man _did_ manage to read it, though,
naturally, he thought nothing of its contents. Then Franz took the real
telegram to the clerk at the Observatory, who dispatched it carefully,
though he chaffed Franz a good deal about the enormous importance of a
message that required to be sent so secretly.

When he rejoined his companions by the lake, just in time for the
afternoon meal, he was well teased by them because he was the only boy
who had no important find to announce. Then followed a merry walk back
through the woods, then supper, and then bed, and through it all Franz
never had a chance of a private talk with Herr Groos.

The next morning the boys were still at breakfast when the early morning
train came creaking into the station, and the first person to come
towards the inn was Baron Rosenthal.

He shook Franz warmly by the hand. 'Thanks to you, my boy,' he said,
'the thieves are in prison. It only remains for you to show us where the
rest of the silver is hidden.'

The other boys gazed at Franz in surprise, but he was not long in
telling the whole story, and explaining how it was that he had been the
only boy who had had no time to collect specimens. Half an hour later
the whole party started for the Kuehberg, with Franz to guide them.

[Illustration: "'It was fortunate that we put them off the scent.'"]

Afterwards, when the winter came, and the boys of the class discussed
the great summer excursion, they always agreed that the most exciting
part of it had been the digging for Baron Rosenthal's treasures under
the pine tree. Not a few of them also, though without success, tried to
invent a cypher that should rival the famous one which had proved of
such real and unexpected value.

A. KATHARINE PARKES.

[Illustration: The Great Northern Diver.]

THE GREAT NORTHERN DIVER.

Amongst our water-loving birds there are few that can rival the great
Northern Diver. He is strong of wing, with remarkable legs and feet, and
a body so formed that it can take in a wonderful amount of air. He is a
beautiful bird, too, and a glance at him gives you the impression that
he is very knowing--as is, indeed, the fact. He has not a tuneful voice,
for he does not belong to the singing birds, but he utters a plaintive
and wild cry, which seems to suit the regions that are usually his home.
For, though the species does not keep entirely to the cold northern
regions, where summer is brief and winter is long, they are his c