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October 1924. . £ifl n VICTOR R-PUSSEAU PMAN Jv COPYRIGHT by W-6.CHA s4P* j \ » r 11 0 \ J: k*v*sf*s v s' Hon him. .even if she ti been minded, was useless. She was not minded. That wonh be a disloyal act toward her lover Soon she would know; and meanwhib she kept down her fears. She watchet Jenkins drive away with sinklni heart. And somehow the raornlnj passed. The hours of afternoon were leadei ones. Five o’clock came at last, wltl no cessation of the downpour, ant Joan went out and paced the rain soaked veranda endlessly, lookinj t anxiously in the direction of the sta tion, though site knew that it must h at least two liburs before she couit, hope to see Jenkins’ buggy again oi its way up the hill. Through the lowering wester) clouds the sun, emerging for a mo tnent, streaked the west with angr; crimson splashes." Lancaster must b nearly home. But It was no use wait • Ing there, where her fears grew fron f oment to inompnt, She went Inti e building, and su\? the matru standing within her door. Suddenl; she sensed the reflection of her owi f^rS In Mrs. F raser s heart; she knev the woman was doing nothing as sh stood there, was waiting, like herse.i nnd, In the same manner, hopir. against hope for the doctors safe r, turn. Impulsively Joan entered th room. She could keep silence n longer. She broke down, sobbing dis tractedly. “1 am afraid something has hap pened to the doctor,” she wept. “Now you sit down in that chali Miss Wentworth,” said Mrs. Frase kindly. “It’s been a trying day. Bu Doctor Lancaster will be home in ai hour, and there's no use becomln. anxious about him. Heavens, If w, got anxious before we had cause, what should we do?” “I know," sobbed the girl. “But I can't hear waiting. I know something has happened to him." Now, my dear, you are all worked up about him,” uhe said. He won’t come to any harm. He can’t come to harm when he went straight to his own hospital,” she added. But she spoke without conviction. Joan's hysterical mood was infecting her, increasing her own fears and forebodings. “I reckon you know, Miss Went worth, hmv much Doctor Jenkins and I feel we owe to you for taking care of the doctor," she said, seating lier ut the gItTs side. n And for get ting that man nut of the place, my dear. Man? He’s a devil—he’s the doctor’s devil, Miss Wentworth. And no harm can come to the doctor with you watching for him and praying for him." Joan'looked up at her with troubled face. 'Mrs. Fraser, I am so much at a loss," she said, 'Doctor Jenkins and you have known Doctor Lancas ter so long, and lama stranger here. I am like a child in comparison with you, so far as knowledge of Doctor Lancaster Is concerned.,, I have been fighting his physical troubles, and I do not know bis mental ones. Tligt is what puts me at a loss. How can I know that Doctor Lancaster's ene mies are not waiting for him, or have not hurt hint?” The matron placed her hand on the glri’s knee. “Why, my dear, Doctor Lancaster has no enemies,” she said. “How could such.a splendid man have enemies? Of course there are trou \bles; who hasn’t them? And It may be there’s things that Doctor Jenkins apd I don't know—I’ve thought there might be. But we’ve only been liere .three years, and that was long after the doctor’s troubles began. And of course we never listened to the vil lage grtsslp. But oh. Miss Wentworth, you can’t Imagine the sorrow in our hearts when we saw *kat splendid man giving way to Ids linfht. and let ting K creep over him little by little and gain tl^e mastery. 4 4 At first, when I came here, it was only at times that he’d take the mor phine, and then he’d hnve terrible out bursts of rage, and his mind would go, especially when tie’d have those fits after he came back from Avonmouth. But after that the hoodoo got him. That was when I was afraid." “The hoodoo?" inquired Joan. “Mlse Wentworth, the devil who was at him so long got hold of him once or twice. I’ve seen him come back from Avonmouth a different man. Miss Wentworth. That’s when I've been afraid. Recnuse the devil that can kill the body Isn’t much of a devil, but when he kills the soul therv is no help but prayer. When lie’s }a those dreadful moods he’s anottier man. He’s a wicked man. Miss Went worth, nnd I’d shoot him then, If lit tried to harm me or any of mine, and I wouldn't think I’d killed Doctor Lan caster. It all began after they accused him of stealing the trust funds. *» I “It is not true,” Mbi-IoaD. ... But you see old Doctor Lancaster didn't leave the charge of the fund to Ids son; he left it in the care of the trustees. And there were -com plications about the hospital at Avon moutli. And then, after the doctor’s bride ran away on the eve of theit marriage it changed all his nature." 1 have heard of that," said Joan quietly. ti But we must not discuss that in the doctor’s absence." ‘‘Why, everybody knows about that, Miss Wentworth. Before it happened they say the doctor was the most re spected man ill Lancaster. He’d been b 0 rn here, you know, on the planta tion down in the valley Millville way. She was a Miss Reid. She came from Farnley county. She was the reigning belle there, admired and flattered, and il turned her heart to a stone to have all the men after her, crazy to marry her. The doctor was a young man then, and he couldn’t see any further into her heart, such as It was, than The rest of them ! “She led the doctor a chase before s he promised him, they say. But the very day before their marriage was to have been she left her- home without a word to anyone, to go off with an other man who's never been dlscov e red. That broke the doctor up. He took to drugs then, they tell me. The institute had been a big place before; p stood over on Morley’s hill, but It burned down one night, and we took this old farm house. And the doctor was using the funds, they said, and wasn’t responsible at all. ! “The trustees found that the money was gone. Nobody knew where It went, because the doctor had his own Inheritance, and he wasn’t the man to steal or squander. They wouldn’t do anything to him, because of his fam ily, but they put Mr. Myers in charge of the finances. That’s all. None of us liked him, but what could we do about it? He was here when Doctor Jenkins and I were appointed, and as goon as we understood how matters were we agreed to stay as long as we could and try to help the doctor.” “Mrs. Fraser, I want to know why I Mr. Myers Inched Doctor Lancaster to use morphine, said Joan. “Miss Wentworth—” 'You know- he did. You told so. And Doctor Jenkins knows.” The matron looked agitated. “What could we do?” she cried. Suppose we knew, t wo .p^O e .....do - agaiust—a - man- like- Myers?^ St)f)pose we had said so, who would have be lieved us? We did all we could do; and we all loye'the doctor and would rather stay with him and help where we could than be discharged and do nothing.” 8he looked at Joan piteously. like a child caught in wrong-doing. “1 know you did your best,” an swered the girl. “Rut why should Doctor Lancaster .stay here In Myers' power, instead of at his home in Avonmouth, where he Is respected and powerful? Nothing of all this is known The matron wrung her hands. “I don’t know,” she answered, ‘I sup pose that man lias had him by the throat in more ways than we know. Whenever the doctor used to go to Avonmouth Mr. Myers would go with him, and generally he’d come back with him. Miss Wentworth, till you came here the doctor wasn't a man; what with his drugs and the hold Mr. Myers had over him, he was just a machine. And Mr. Myers was the driver.” John had the feeling that she should not listen to the matron’s talk about Lancaster; It seemed disloyal of her; but she felt, too, that she must know more, nnd speedily, if she was to thwart that menacing evil which she sensed more and more clearly as the ' moments passed. pluming “Miss Wentworth,”, said the matron, her hand on the girl's arm firmly, “there's something else I ought to hftve told you about. Mrs. Dana—” “Hark!” interrupted Joan, holding, up her hand for silence. Then they heard, a long distance away, and inaudible to one whose at tention was not strained, like theirs, the sound o( the wheels of Jenkins’ buggy. Chapter X Joan hurried out upon the veranda and stood peering under her raised hand across the ruin-swamped fields to where, the carriage road wound In and out among the hills. The sun had set, and It was beginning to grow dusk; a bat was flitting under the eaves, nnd the steady downpour never ceased. Mrs. Fraser, who had moved to follow the girl, went back Into her room. There was a queer, troubled pucker about her lips, and once she went to the door and looked Intently at Joan, wjio hud not stirred from her GRIFFIN DAILY NEWS position i >i «» 4 .eet artev. the Presently, looking out -through dripping trees, Joan coutd see the buggy crawling up the hill through the mud. Slowly it moved along the road. Jenkins was driving, and there were two tuen with him, not one. Joan recognised Lancaster; then she per ceivcd, first the hard hat, next Myers’ face under It. She shuddered. The worst had com£ about, then. But the last battle was Joined, and under her fears she felt a hardening of her spiritual resources. She would not falter. She went slow ly toward the top of the three low wooden steps, and stood there like a statue, watching the buggy pass up the weetf-grown drive until it came to a standstill. Lancaster and Myers were laughing together, and, as Myers saw the girl, lie said something, and the other threw back his head in merriment. * Myers was the first to descend- He raised his hat to Joan and grinned. ‘‘The doctor’s come bacft\ quite safe, you see,’’ he said, “and 'feeling \ fine again.” Joan hardly noticed the /man; she was bracing herself to beu/ what was to come. Lancaster got out, and .Tenk.tis, con trary to his custom, lushed the horse violently and drove rapidly away. Myers and Lancaster came up the steps of the porch together. Now Lan caster was raising his hat in turn, and under it was the face of the smirking bully of the operating theater at the Avonmouth hospital. “Well, I had a fine trip to Avon mouth, my dear, and I hurried back as fast as I could, to see you. I couldn't stay away from you very long, Joan, after you saved my life. And I per suaded Mr. Myers to return with me. We’re all going to be good friends, Mrs. Fraser! Mrs. Fraser! Where the devil are you?” he bawled. Mrs. Ft-aseris-frtghtened face ap at the door. “Here, sir!” she stammered. r< Ig supper ready? If so, we’ll all eat together.” “It’s waiting, sir. I’ll lay anothet place,” said the matron. - Good! Then we’il go in. What dc you say, Joan, darling? Aren’t you glad to see me?” he asked, linking his arm in the girl’s and advancing his face within a few Inches of hers. With a sob Joan tore herself away from him and ran upstairs at the top of her speed.. She was choking wltl grief and shame. Hard as she ran she knew her -flight was an incentive to Lancaster to follow her. He went ofter her as fast as he could, and, as she slammed the door of her room his hand was on the knob outside. She was just too late to turn the key. ■ Joan! Joan! Open the door ant dqn’t act like a little fool!” he shout ed. What’s the matter with you! Ain't you glad I’ve come back? Say I’ve got a half dozen bottles of th* fizzy stuff In my bag, and we tbrei will make a night of it. ■ “Oh, won’t you please leave me?’ pleaded Joan. “Try to remember how —how different you were yesterday.' “That’s true!” he swore. “I’m dtf ferent now. I was a sanctimonious mug yesterday. I’m In my right mint today. It gave me the blue creeps being cooped up here in this God forsaken place. I tell you, Joan, now that I’ve hnd enough goo d liquor u soak that morp hine, out of my systeu I’m feeling like a king. Say, now come dnw-n to supper, like a good lit tie girl, and we’ll have a great thus together. Myers doesn’t bear any III feeling. And we’ll put him out afte: a while nnd finish up the bottles our Selves. And say— He was advancing toward her with his arms outstretched. Joan sprung back to the washstand and snatched up the half-filled pitcher, with such an evident determination to defend her self with it that the man fell back scowling. “Joan, don’t be a little Jackass!” he shouted angrily, I know what you mean when you look at me like that. You think you’re above being jolly and sociable, just because I don’t choose to stand on my dignity tonight. Did you expect me to go about al ways looking like a sanctified mummy, as I did when I was ill?" “Listen, Doctor Lancaster,” panted the girl. “I am not going to judge you by what you are saying now. Leave me, and tomorrow, if you are yourself, I shall be willing to hear your explan ation, because I know It Is not your better self that is speaking. Leave my room now, please, Immediately!” The man glared at her; but he was dominated, in spite of himself, by her ^durage and apparent calmness. “Well, I’m not going to fight with you before I've had my supper,” he answered. You tiYnk things over, and in a little while I guess you'll see them in a different light. You can't fool me with those mock airs and graces, dearie. I’ve seen them in women before. Used to believe in them once, too, till I found it meant that it was going to cost me more in the end. Yon come down and act straight, Joan—see?” He slammed the door viciously be hind him. Joan fell upon her knees jbeside her bed. There, tearless, but ‘Shaken wifh her grief, she poured out |a wild This prayer for the lost than soul of the man. was worse anything she eould have divined. Better by far that lie had returned as on that earlier day, drugged und possessed by the morphine spirit than in the chains of this devil. Better that he had died. For Uncaster., even when the shifty, falser lying drug fiend was In control of him. had never been vicious and vile like this before. j And yet this was the John Uncas ter of the Southern hospital. It was the traditional Uncaster in his hour .of relaxation, lie treated women ananiefuMy, as n gossiping nurse had said. Joan Imd never been In tear of physk-arltarm as she was now. She rose from her knees, looking wildly about her. Then she heard footsteps outside, end she sprang back across the room. • j Rut it was only the matron. Mrs. Fraser cast a scared glance at her and ran forward. “What did he say to you?” she cried, “I am afraid of him. l‘ dare not stay here, Where shall l goY-wird tjoan, losing all self-control, in the midst of her terror Joan sud denly realized that the look upon the matron’s face was the same as on her first night, when they had held a brief conversation in the same room. For n moment Mrs, Fraser did not answer her. The \v. men drew togeth er, listening. They were having sup per !»elmv, conversing in boisterous tones and lattgliing loudly. Joan lieard her own name spoken, and a renewed outburst of mirth followed. “Mrs. Fraser,” said Joan, "the Doc tor Lancaster whom I. respect and honor Is not in \thnt man’s body; 1 am going away. \ aiii going at once. I shall ask Doctor Jenkins to protect me until tomorrow. Me Is n gentle tuan; he will do so.” __ I “You can't go through this storm,” 'exclaimed the other, and. ns she spoke, iJoan realized that the wind had risen - to hurricane, and the houghs a creaked and snapped like pistol shots. j“Yon with must and stay i’ll Were tonight. he shall . Stay not me, swear hurt you. Look at this!” She pulled a revolver from beneath 'her apron and handed It to Joan. I've kept that ever since the last time he came back like this, when he ; went raving the patients, among mad with liquor. That was the end of the iinstitution. He frightened a sick girl (almost to death. Use It on him If you 'must—use It, because It won't be him J^nrtr idm. n Uinp hrit The devil that's got OV-- .•e was almost incoherent with feat* and excitement. Joan took the re vOlver and slipped It into the pocket of her uniform. Oddly enough, she ’felt that the Lancaster of that eve ning 'caster had so grossly wronged the Lun of earlier days that to kill him iyiuld be to avenge an intolerable out rage. She of hated which him with heart all the intensity her was capable, hated him for the wrong he ■had done himself, the outrage on their ilove; and under the hate the flume of the love she had home burned pure 'nnd clear. ’ It was long since dark, but the maid had not lit the lamp outside Mrs. ^Dana’s door, near the head of the jstalrs. *The The crept moon cautiously had not yet along risen. the women hall. I Lancaster and the secretary were in Myers' room. The door was open. Joan heard a cork fly with a bang, and the gurgle of the champagne in glasses. Their voices were raised t high, and there came the sound of a scuffle. • ' “Sit down 1” the secretary was cry ,ing. “Do you want to be n fool nnd spoil everything.' Leave her alone unt 1 tomorrow. - “I’m d—d If I do!” cried Lancaster. “Wait a minute! Listen to me! jYou agreed to come hack here and put iher I out. Why don’t you do It now?” fbause Lancaster laughed coarsely, “Be she’s too <f— n pretty, Myers,” !he answered. “It’s the drink In you. She Isn’t better-looking than any average wom an In Avonmouth. See here, are you going to bust up the game or are you not?” Til show you!” shouted Lancaster, JTTi MPji H -jm 1 r S » j ■Em n ml 'a fW 'A 1 Dm! I I <||P' ,4 ! ! 1 i Ji* He Seized the Matron by the Shoulders and Pushed Her Back Into Her Room. breaking from Myers’ grasp and rush ing from the room. He met the women at the foot of the stairs. His face was flushed, Ids hair disordered, ids manner maniacal. “You sneak, what are you hutting into this show for?” he demanded of | Mrs. Fraser. J | The matron, cowed by his violence, trembled. She tried to pull Joan to ward her room; jin a caught her eye and made the slightest gesture indica tive of shooting, Lancaster raised his first threateningly. The matron did not lift a finger to i . 1 **" . 1 , . She '^ lte calro | I 1 ' * to ?" th * «P*ried blow; per I , ‘ a “* « 8 ® nae atav ' 8t,c traU In ' herltc d tbrou f *««at on. of poor “ C ** t , f* = “ d • ltkou « h lt *>~n, th* look on the worn an’s fac* wan almost twolcsL The wMMttbllik \ (To JSe Continued./ Hall Where iidge Spoke IM . * \ 2 iiL - 'mw. I ■ pp . . 5p- ! ’ s mm ii ■ft £1 mm ■ urn■ mbs In 1 mt V ft rS it i ! ! i '•'U > j II' % i ■ m [ Mfe: ■SlU ■■ %•« R i •MS v New photogruph of Carpenters’ hall, In Philadelphia, in which 1’resldent Coolidge spoke on September 26, the one hundred anti fiftieth anniversary of the first Continental congress and th# two hundredth anniversary of the found ing of the Carpenters' company. In this hail the first congress met. Some of (By J. A. Darsey) “At a regular meeting of Pythag Chapter, No, 10, R. A. M. December 13, 1883, the officers were elected: M. H. P., H. C. Burr; E. S., N. B. C. H., C. S. Burr; P. S., I. third veil, W.. H. Powell; veiI> j. L . Moore; first veil, ’, A . ’ Xlr Warren - . , _ M m ’ J t ’ Pa ^‘ secretary, J. F. Stilwell; senti » C. B. Smith. << Mr. Charles H. Westbrook and Miss Blanche Drewry, daughter of Hon. N. B. Drewry, were married Thursday evening, December 20, 1883. Joy go with them. The fol lowing is a list of presents they re ceived: card case, Miss M. E. Port er; butter dish, Misses Westbrook; bronze Vase, H. M. Amos; flower stand, Mrs. E. M. Drewry; castor, C. Burr; forks, T. E. Drewry; table spoons, Mrs. N. B. Drewry; tea spoons, master Joe Drewry; sil ver gp oons, Frank R. Jones; plush m ; rrorj j_ Deane; napkin rings, Miss Maggie Johnson; flower stands, Mrs. G. R. McCall; pickle stand, J. T. Stephenson; butter dish, J.P. Nich ols; butter knife, Minor Carpenter; amber vase, Miss Laura Brown; berry spoons, Mrs. Nelms; set nap kin rings, H. H. Bass; house and lot, N. B. Drewry; napkin rings, Miss Fannie McDowell; case silver spoons, A. Y. A. R.; flower vase, Miss Lula Richardson. •* At an election held in Tuesday December 18, 1883, the follow were elected officers of Meridian lodge: W. M., J. Lowenstein; S. C. H. Westbrook; J. W., J. P. treasurer M. J. Patrick; ty C. B. Smith; S. D., H. C. Burr; D., S. L. Wooten. »> tl Henry Rape, an old citizen of this place, was stricken with paralysis and is now confined to his home in South Griffin. >> (Dec. 23, 1883.) (4 Mrs. W. M. Smith, of Sunny Side, has a washtub that has been in use 26 years and .is- in good condition yet. She also has a loom that has The Obscure art d Faithful What we call illusions are often, in truth, a wider vision of past and pics ent realities— a willing movement of a man’s soul with the larger sweep of the 1 * world's forces-—a movement to ward a more assured end than the chances of a single life. We see hu man heroism broken Into units and say this unit did little—might as well not have been. But in this way we might break - up a great army into Units; in tills way we might break the sunlight Into fragments, and think ttiat this and the other might be cheaply parted with it. Let us, rather, raise a monument to the soldiers whose brave hearts only kept the ranks unbroken, and met death—a monument to the faithful who were not famous, and who are precious as the continuity of the sunbeams Is pre cious, though’ some of them fall un seen and on barrenness.—George Eliot. Leverage “Can any one tell me." Inquired th* professor, “what was said by the Greek philosopher Archimedes.?” “Sir," said the siwirtsmnn In plus fonra, "what the old gent said, in the ver nacular of ihe day. was ‘Give roe a stance and I’ll hole out in one,’”— London Dallv Express. Truth About Riches niches are not an end of life, • instrument of life.—Henry e< h< r. PAGE SI running 44 years and a spin wheel 40 years old, both of are still in use. She also has chair, over one hundred year* old not a round broken. ft (Looms j spinning wheels have been rele ; ,ted to the past and would now ba of curiosity I doubt if nv y of the - VOU ng and rising gen- a have ever seop one of these band looms and spinning wheels, writer clearly remembers seeing in operation and to have heard sweet hum of industry as she her own thread to ^ i ate r wo into c ) ot h from which garment). f or the family were to be made. Nov it is aU done by machinery and th • c j oth ma de ready for garments b< f ore reac hing the hands of the far Those days were good old d»: an( ] j on g to be remembered.) “William Mickelberry King, fa miliarly known as “Mick,” a pet ter rier of Mr. J. C. King, met a trag ic death at the hands of an assassin on Tuesday evening, December 18, 1883. C. King, he had a little dog, His hair was black and tan, Tnd everywhere that King did go, The dog was close at hand. Poor Mick is dead, that good old dog. We ne’er shall see him more, He wore his tail cut short behind, His lips turned up before. is dead! Alas the That cost thy life, my pet, O’er rats and mice you held sway, And killed them all, you bet. Poor Mick is—gone! No true friend Man ever knew before. The first to welcome and defend, He’s gone forever more. ' A fKiend. t* “On January 2, 1884, John I. Hall, Jas. S. Boynton, E. W. Beck, F. D. Dismuke, S. C. McDaniel, W. C. Beeks, Jno. J. Hunt, Chas, R. John son, Robt. T. Daniel, T. R. Mills, Noah M. Collins, C. R. Judkins, Frank Flynt, Lloyd Cleveland, E. W. and Thos. W. Thurman filed a petition to the superior court to be incorporated as the Griffin Bar Association, with a capital stock 0 f ^ 000 00 M These men constituted the Bar of Griffin at this time, and a mere glance at the names of the men constituting it is sufficient to satisfy a man that they were • practically all high class, outstanding men of their clay and generation. Judge John D. Stewart, who was judge of the superior court at the time, and an able lawyer, also lived here. Out of this number of men, four served on the superior court bench, Hall, * Boynton, Stewart and Daniel. One wga at one time a member of con gress, E. W. Beck. One was at one time governor of Georgia, James S. Boynton. Hammond, Dismuke and Hunt served the county as ordinary. Practically all of the others have at some time filled county or city posi tions of trust and honor. - Marshal Manley has made a good officer so far." "Mr. Frank Staabler and family, of St. Petersburg, Va., have moved into the E. W. Rhodes dwelling and will make Griffin their home.” Sixty-six kinds of birds in the southeastern states feed on the boll-" weevil.