Our readers will also remember how two evil-minded members of the then fourth class plotted to increase Damn's disgrace and to drive him out of the brigade; also how these two plotters, Midshipmen Henkel and Brimmer, were caught in their plotting and were themselves forced out of the brigade.

For works claimed by James B. Hendryx, Jr. SEE Hendryx, James B. HENKEL, TED.

He also said that when he saw any particularly miserable bit of human wreckage, white or brown, adrift on the languid tides of life about the jetty, he always said without further inquiry, "It's Henkel's house you're looking for.

Henkel was a large, soft, yellowish man.

Henkel had thick hands with bent fingers, and large, brown eyes.

The only things for which Henkel ever paid a fair price were butterflies.

They were the cases full of Henkel's butterflies.

"The Indian limped out and Henkel came in.

But Henkel would show me his butterflies.

Henkel was mad on the subject of his butterflies.

And then, to cap the wonder, the two came up to me with their friendly, confident young faces, and asked for Henkel's house.

Yes, Henkel had got hold of him through Meyer.

Henkel was to bear all costs, to supply food, ammunition, trade-goods, etc., and pay them according to the number of the new specimens that they found.

I said yes; afterward it struck me as curious that he should not have counted Henkel as a white man.

But little Daurillac swept off his hat and stood half turned for a minute; the sun splashed on his dark head, on his Frenchified belt and puttees, on his white breeches, and on an outrageous pink shirt Henkel seemed to have supplied him with.

But when a light flared up in one of the rooms it showed no more than Scott talking with Henkel.

Henkel sat at a table, wagging his head backward and forward; Scott was sitting opposite him.

"Henkel was saying, 'Dear me, dear me, but why should this have happened?'

And Scott answered as he had answered me, in that strange, patient voice: "'The clocks wouldn't tick.' "'But they were good clocks,' cried Henkel.

"'I do not understand,' said Henkel, blinking his heavy brown eyes.

"'Still I do not understand,' said Henkel, smoothly, and blinked in the lamplight.

It is a pity the clocks wouldn't tick, Mister Henkel.' "'Ya, ya,' said Henkel, leaning over the table, 'but the butterfly?

It is a pity the clocks wouldn't tick, Mister Henkel.' "'Ya, ya,' said Henkel, leaning over the table, 'but the butterfly?

Henkel sat staring at it, one big yellowish hand curved on either side of it, too happy to speak.

We saw Henkel's face turn to yellow wax, and he tried to stand up, but he was too stout to lift himself quickly.