house!” he
added. “Plenty of air there,” and catching up the lantern, which he
had not extinguished, he started into the tunnel.
The air was fresh and pure, and Jed, looking about for an
explanation, was not long in finding it.
“Look up there,” he said, pointing to where a glimmer of light
showed through the gloom above. “There’s a flue up there—an
accident, most likely,—just a crack in the rock,—but it lets the gas
out all right. Why, a feller could live in here—By George!” he added,
“some feller has been livin’ here. Look there.”
 Jack followed the motion of his finger, and saw, on the floor, a
pile of half-burned coal. Over it was a bent piece of iron which had
been driven into the floor and evidently served as a crane. A pot and
a couple of pans lay near the base of one of the pillars which had
been left to support the roof.
“And they was more than one,” Jed continued, and pointed to
four lumps of coal grouped around the central pile. “They used them
to set on. It’s dollars to doughnuts here’s where th’ gang stayed till
they was ready t’ spring their trap. Th’ question is, are they here
yet?”
“You kin bet your life they ain’t,” answered Jack, confidently.
“’Cause why?”
“’Cause we’re here t’ tell th’ tale. If they was here, they’d ’a’
picked us off ten minutes ago. Think what purty marks we made.”
“Mebbe they thought they was a posse with us.”
“Well, they don’t think so now, an’ they ain’t shot us yet.”
Jed nodded and moved forward.
“Well, if they ain’t here, mebbe th’ chest is,” he said, but they
saw no sign of it, although they explored the chamber thoroughly.
“They could ’a’ reached here with it easy enough,” he went on. “Th’
road’s jest down there, an’ th’ station ain’t over half a mile away.
Nobody thought o’ their gittin’ out so clost to th’ station. That’s th’
reason I didn’t find their tracks. They drove th’ wagon on nearly six
mile afore they turned it loose. Steady, steady,” he added, suddenly,
and stopped.
At his feet yawned a pit of unknown depth. He swung his lantern
over it and peered down, trying to see the bottom. Then he stood
upright with a sharp exclamation.
“It’s down there,” he said.
 “What is?”
“The chest. Look over. Don’t you see it?”
“I kin see something,” answered Jack, “but it might be a lump o’
coal, or any old thing. What makes you think it’s th’ chest?”
“I know it is,” Jed asserted. “You wait here till I git th’ ropes,” and
he hurried away toward the mouth of the tunnel.
Jack, holding the lantern at arm’s length and shading his eyes
with his other hand, leaned over the pit and stared down long and
earnestly. But strain his eyes as he might, he could discern no details
of the oblong mass below. That it should be the chest seemed too
great a miracle.
But Jed was back in a moment, a coil of rope in his hand.
“Now I’ll show you,” he said, and laying down the rope, took
from his pocket another of the oil-saturated balls, lighted it and
dropped it into the pit.
It struck the bottom and sputtered for a moment, then burned
clear and bright.
And the two men gazed fascinated at what it revealed to them.
The chest was there, as Jed had said; and beneath it, crushed
against the rock, lay a man.
 CHAPTER XXVIII
JED STARTS FOR HOME
Only for an instant did Jed Hopkins and Jack Welsh stand
motionless there on the edge of the pit, staring down at the
gruesome sight the burning cotton disclosed to them. Then Jed
sprang erect, his lips compressed, caught up the rope, and rapidly
made a noose in one end of it.
“I’ll go down,” he said. “I’m th’ lightest, an’ I guess you kin
handle me all right. Stand well back from th’ edge an’ git a good
hold. Let it play over th’ rock here where it’s smooth. Ready?”
“All right,” Jack answered, taking a turn of the rope around his
arm and bracing himself for the weight.
Jed sat down at the edge of the pit, placed one foot in the noose
he had made, tested it, and then swung himself off. Jack paid out
the line slowly and carefully, so that it might not get beyond his
control. At the end of a moment, the line slackened, and Jack,
looking down into the pit, saw his companion bending over the
ghastly figure crushed against the floor.
“He’s dead,” Jed announced, after a short examination. “He’s
mashed right in. That box must o’ caught him square on th’ breast.
He never knowed what hit him.”
“Who is he?” asked Jack, in an awed whisper, and then he
started violently back, as something dark and uncanny whirred past
his face,—for Jack was not without his superstitions, and the
surroundings were certainly ghostly enough to impress the strongest
heart. As he looked up, he fancied he saw two eyes gleaming at him
out of the darkness; again there was a whir of wings past the
lantern, and then he laughed aloud, for he saw his spectral visitor
was only a bat.
“What’s th’ matter?” queried Jed, looking up in surprise. “I don’t
see nothin’ t’ laugh at.”
“There’s a lot o’ bats up here,” explained Jack, a little sheepishly.
“I was jest gittin’ ready t’ run—I thought they was banshees. Do you
know who th’ pore feller is?”
Jed struck a match and examined the dead man’s face.
“No, I don’t know him,” he said at last. "An’ yet his face seems
sort o’ familiar, too. Why, yes; it’s a feller who’s been workin’ around
our stables. By gum! It’s th’ one thet druv th’ wagon! We’ve been
lookin’ fer his corpse everywhere; an’ when we didn’t find it, we
thought he was in cahoots with th’ robbers an’ had skipped out with
’em! Now how do you suppose he got here?"
Jack, of course, could find no answer to the question, but stood
staring stupidly down until Jed, by a mighty effort, rolled the box to
one side, and passed the noose beneath the dead man’s arms.
“All right,” Jed called. “I think you kin lift him—he ain’t very
heavy.”
And Jack slowly pulled the body up, hand over hand, the muscles
he had acquired by long years of work on section standing him in
good stead.
Then, as the ghastly face, hanging limply back, came within the
circle of light cast by his lantern, he saw it clearly, and in the shock it
gave him almost let the body fall.
“Good God!” he muttered. “Good God!” and stared down,
fascinated, into the half-closed, lustreless eyes.
For the dead man was Dan Nolan.
 Just how he had met death there at the bottom of that pit was
never certainly known. Perhaps he had been sent down ahead to
steady the chest in its descent and cast loose the ropes, and the
chest had slipped or got beyond control of the men who were
lowering it and crashed down upon him. Or perhaps he himself,
helping to lower it, had lost his balance and fallen, only to be
crushed by it as it, too, fell. His companions, terrified, no doubt, by
the tragedy, had waited only to assure themselves that he was dead,
and had then drawn up the ropes and fled.
Some of those who knew the story of Nolan’s treachery to the
robbers, believed that it was not an accident at all, but that his
companions had deliberately used this method of avenging
themselves and getting rid of him, now that his usefulness to them
was past. Whether by accident or design, certain it was that Nolan
had met his end miserably at the very place where his captors had
intended him to die.
As soon as Jed was got out of the pit, help was summoned, for
the box was far too heavy for two men to raise. The news that it had
been found spread like wildfire, and a regular procession started for
the mouth of the old mine to see it recovered. Among them was the
paymaster, and, as soon as the box was hauled up, he produced a
key from his pocket, turned it in the lock, and threw back the lid.
“Good!” he said. “They didn’t stop to open it. Knew they ran the
risk of being held up and searched, and didn’t want any of the stuff
to be found on them. They certainly had every reason to believe that
it was safely planted here.”
“They didn’t have time t’ open it,” said Jed. "That lock was
specially made—see how it throws three bolts instead o’ one.
Nobody could ’a’ picked it. Th’ only way they could ’a’ got that chest
open was t’ blow it, like a safe, an’ I don’t suppose they was fixed
fer that kind o’ work, comin’, as they did, straight from th’ pen."
 “Or perhaps they was scared away by Nolan’s death,” added
Jack. “I certainly wouldn’t ’a’ cared t’ stay here arter that!”
“Well, whatever the cause, the money’s here,” said the
paymaster, and closed the lid again and locked it.

The evening shadows were lengthening along the path as Jack

climbed up to the little house back of the railroad yards, and softly
opened the door and entered. Mary was in the kitchen, and, at the
sound of his step, turned toward him, her face very pale, her eyes
asking the question her lips did not dare to utter. Jack saw the
question and understood.
“He’s dead,” he said, briefly.
“Oh, Jack, not that!” cried Mary, her face gray with horror. “Not
that! I didn’t mean it! God knows I didn’t mean it!”
“Don’t worry. ’Twasn’t me killed him. T knowed I couldn’t do it.
But I’d ’a’ took him back to th’ pen, myself, an’ waited t’ see him
locked up.”
Mary drew a deep breath of relief, and the colour returned to her
face again.
“Thank God!” she said. “I was prayin’ all night, Jack, that you
wouldn’t find him; I was so worrited t’ think that I’d let you go like
that! And yet he wasn’t no better than a snake!”
“Well, he’s gittin’ his deserts now,” and Jack told her the story of
the finding of the body.
Mary listened to the end without offering to interrupt.
“’Twas God’s judgment, Jack,” she said, solemnly, when he had
finished. “But,” she added, with a quick return of housewifely
instinct, “you must be half-starved.”
 “I am purty hungry, an’ that’s a fact,” he admitted. “What’s that
you’ve got on th’ stove? It smells mighty good,” and he sniffed
appreciatively.
“It’s some chicken broth fer Allan. Would y’ like some?”
“A good thick beefsteak ’d be more in my line. How is th’ boy?”
“Comin’ on nicely,” answered Mary, as she hurried to the pantry.
She reappeared in a moment, bringing back with her just the sort of
steak Jack was thinking of.
He stared at it in astonishment.
“What are you,” he demanded, “a witch? Do you jest wave your
wand an’ make things happen?”
“Oh, no,” laughed Mary. “I bought it this mornin’,” and the steak
was soon sizzling temptingly in a skillet.
“And you’re sure th’ boy’s comin’ along all right?” he asked.
“Th’ docther says he kin set up day arter t’-morrer. He’s got his
side in a plaster cast, an’ says he’ll keep it there till th’ ribs knit. He
says that won’t take long.”
The doctor, as will be seen, counted on Allan’s perfect health and
vigorous constitution; nor did he count in vain, for two days later he
permitted the patient to rise from the bed, helped him carefully to
descend the stairs, and saw him comfortably installed in a great
padded chair by the front window, whence he could look down over
the busy yards.
“Why, it seems like old times,” he said, smiling, as he sank back
into the chair. “It isn’t so very long ago that I was sitting here with a
bullet-hole through me.”
“You certainly have had your share,” agreed the doctor. “It’s just
about two years since I cut that bullet out from under your shoulder-
blade. What did you do with it?”
 “Here it is,” said Mary, and taking a small bottle from the
mantelpiece, she showed the little piece of flattened lead inside.
“You’ll get over this a good deal quicker,” went on the doctor,
reassuringly. “You may walk around a little, only be careful to move
slowly and not to bring any strain or wrench upon the side. I’ll look
in once in awhile and make sure you’re getting along all right,” and
with that he was gone.
At the gate, Allan saw him meet a mail-carrier, and pause to
answer a question which the carrier put to him. Then he jumped into
his buggy, and drove away, while the carrier mounted to the front
door and knocked.
“I’ve got a registered letter here for John Welsh,” he said, when
Mary opened the door. “Is he here?”
“Here I am,” said Jack, “but th’ letter must be fer some other
John Welsh. Where’s it from?”
“It’s from Coalville.”
“Then it’s fer you, Jack,” said Mary, quickly.
“All right; sign for it here,” said the carrier, and presented the
card and book.
Jack signed silently, and waited till the door closed behind the
carrier.
“I don’t believe it’s fer me,” he said. “Who’d be sendin’ me a
registered letter?”
“The best way to find out is to open it,” suggested Allan.
“Here, you open it,” said Jack, “an’ if it ain’t fer me, shut it up
agin. I’ve heerd o’ people bein’ sent t’ jail fer openin’ letters that
didn’t belong to ’em.”
 “Very well,” assented Allan, and tore open the envelope and drew
out the letter.
Jack noticed how his face changed and his hands trembled as he
glanced through it.
“Put it back, boy,” he cried. “I knowed it wasn’t fer me. Put it
back!”
“Yes, it is for you, Jack,” said Allan, looking up, his eyes bright
with tears. Listen:
“‘Mr. John Welsh,
“’Wadsworth, Ohio.
“’Dear Sir:—As you are no doubt aware, the Coalville Coal
Company offered a reward of five thousand dollars for the recovery
of the chest, with contents intact, which was stolen on the night of
the 10th inst. Mr. Jed Hopkins and yourself succeeded in finding the
chest, and an examination proved the contents to be undisturbed. It
is with great pleasure, therefore, that I enclose the company’s check
for twenty-five hundred dollars, your share of the reward, and the
company desires also to thank you for the great service which you
assisted in rendering it. Please acknowledge receipt of check.
“Very truly yours,
“‘S. R. Alderson,
“’President.’”
For a moment, Jack stood staring at Allan, incapable of
utterance; then, by a mighty effort, he pulled himself together.
“But that ain’t right!” he protested, violently. “I didn’t find th’
chest! I didn’t do nothin’! It was Jed Hopkins. I jest went along! I
didn’t do a blame thing! I won’t take it!”
Mary looked at him, her face alight with love and pride.
 “That’s right, Jack!” she cried. “We don’t want nothin we hain’t
earned honest—we won’t wrong nobody in this world!”
Allan sat looking at the slip of pink paper he held between his
fingers.
“I don’t know,” he said, slowly. “It seems to me that you are
certainly entitled to a portion of the reward—perhaps not to half of
it. You surely helped some.”
“If I did, I don’t remember it,” said Jack. “Besides—”
A knock at the door interrupted him. Mary opened it, to find a
tall, lean figure standing on the threshold.
“Why, it’s Jed Hopkins!” cried Allan. “Come in! Come in!”
“Sure I will,” laughed Jed, stooping a little as he entered the
door. “An’ how is the kid?”
“The kid’s first-rate,” Allan assured him, clasping warmly the
great palm held out to him. “Mary and Jack,” he went on, turning to
the others, “this is the man who saved my life. He was on fire
himself and the flames were all about him, but he stopped long
enough to get hold of me and pull me out.”
“Oh, shet up!” protested Jed. “I didn’t stop at all. I jest sort o’
hooked on to you as I was goin’ past.”
Mary came up to him, all her heart in her face.
“We can’t thank you,” she said. "They ain’t no use in our tryin’ t’
do that. But if that boy’d died like that—it—it—it would ’a’ broke our
hearts."
“An’ this is th’ feller they think I’ll rob,” broke in Jack.
“Rob?” repeated Jed, looking at him.
 “Do ye think fer a minute,” cried Jack, fiercely, “I’d take one
penny o’ that reward? Not me! I didn’t earn it! Here!” and he seized
the check from Allan’s fingers and crushed it into Jed’s hand. “Take
it. It’s yourn.”
Jed, his face very red, stared from the check to Jack and from
Jack to the check. Then a queer twinkle came into his eye.
“Oh, all right,” he said, “if you feel that way.”
“I do,” said Jack, “an’ so does Mary,” and he watched until Jed
had folded the check and placed it in his pocket. “Now,” he went on,
with a sigh of relief, “I feel better. O’ course you’ll stay t’ supper?”
“O’ course I will,” answered Jed, promptly, and Mary bustled
away to prepare the meal.
And when it was served, half an hour later, Jed was given the
place of honour between Jack and Allan, with Mamie and Mary
across from him.
“Well,” he said, looking around at the smoking dishes, "this
reminds me of old times, afore I pulled up stakes an’ went West. I
was born in New Hampshire, an’ didn’t know when I was well off, an’
so run away like so many fool boys do. I ain’t had a home since—an’
I’ve never had th’ nerve t’ go back thar an’ face my old mother that I
deserted like that. You see, I jest want t’ show you what a good-fer-
nothin’ skunk I am."
“You’ve got a home right here, if you want it,” said Mary, quickly,
out of the depths of her heart.
Jed cleared his throat once or twice before he found the voice to
answer.
“Mrs. Welsh,” he said, “I’m a-goin’ back now, jest as fast as a
train kin take me. I wanted t’ come over fust an’ say good-bye t’ th’
kid. He’s clear grit. But I won’t never fergit them words o’ yours.”
 At last he pushed his chair back from the table and rose.
“Th’ best meal I’ve eat in twenty year,” he said. “But I’ve got t’ go
—my train starts at six-ten. How much do I owe you?”
“What!” cried Jack, his eyes flashing. “Owe us? Ye don’t owe us a
cent!”
“Do you take me fer a dead beat!” shouted Jed. “I’m a-goin’ t’
pay fer that meal. Here,” he cried, and fillped a folded bit of pink
paper out upon the table, “take that. It’s wuth it.”
Allan alone understood, and he began to smile, though his eyes
were wet.
“You infernal galoot,” went on Jed, excitedly, "did you suppose fer
a minute I’d take that money? I was never so near lickin’ a man in
my life! Take it, or by George, I’ll lick you yet!"
And with that, he jumped on Mamie, caught her up, kissed her,
and fairly ran from the house.
 CHAPTER XXIX
THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER
But those were happy hearts he left behind him, and sweet were
the dreams they dreamed that night. Mary, the summation and
perfect example of Irish housewives, dreamed of a little home in the
suburbs, with an orchard and garden, and a yard for chickens, and a
house for the cow, and a pen for the pigs, where she could be busy
and happy all day long, working for her loved ones. Jack dreamed of
a new gown his wife should have, and of new dresses for Mamie,
and some new books for Allan, and a new pipe for himself,—for Jack
had only a limited idea of what twenty-five hundred dollars would
accomplish. And Allan dreamed of the day when he, too, could come
in as Jed Hopkins had done, and leave behind him a princely gift.
“Jack,” said Mary, at the table next morning, the memory of her
dream still strong upon her, “I’ve been wishin’ we could move t’
some little place where we could kape chickens an’ a cow.”
“I wish so, too, Mary,” said Jack. “Mebbe some day we kin.”
“It ’d be jest th’ place fer Mamie,—she don’t git enough
outdoors.”
“Why, what’s th’ matter with her?” asked Jack, with a quick
glance at the child.
“Nothin’ at all,” Mary hastened to assure him; “but she ought t’
have a big yard t’ play in—an’ th’ tracks is mighty dangerous.”
“Yes, they is,” Jack agreed. “I wish we could git away from
them.”
 “Well, I’ll look around,” said Mary, and wisely let the subject drop
there.
She did look around, and to such good purpose that two days
later, which was Sunday, she led Jack triumphantly to a little house
standing back from the road in a grove of trees, just outside the city
limits.
“I wanted ye to look at it,” she said. “I thought mebbe you’d like
t’ live here.”
From the triumphant way in which she showed him about the
place, and pointed out its beauties and advantages, it was quite
evident that her own mind was made up. And, indeed, it was a
perfect love of a place. The house was well-built and contained eight
rooms—just the right number; the yard in front was shaded by
graceful maples, and flanked on the left by a hedge of lilac. Behind it
was a milk-house, built of brick, and with a long stone trough at the
bottom, through which cold, pure water from a near-by spring was
always flowing. Then there was a garden of nearly half an acre; an
orchard containing more than a hundred trees, and outbuildings—
just such outbuildings as Mary had always longed for, roomy and dry
and substantial. Nearly an hour was consumed in the inspection, and
finally they sat down together on the steps leading up to the front
porch.
“It’s a mighty nice place,” said Jack. “There can’t be no mistake
about that.”
“An’ it’s fer sale,” said Mary. “Fer sale cheap.”
“Well, he’ll be a lucky man what gits it.”
“Jack,” said Mary, with sudden intensity, “you kin be that man—
all you have t’ do is to write your name acrost th’ back of that little
slip o’ pink paper an’ give it t’ me. T’-morrer I’ll bring you th’ deed
fer this place, an’ we’ll move in jest as soon as I kin git it cleaned
up.”
 Jack looked about him and hesitated.
“I wanted you t’ have a new dress, Mary,” he said at last. “A silk
one, what shines an’ rustles when ye walk—like Mrs. Maroney’s.”
“What do I keer fer a silk dress?” demanded Mary, fiercely. “Not
that!” and she snapped her fingers. “I got plenty o’ duds. But a
home like this, Jack,—I want a home like this!”
There was an appeal in her voice there was no resisting, even
had Jack felt inclined to resist, which he did not in the least. He took
from his pocket the slip of pink paper, now a little soiled, and from
the other the stump of a lead pencil. Slowly and painfully he wrote
his name, then handed the check to Mary.
“There you are,” he said. “An’ I’m glad t’ do it, darlint. Fer this
place suits me, too.”
And a pair of red-birds in the lilac hedge were astonished and
somewhat scandalized to see the woman, who had been sitting
quietly enough, fling herself upon him and hug him until he begged
for mercy.

Mamie had remained at home to entertain Allan, which she did

by getting him to read to her. She had grown to like Jean Valjean,
too, though she preferred the thrilling portions of the story to the
quieter ones which told of Bishop Welcome. This time she chose to
hear again of Jean Valjean’s flight across Paris with Cosette—how
she shivered when he allowed that piece of money to rattle on the
floor, or when, looking backward, he saw the police following him
through the night; how she shuddered when he found himself
trapped in that blind alley, hemmed in by lofty walls, where all
seemed lost; and then the horrors of the hours that followed—But
once Cosette was stowed safely away in the hut of the old, lame
gardener, the curly head began to nod, and Allan, looking up at last
from his reading, saw that she had gone to sleep.
 He laid his book aside, and sat for a long time looking down over
the yards, busy even on Sunday; for the work of a great railroad
never ceases, day or night, from year end to year end. He thought
of the evening, nearly three years agone, when he had first crossed
the yards by Jack Welsh’s side, a homeless boy, who was soon to
find a home indeed. How many times he had crossed them since!
How many times—
A man was crossing them now, a well-dressed, well-set-up man,
whom, even at that distance, the boy knew perfectly. It was Mr.
Schofield, who had proved himself so true a friend. Allan, as he
came nearer, waved at him from the window, pleased at the chance
for even a distant greeting; but instead of passing by, the
trainmaster entered the gate and mounted toward the house. Allan
had the door open in a moment.
“Why, hello,” said the trainmaster, shaking his outstretched hand
warmly. “Are you as spry as all this? You’ll soon be able to report for
duty.”
“I can report to-morrow, if you need me, sir,” Allan answered. “I
can’t indulge in any athletics, yet, but I can work a key all right.
Besides, I’m tired of sitting around doing nothing.”
“Well, we’ll say Thursday,” said Mr. Schofield. “I can manage to
worry along without you till then.”
“I’ll be on hand Thursday morning,” Allan promised.
“Oh, I don’t want you in the morning—you’ll report at eleven at
night for the third trick, east end.”
“Why,” stammered Allan, his lips trembling, “why, do you mean
—”
“I mean you’re a regular dispatcher,” explained the trainmaster,
briefly. “Nothing extraordinary about it at all. Mr. Heywood has been
made general manager, with headquarters at Cincinnati, so we all
take a step up.”
 “Then you’re—”
“Yes, I’m superintendent. Look about the same, don’t I?”
Allan held out his hands.
“I’m glad,” he said. “And I know one thing—there’s not a road on
earth that’s got a better one!”

The doctor looked rather grave when Allan told him he was going
to work Thursday night, but really there was little danger so long as
the boy was careful to avoid strain on the injured side. The plaster
cast had been removed, and in its place had been substituted by a
broad leather bandage, drawn so tightly about the chest as to
prevent all movement of the ribs. That was to stay there until the
injury was quite healed. But, aside from the discomfort of this
bandage, the boy was in no pain, he had had no fever after the
second day; and, despite the fiery protests of Jack and Mary, the
doctor finally consented that Allan should go to work as he had
promised.
“T’ think of a boy with two broke ribs in his body a-goin’ t’ work—
an’ at sech a time o’ night!” fumed Mary, as she packed his lunch-
basket for him. “But a railroad ain’t got no feelin’s. All it wants is t’
work a man till he’s played out an’ done fer, an’ then throw him
away like an old glove.”
“Maybe I can get a job as crossing watchman when that time
comes,” laughed Allan. “I ought to be good for a few years yet,
anyway.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me a bit t’ be follerin’ yer coffin a week from
now,” declared Mary, darkly; but, just the same, it would have
surprised her very much.
Allan laughed again, as he took up his lunch-basket and started
across the yards. He was a little early, but he wanted to spend an
extra five or ten minutes going over the train-orders, to make sure
that he understood them thoroughly. As he approached the station,
he saw two carriages drive up. A number of young men and women
got out of them—they had evidently been packed in pretty tight—
and gathered in a voluble group on the platform, evidently waiting
for the east-bound flyer, which was almost due.
Allan, passing quite near, suddenly found himself looking into the
blue eyes of Betty Heywood. Instinctively he raised his hat.
“Why, how do you do,” she said, and held out her hand in the
old, friendly manner. “I hear you’ve been distinguishing yourself
again.”
“Just blundering into trouble,” he answered, smiling. “Some
people are always doing that, you know.”
“Well, that’s better than running away from it—some people do
that, too.”
“Oh, yes,” he agreed, and then stopped. He found it strangely
difficult to talk to her with all these friends about her. If they were
only alone together—
“I’m going away to school,” she went on, seemingly not noticing
his shyness.
“Then you’ll be gone a long time?”
“Oh, I’m never coming back to Wadsworth—that is to live. You
see, we’re moving to Cincinnati, where papa will have his
headquarters. But, of course,” she added, “I shall often come back
to see my friends. Oh, there’s my train! Good-bye!” and she held out
her hand again.
“Good-bye,” said Allan; then, not trusting himself to speak, he
turned hastily away and mounted the stairs to the office.
 But he carried a sweet thought warm against his heart. Part of
the duty of his first trick would be to guard Betty Heywood from
harm, as the train which bore her sped eastward through the night.
And here this tale must end. Perhaps, some day, the story will be
told of how Allan West fulfilled the duties of his new position; of the
trials he underwent and the triumphs he achieved; of how he made
new friends, yes, and new enemies, as every man must who plays a
man’s part in the world; and of how, finally, he won great happiness
in the days when the boys in cab, and caboose, and section-shanty
loved to refer to him, with shining eyes and smiling lips, as “The
young trainmaster; the best in the country—and a true friend to us!”

THE END.

Selections from
L. C. Page & Company’s
Books for Young People
 THE BLUE BONNET SERIES

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The seven volumes, boxed as a set

$ 2.00
14.00

A TEXAS BLUE BONNET

By Caroline E. Jacobs.
BLUE BONNET’S RANCH PARTY
By Caroline E. Jacobs and Edyth Ellerbeck Read.
BLUE BONNET IN BOSTON
By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards.
BLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE
By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards.
BLUE BONNET—DÉBUTANTE
By Lela Horn Richards.
BLUE BONNET OF THE SEVEN STARS
By Lela Horn Richards.
BLUE BONNET’S FAMILY
By Lela Horn Richards.
“Blue Bonnet has the very finest kind of wholesome, honest,
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meets her through these books about her.”—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
“Blue Bonnet and her companions are real girls, the kind that one
would like to have in one’s home.”—New York Sun.
 THE HENRIETTA SERIES
By Lela Horn Richards

Each one volume, 12mo, illustrated $1.90

ONLY HENRIETTA
“It is an inspiring story of the unfolding of life for a young girl—a
story in which there is plenty of action to hold interest and wealth of
delicate sympathy and understanding that appeals to the hearts of
young and old.”—Pittsburgh Leader.

HENRIETTA’S INHERITANCE
“One of the most noteworthy stories for girls issued this season.
The life of Henrietta is made very real, and there is enough incident
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STORIES BY I. M. B. OF K.

Each one volume, 12mo, illustrated $1.75

THE YOUNG KNIGHT

The clash of broad-sword on buckler, the twanging of bow-strings
and the cracking of spears splintered by whirling maces resound
through this stirring tale of knightly daring-do.

THE YOUNG CAVALIERS

 “There have been many scores of books written about the
Charles Stuarts of England, but never a merrier and more pathetic
one than ’The Young Cavaliers.’”—Family Herald.

THE KING’S MINSTREL

“The interesting situations are numerous, and the spirit of the
hero is one of courage, devotion and resource.”—Columbus
Dispatch.
“It is told with spirit and action.”—Buffalo Express.
“The story will please all those who read it, and will be of
particular interest for the boys for whom it was intended. It is a tale
of devotion to an ideal of service and as such will appeal to youth.”—
Portage Register-Democrat.
“There is a lofty ideal throughout, some court intrigue, a
smattering of the decadence of the old church heads, and a readable
story.”—Middletown Press.

THE BOYS’ STORY OF THE

RAILROAD SERIES
By Burton E. Stevenson

Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, $1.75

THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND; Or, The Adventures of

Allan West.
“The whole range of section railroading is covered in the story.”—
Chicago Post.
THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER
“A vivacious account of the varied and often hazardous nature of
railroad life.”—Congregationalist.

THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER

“It is a book that can be unreservedly commended to anyone
who loves a good, wholesome, thrilling, informing yarn.”—Passaic
News.

THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; Or, Allan West’s Chum.

“The story is intensely interesting.”—Baltimore Sun.

THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY SERIES

Of Worth While Classics for Boys and Girls
Revised and Edited for the Modern Reader
 Each large 12mo, illustrated and with a poster jacket in full
color

$2.00

THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY

By W. H. Davenport Adams.
THE CHAPLET OF PEARLS
By C. M. Yonge.
ERLING THE BOLD
By R. M. Ballantyne.
WINNING HIS KNIGHTHOOD; Or, The Adventures of
Raoulf de Gyssage.
By H. Turing Bruce.
“Tales which ring to the clanking of armour, tales of marches and
counter-marches, tales of wars, but tales which bring peace; a peace
and contentment in the knowledge that right, even in the darkest
times, has survived and conquered.”—Portland Evening Express.

BARBARA WINTHROP SERIES

By Helen Katherine Broughall
 Each one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated $2.00

BARBARA WINTHROP AT BOARDING SCHOOL

BARBARA WINTHROP AT CAMP
BARBARA WINTHROP: GRADUATE
BARBARA WINTHROP ABROAD
“Full of adventure—initiations, joys, picnics, parties, tragedies,
vacation and all. Just what girls like, books in which ’dreams come
true,’ entertaining ’gossipy’ books overflowing with conversation.”—
Salt Lake City Deseret News.
“High ideals and a real spirit of fun underlie the stories. They will
be a decided addition to the book-shelves of the young girl for whom
a holiday gift is contemplated.”—Los Angeles Saturday Night.

DOCTOR’S LITTLE GIRL SERIES

By Marion Ames Taggart

Each large 12mo, cloth, illustrated, per volume, $1.75

THE DOCTOR’S LITTLE GIRL

“A charming story of the ups and downs of the life of a dear little
maid.”—The Churchman.

SWEET NANCY: The Further Adventures of the Doctor’s

Little Girl.
“Just the sort of book to amuse, while its influence cannot but be
elevating.”—New York Sun.
NANCY, THE DOCTOR’S LITTLE PARTNER
“The story is sweet and fascinating, such as many girls of
wholesome tastes will enjoy.”—Springfield Union.

NANCY PORTER’S OPPORTUNITY

“Nancy shows throughout that she is a splendid young woman,
with plenty of pluck.”—Boston Globe.

NANCY AND THE COGGS TWINS

“The story is refreshing.”—New York Sun.

THE PEGGY RAYMOND SERIES

By Harriet Lummis Smith

Each one volume, cloth, decorative, 12mo, illustrated, per

volume

$1.75

PEGGY RAYMOND’S SUCCESS; Or, The Girls of

Friendly Terrace.
“It is a book that cheers, that inspires to higher thinking; it knits
hearts; it unfolds neighborhood plans in a way that makes one tingle
to try carrying them out, and most of all it proves that in daily life,
threads of wonderful issues are being woven in with what appears
the most ordinary of material, but which in the end brings results
stranger than the most thrilling fiction.”—Belle Kellogg Towne in The
Young People’s Weekly, Chicago.