those　also　who　may　have　temporary　ailments　or　accidents；　or　who
  may　make　the　mistake　of　over…eating　at　the　start。　There　were　many
  fine　birds　in　that　flight；　broad…breasted；　bright…eyed；
  long…winged　creatures；　formed　for　swiftest　flight；　for　high
  unconscious　emprise；　for　these　were　destined　to　be　messengers　in
  the　service　of　man　in　times　of　serious　need。　Their　colors　were
  mostly　white；　blue；　or　brown。　They　wore　no　uniform；　but　each　and
  all　of　the　chosen　remnant　had　the　brilliant　eye　and　the　bulging
  ears　of　the　finest　Homer　blood；　and；　best　and　choicest　of　all；
  nearly　always　first　among　them　was　little　Arnaux。　He　had　not　much
  to　distinguish　him　when　at　rest；　for　now　all　of　the　band　had　the
  silver　anklet；　but　in　the　air　it　was　that　Arnaux　showed　his　make；
  and　when　the　opening　of　the　hamper　gave　the　order　〃Start；〃　it　was
  Arnaux　that　first　got　under　way；　soared　to　the　height　deemed
  needful　to　exclude　all　local　influence；　divined　the　road　to　home；
  and　took　it；　pausing　not　for　food；　drink；　or　company。
  Notwithstanding　Billy's　evil　forecasts；　the　Big　Blue　of　the
  Corner…box　was　one　of　the　chosen　twenty。　Often　he　was　late　in
  returning；　he　never　was　first；　and　sometimes　when　he　came　back
  hours　behind　the　rest；　it　was　plain　that　he　was　neither　hungry
  nor　thirsty；　sure　signs　that　he　was　a　loiterer　by　the　way。　Still
  he　had　come　back；　and　now　he　wore　on　his　ankle；　like　the　rest；
  the　sacred　badge　and　a　number　from　the　roll　of　possible　fame。
  Billy　despised　him；　set　him　in　poor　contrast　with　Arnaux；　but　his
  owner　would　reply：　〃Give　him　a　chance；'soon　ripe；　soon　rotten；'
  an'　I　always　notice　the　best　bird　is　the　slowest　to　show　up　at
  first。〃
  Before　a　year　little　Arnaux　had　made　a　record。　The　hardest　of　all
  work　is　over　the　sea；　for　there　is　no　chance　of　aid　from
  landmarks；　and　the　hardest　of　all　times　at　sea　is　in　fog；　for
  then　even　the　sun　is　blotted　out　and　there　is　nothing　whatever
  for　guidance。　With　memory；　sight；　and　hearing　unavailable；　the
  Homer　has　one　thing　left；　and　herein　is　his　great　strength；　the
  inborn　sense　of　direction。　There　is　only　one　thing　that　can
  destroy　this；　and　that　is　fear；　hence　the　necessity　of　a　stout
  little　heart　between　those　noble　wings。
  Arnaux；　with　two　of　his　order；　in　course　of　training；　had　been
  shipped　on　an　ocean　steamer　bound　for　Europe。　They　were　to　be
  released　out　of　sight　of　land；　but　a　heavy　fog　set　in　and　forbade
  the　start。　The　steamer　took　them　onward；　the　intention　being　to
  send　them　back　with　the　next　vessel。　When　ten　hours　out　the
  engine　broke　down；　the　fog　settled　dense　over　the　sea；　and　the
  vessel　was　adrift　and　helpless　as　a　log。　She　could　only　whistle
  for　assistance；　and　so　far　as　results　were　concerned；　the　captain
  might　as　well　have　wigwagged。　Then　the　Pigeons　were　thought　of。
  Starback；　2592　C；　was　first　selected。　A　message　for　help　was
  written　on　waterproof　paper；　rolled　up；　and　lashed　to　his
  tail…feathers　on　the　under　side。　He　was　thrown　into　the　air　and
  disappeared。　Half　an　hour　later；　a　second；　the　Big　Blue
  Corner…box；　2600　C；　was　freighted　with　a　letter。　He　flew　up；　but
  almost　immediately　returned　and　alighted　on　the　rigging。　He　was　a
  picture　of　pigeon　fear；　nothing　could　induce　him　to　leave　the
  ship。　He　was　so　terrorized　that　he　was　easily　caught　and
  ignominiously　thrust　back　into　the　coop。
  Now　the　third　was　brought　out；　a　small；　chunky　bird。　The　shipmen
  did　not　know　him；　but　they　noted　down　from　his　anklet　his　name
  and　number；　Arnaux；　2590　C。　It　meant　nothing　to　them。　But　the
  officer　who　held　him　noted　that　his　heart　did　not　beat　so　wildly
  as　that　of　the　last　bird。　The　message　was　taken　from　the　Big
  Blue。　It　ran：
  10　A。M。；　Tuesday。
  We　broke　our　shaft　two　hundred　and　ten　miles　out　from　New　York；
  we　are　drifting　helplessly　in　the　fog。　Send　out　a　tug　as　soon　as
  possible。　We　are　whistling　one　long；　followed　at　once　by　one
  short；　every　sixty　seconds。
  （Signed）　　THE　CAPTAIN。
  This　was　rolled　up；　wrapped　in　waterproof　film；　addressed　to　the
  Steamship　Company；　and　lashed　to　the　under　side　of　Arnaux's
  middle　tail…feather。
  When　thrown　into　the　air；　he　circled　round　the　ship；　then　round
  again　higher；　then　again　higher　in　a　wider　circle；　and　he　was
  lost　to　view；　and　still　higher　till　quite　out　of　sight　and
  feeling　of　the　ship。　Shut　out　from　the　use　of　all　his　senses　now
  but　one；　he　gave　himself　up　to　that。　Strong　in　him　it　was；　and
  untrammelled　of　that　murderous　despot　Fear。　True　as　a　needle　to
  the　Pole　went　Arnaux　now；　no　hesitation；　no　doubts；　within　one
  minute　of　leaving　the　coop　he　was　speeding　straight　as　a　ray　of
  light　for　the　loft　where　he　was　born；　the　only　place　on　earth
  where　he　could　be　made　content。
  That　afternoon　Billy　was　on　duty　when　the　whistle　of　fast　wings
  was　heard；　a　blue　Flyer　flashed　into　the　loft　and　made　for　the
  water…trough。　He　was　gulping　down　mouthful　after　mouthful；　when
  Billy　gasped：　〃Why；　Arnaux；　it's　you；　you　beauty。〃　Then；　with　the
  quick　habit　of　the　pigeon…man；　he　pulled　out　his　watch　and　marked
  the　time；　2：40　P。M；　A　glance　showed　the　tie　string　on　the　tail。
  He　shut　the　door　and　dropped　the　catching…net　quickly　over
  Arnaux's　head。　A　moment　later　he　had　the　roll　in　his　hand；　in　two
  minutes　he　was　speeding　to　the　office　of　the　Company；　for　there
  was　a　fat　tip　in　view。　There　he　learned　that　Arnaux　had　made　the
  two　hundred　and　ten　miles　in　fog；　over　sea；　in　four　hours　and
  forty　minutes；　and　within　one　hour　the　needful　help　had　set　out
  for　the　unfortunate　steamer。
  Two　hundred　and　ten　miles　in　fog　over　sea　in　four　hours　and　forty
  minutes！　This　was　a　noble　record。　It　was　duly　inscribed　in　the
  rolls　of　the　Homing　Club。　Arnaux　was　held　while　the　secretary；
  with　rubber　stamp　and　indelible　ink；　printed　on　a　snowy　primary
  of　his　right　wing　the　record　of　the　feat；　with　the　date　and
  reference　number。
  Starback；　the　second　bird；　never　was　heard　of　again。　No　doubt　he
  perished　at　sea。
  Blue　Corner…box　came　back　on　the　tug。
  III
  That　was　Arnaux's　first　public　record；　but　others　came　fast；　and
  several　curious　scenes　were　enacted　in　that　old　pigeon…loft　with
  Arnaux　as　the　central　figure。　One　day　a　carriage　drove　up　to　the
  stable；　a　white…haired　gentleman　got　out；　climbed　the　dusty
  stairs；　and　sat　all　morning　in　the　loft　with　Billy。　Peering　from
  his　gold…rimmed　glasses；　first　at　a　lot　of　papers；　next　across
  the　roofs　of　the　city；　waiting；　watching；　for　what？　News　from　a
  little　place　not　forty　miles　awaynews　of　greatest　weight　to
  him；　tidings　that　would　make　or　break　him；　tidings　that　must
  reach　him　before　it　could　be　telegraphed：　a　telegram　meant　at
  least　an　hour's　delay　at　each　end。　What　was　faster　than　that　for
  forty　miles？　In　those　days　there　was　but　one　thinga　high…class
  Homer。　Money　would　count　for　nothing　if　he　could　win。　The　best；
  the　very　best　at　any　price　he　must　have；　and　Arnaux；　with　seven
  indelible　records　on　his　pinions；　was　the　chosen　messenger。　An
  hour　went　by；　another；　and　a　third　was　begun；　when　with　whistle
  of　wings；　the　blue　meteor　flashed　into　the　loft。　Billy　slammed
  the　door　and　caught　him。　Deftly　he　snipped　the　threads　and　handed
  the　roll　to　the　banker。　The　old　man　turned　deathly　pale；　fumbled
  it　open；　then　his　color　came　back。　〃Thank　God！〃　he　gasped；　and
  then　went　speeding　to　his　Board　meeting；　master　of　the　situation。
  Little　Arnaux　had　saved　him。
  The　banker　wanted　to　buy　the　Homer；　feeling　in　a　vague　way　that
  he　ought　to　honor　and　cherish　him；　but　Billy　was　very　clear　about
  it。　〃What's　the　good？　You　can't　buy　a　Homer's　heart。　You　could
  keep　him　a　prisoner；　that's　all；　but　nothing　on　earth　could　make
  him　forsake　the　old　loft　where　he　was　hatched。〃　So　Arnaux　stayed
  at　2ll　West　Nineteenth　Street。　But　the　banker　did　not　forget。
  There　is　in　our　country　a　class　of　miscreants　who　think　a　flying
  Pigeon　is　fair　game；　because　it　is　probably　far　from　home；　or
  they　shoot　him　because　it　is　hard　to　fix　the　crime。　Many　a　noble
  Homer；　speeding　with　a　life　or　death　message；　has　been　shot　down
  by　one　of　these　wretches　and　remorselessly　made　into　a　pot…pie。
  Arnaux's　brother　Arnolf；　with　three　fine　records　on　his　wings；
  was　thus　murdered　in　the　act　of　bearing　a　hasty　summons　for　the
  doctor。　As　he　fell　dying　at　the　gunner's　feet；　his　superb　wings
  spread　out　displayed　his　list　of　victories。　The　silver　badge　on
  his　leg　was　there；　and　the　gunner　was　smitten　with　remorse。　He
  had　the　message　sent　on；　he　returned　the　dead　bird　to　the　Homing
  Club；　saying　that　he　〃found　it。〃　The　owner　came　to　see　him；　the
  gunner　broke　down　under　cross…examination；　and　was　forced　to
  admit　that　he　himself　had　shot　the　Homer；　but　did　so　in　behalf　of
  a　poor　sick　neighbor　who　craved　a　pigeon…pie。
  There　were　tears　in　the　wrath　of　the　pigeon…man。　〃My　bird；　my
  beautiful　Arnolf；　twenty　times　has　he　brought　vital　messages；
  three　times　has　he　made　records；　twice　has　he　saved　human　lives；
  and　you'd　shoot　him　for　a　pot…pie。　I　could　punish　you　under　the
  law；　but　I　have　no　heart　for　such　a　poor　revenge。　I　only　ask　you
  this；　if　ever　again　you　have　a　sick　neighbor　who　wants　a
  pigeon…pie；　come；　we'll　freely　supply　him　with　pie…breed　squabs；
  but　if　you　have　a　trace　of　manhood　about　you；　you　will　never；
  never　again　shoot；　or　allow　others　to　shoot；　our　noble　and