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Tuesday, November 18, 1924. , THE EVIL k .SHEPHERD I p l!k ( E.Phillips Oppenheim j ■58 3 a. /tfo. Ji l 1 ** TTI.i Ulawtrvtton* .t, ..t;,., r 1 m*|T IfWUlMvCf/ ^ V * shore. “I suppose that under the circum stances,” Francis said, "he was pre pared to take his risk.” "You should know best about that,” Sir Timothy rejoined, i wonder whether you would mind looking after Lady Cynthia? I shall be busy for a few moments.” Francis stepped across the deck towards where Lady Cynthia had been sitting by her host's side. They had passed into the mouth of a tree hung strip of the riter. The en gine was suddenly shut off. A gong was sounded. There was a mur mur, almost a sob of relief, as the little sprinkling of men and women rose hastily to their feet and made their way towards the companion way. Bownstairs, in the saloon, with its white satinvvood panels and rows of swing chairs, heavy qurtains were drawn across the portholes, all out side light was shut out from the place. At the further end, raised slightly from the floor, was a sanded circle. Sir Timothy made his way to one of the pillars by its side and turned around to face the little company of guests. His voice, though it seemed scarcely raised nbove a whisper, was extraor dinarily clear and distinct. Even Francis, who, with Lady Cynthia, had found seats only Just inside the door, could hear every word he said. “My friends," he began, “you have often before been my guests at sucli small fights as we have been able to arrange in as unorthodox manner as possible between profes sional boxers. There has been some novelty about them, but on the last occasion I think it was generally observed that they had become little too professional, n little ultra scientific. There was something which they lacked. With that some thing I am hoping to provide you tonight. Thank you, Sir Edgar,” he murmured, leaning down toward his neighbor. He held his cigarette in the flame of a match which the other had kindled. Francis, who was watch ing, was puzzled at the expression with which for a moment, as he straightened hlntself, Sir Timothy glanced down the room, seeking for Lady Cynthia's eyes. In a sense it was as though he were seeking for something he needed—-approbation, sympathy, understanding. “Our hobby, as you know, has been reality,” he continued. “That is what we have not always been able to achieve. Tonight I offer you reality. There are two men here, one an East end coster, the other an Italian until lately associated with an itinerant vehicle of musical pro duction. These two men have not outlived sensation as I fancy so many of us have. They hate one an ■other to the death. I forget their surnames, but Giuseppe lias stolen Jim's girl, is living with her at the present moment, and proposes to keep her. Jim has sworn to have the lives of both of them. Jim’s career, in its way, is Interesting to us. He has spent already six years in prison for manslaughter, and a year for a brutal assault upon a constable. Giuseppe was tried in his native country for a particu larly fiendish murder, and escaped, owing, I believe, to some legal tech nicality. That, however, has nothing to do with the matter. These men have sworn to fight to the death, and the girl, I understand, is willing to return to Jim if he should be successful, or to remain with Giu seppe if he should show himself able to retain her. The fight be tween these men, my friends, has been transferred from Seven Blais for your entertainment. It will take place before you here and now' There was a little shiver amongst the audience. Francis, al most to his horror, was unable to resist the feeling of queer excite ment which stole through his veins. A few yards away. Lady Isabel seemed to have become trans formed. She leaned forward in her chair, her eyes glowing, her lips parted, rejuvenated, dehumanize^ Francis’ Immediate companion, however, surprised him. Her eyes were fixed intently upon Sir Timo thy’s. She seemed to have been weighing every word he had spoken. There was none of that hungry pleasure In her face which -ahone from the other woman's, ami ,was reflected in the faces of many of the others. She seemed to be bracing herself for a shock. Sir Timothy looked toward the door .which opened upon the sanded space. “You can bring your men along," (he directed. ■Qne of the attendants promptly made his appearance. He was hold ing'tiddly by the arm a man of ap parently thirty years of age, shab bily dressed, barefooted, without collar or necktie, with a mass of black (hair which looked as though it h»4 escaped the care of any barber lor many weeks. His com plexion was sallow; he had high cheekbones and a receding chin, which gave him rather the appear ance of a fox. He shrank ,a little from the fights as though they hurt his eyes, and all the time he looked furtively hack to the door through which in a moment or two his rival was presently escorted. The latter was a young man of stockier build, iil-conditloned, and with the brutal face of the lowest of Ids class. Two of his front teeth were missing, and there was a livid mark on the side of his cheek. He looked neither to the right nor to the left. His eyea were fixed upon the other man. and they looked death. “The gentleman who first ap pea rsd," Sir Timothy Observed. stepping up into the sanoea space but still half facing the audience, “Is Giuseppe, the Lothario of this little act. The other is .Tim, the wronged husband. You know their story. Now, Jim,” he added, turn ing toward the Englishman, “I put in your trousers pocket those notes, two hundred pounds, you will perceive. I place in the trousers pocket of Giuseppe here notes to the same amount, I understand you have a little quarrel to fight out. The one who wins will natu rally help himself to the other’s money, together with that other little reward which I Imagine was the first cause of your quarrel. Now ... let them go.” Sir Timothy resumed his seat and leaned back in leisurely fashion. The two attendants solemnly re leased their captives. There was a moment’s inten^p silence, The two men seemed fencing for po sitions. There was something stealthy and horrible about their movements as they crept around one another. Francis realized what it was almost ns the little sobbing breath from those of the audience who still retained any emotion, showed him that they, too, foresaw what was going to happen. Both men had drawn knives from their belts. It was murder which had been let loose. Francis found hiutself almost im mediately upon hit ,'eet. His whole being seemed to be crying out for interference. Lady Cynthia’s death white face and« pleading eyes seemed like the echo of his own passionate aversion to what was taking place. Then he met Sir Tim othy’s gaze across the room and he remembered his promise. Un der no conditions was he to protest or interfere. He set his teeth and resumed .ills heat. The fight was on. There were little sobs and tremors of excitement, strange banks of silence. Both men seemed out of condition. The sound of their hoarse breathing was easily heard against the curtain of spell bound silence. For a time their knives stabbed the empty air, but from tiie first the end seemed cer tain. The Englishman attacked wildly. His adversary waited his time, content with avoiding the murderous blows struck at him, striving all the time to steal under neath the other’s guard, And then, almost without warning, it was all over. Jim was on his hack in a crumpled heap. There was a horrid stain upon his coat. The other man was kneeling by his side, hate, glaring out of his eyes, guld ing all the time the rising and fall ing of his knife. There was one more shriek—then silence—only the sound of the victor’s breathing an he rose slowly from his ghastly task. Sir Timothy rose to his feet and waved his hand. The curtain went down. “On deck, if you please, ladiea and gentleman,” he said calmly. No one stirred. A woman began to sob. A fat, unhealthy-looking man in front of Francis reeled over In a dead faint. Two other of the guests near had risen from their seats and were shouting aimlessly like lunatics. Even Francis was Conscious of that temporary impris onment of the body due to bis lac erated nerves. Only the clinging of Lady Cynthia to his arm kept hlna from rushing from the spot. “You are faint?" lie whispered hoarsely. “Upstairs—air.” she faltered. They rose to their feet. The sound of Sir Timothy’s voice i v % For a Time Their Knives Stabbed the 'Empty Air, but From the First the End Seemed Certain. reached Ahem ns they ascended the stair*. “On deck, everyone, if you please," lie insisted. “Refresh ments are being served there. There are Inquisitive people who watcli my launch, and It I* inadvis able to remain here long,” People hurried out then as though their one desire was to es cape from the scene of the tragedy. Lady Cynthia, still clinging to Francla’ arm, led him to the further most corner of the launch. There were real tears in her eyes, her breath was coming In little sobs. "Oh, It was horrible I” she cried. it Horrible! Mr. Ledsam—I can’t BRM‘EAILY NEWS it I never want to speak to Tuootny again r* One final horror arrested for a the sound of voices' There n dull splash In the river. had been thrown over The orchestra began to play music. Conversation sudden shaking like an espen lea*, was drinking champagne out of the hot Everyone seemed to be trying to outvie the other in loud conver in outrageous mirth. Lady with a glass of champagne in her hand, leaned back toward Francis. “Well,” she asked, “bow are you feeling, Mr. Ledsam?” “As though I had spent half an hour in h—1,” he answered. She screamed with laughter. "Hear this man," she called out, “who will send any poor ru gamut fin to the gallows if his fee is large enough! Of course,” she added, turning back to him, “I ought tb re member you are a normal person, and tonight's entertainment was not for normal persons. For my self I am grateful to Sir TJnjpthy. For a few moments of this aching aftermath of life, 1 forgot,” Suddenly all the lights around the launch flamed out, the music stopped. Sir Timothy came up on deck. On either side of him was a man in ordinary dinner clothes. The babel of voices ceased. Everyone was oppressed by some vague like ness. A breathless silence ensued. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Sir Thn othy said, and once more the smile upon his lips assumed its most mocking curve, “let me introduce you to the two artists who have given us tonight such a realistic performance, Signor Giuseppe Elito and Signor Carlos Mariini. I had the good fortune,” he went on, “to witness this very marvelous performance in a small music hall in Palermo, and I was able to in duce the two actors to pay us a visit over here. Steward, these gentlemen will take a glass of cham pagne. l The two Sicilians raised their glasses and bowed expectantly to the little company. They received, however, a much greater tribute to their .performance than the ap plause which they had been expect ing. There reigned everywhere a deadly, stupefied silence. Only a half-stifled sob, btoke from Lady Cynthia’s lips as she leaned over the rail, her face buried in her hands, her whole frame shaking. CHAFTER XX F ItANCIS and Margaret sat In the rose garden on the following morning. Their conversation was a little disjointed, as the conversa tion of lovers in n seel tided and beautiful spot slioulfl be, but they came back often to the subject of Sir Timothy. “If I have misunderstood your father,” Francis declared, “and I admit that I have, it has been to some extent his own fault. To me he was always the deliberate scoffer against any code of morals, a rebel against the law even if not a criminal in actual deeds. I hon . believed ... .that , the , Walled _ . House was the scene of dlsrep ! l e orgies, that your father was behind i‘ air fax in that cold-blooded n^rder, and that he was responsi- 80I ' J0 sinister way for the disappearance of Iteggie Wilrnore. yjost of these things seem to have been slmma, like the fight last night. She moved uneasily in her place. “I am glad I did not see that,” she said, with a shiver. “I think," he went on, “that the reason why your father insisted upon Lady Cynthia’s and my pres ence there was that he meant it as a sort ©f allegory. Half the vices in life he claims are unreal.” Margaret passed her arm through his and leaned a little toward him. 41 St you knew just one tiling I have never told you." stie confided, “I think that you would feel sorry for him. I do, imore and more every day, because in a way that ■one thing is my .fault. •• Notwithstanding rthe warm sun shine, she suddenly shivered. Fran cis took her hands in his. Thej; were cold and lifeless. “I know that one thing, dear,” he told her quietly. She looked at him stonily. There was a questioning fear in her eyes. “Ton know—” “I know that your father killed Oliver HfKfitch.” Site suddenly brake out into a strewn of words. There was passion In her tone and in her eyes. She was almost the aecw«r. “My father was right, then !” she exclaimed. “He told roe this morn ing that he believed that it was to you or to your friend at Scotland Yard that Waiter had told his story. But you didn’t know—you don't know how terrible the temptation was—how—you see I say it quite coolly—how ©liver HI hi itch de served to die. He was trusted by my father in South America a»rt ;he deceived him, he forged the letters which induced tne to marry him. It was part of his scheme of revenge. This was the first time we had any .of us met since. I told my father the truth that afternoon. He knew for the first time how my marriage came about. My husband had prayed me to keep silent. I re fused. Then he became like a devil. We were there, we three, that night after you left, and Francis, as I live, if my father had not killed him, I should have!" “There was a time when I be 'lieved that you had," he reminded her. “1 didn't behave like a peda gogic upholder of the letter of the law then, did I?” She drew closer to him. • • You were wonderful,” she whis pered. “Dearest, your father has noth ing to fear from me." he assured her tenderly. “On the contrary, I think that I can show him the way to safety." She rose impulsively tn her feet. “He will be here directly," she said. “He promised to come across at hnlf-past twelve. Let us go and meet him. But, Francis— For a single moment she crept in to his arm*. Their lip* met, her •yes shone into hi*. He held her sway from him a moment Inter. The (To bo continued) Our Daily Story 1 Her Dining-Room Experience By CLARISSA MACKIE Alice Glyndon slowly crossed the campus toward Barry hall, where she had lived during her college life. Barry hall was occupied by girls who came from well-to-do families. Alice had belonged to this set for three years of her stay at Borland, and now at the close of her junior year she was confronted with a dreadful problem. The last year had been a bitter one for the Glyndons. Alice’s father had lost everything except the fine old home, and was straining to rebuild his fal len fortunes; Sam, the ouly sen, was valiantly carrying on the ex penses of the Glyndon home, and Mrs. Glyndon had just written to her daughter what Alice's siiure of the burden would he. . . And if you return to Borland In September yon will have to provide the funds out of your own earnings. It hurts me to write this, dear, but I know you will not add another straw to the burden your father is carrying. I remember when we were at Mountain Crest one year there were a number of charming college girls, and boys, to# waiting on the tables . . . you will have little.......jyirl, to put your pride in your pocket, and I am sure the Glyndons Will be proud of you if you win . your own way through. . . »* .* Wait on table during vacation!” The preposterous thought took pos session of Alice and made her wretched during those last days of her junior year. Back of the Glyn don pride was another reason why she shrank from working during the summer vacation—the reason Was Bruce Harden, who she felt sure would not npprove of It. Bruce was at Yale and working for his degree next year. She had hoped that he would spend a part of his vacation at some resort where the Glyndons would be—and—Bruce was growing to fill a great deal of Alice’s thoughts these days. They corre sponded and she feit sure that Bruce—some day—then she blushed hotly and hurried into Barry halt What would Bruce think of her working in a hotel dining room? She never confided in him this last problem and finally she stopped This was her last sacri- to the Glyndon pride. She even opened the last letters came from him—she put them In her trunk. Then one June day she went to vocational bureau—and the first July she became one of twenty five college girls who were employed In the Glacier hotel. July slipped away, and with August came the opening of the new annex, where dining room was to have a corps of college student-waiters. “They are to be men, my dear,” said Betty Smith, who occupied a tiny room with, Alice. “I know one of them, Jimmie Tane. I am hoping to see a little bit of fun noW and then. *» That was the day Alice Glyndon put her pride in her pocket and buttoned it tightly. Becailse she knew what perfect service meant, she was able to render it, and when she, received her first pay envelope she cried with the joy of working. Then, orie glorious evening in August, when she sat on the shore of the lake, enjoying the cool breeze that made her white wool skirt and orange sweater acceptable, she heard Bruce’s voice—he was ask ing a question—and some one was directing him; she wondered what a guest of the hotel was doing in this section, which was reserved for the employees. When she saw him, bareheaded, big and brown the in his white flannels, walking to wa ter’s edge, she could have reached out her hand and touched him. Then he deliberately turned and saw her. Suddenly joy came into her heart as their eyes met and his dark eyes were glad. “Alice!” he exclaimed. She smiled lip at him. “I am glad to s'ee you, Itruee.” “May I Jed sir here beside you?” She flu a little as she moved along the rock. “I must tell you cobt^here—It jjoests are not supposed to Is reserved for hotel employees.” So I understood,” he said quiet ly, as he sat down. “I wonder why you are here, instead of dancing on th V e aT J | worklng here,” and she told him about the Glyndon pride j . * I.rthaTwmy you * stopped writing to me?” I am working here myself-walt ing on table in the annex—some waiter, I am, too!” He juggled a* Imaginary tray. They both laugflied. “I wonder why you are here." she said after awhile. “The Hardens always earn their ,own way through college,” he boast ,ed. “Bad takes the money we save and helps some-ehap who real ■ly needs a lift—you would be sur prised to see the good the money can do. ' <> Will you take me out on the lake, Bruce? she asked after awhile. And on the lake, in the moonlight, with the wind singing in the thick pines that clothed the shore, they planned a ,wpnderful future. Alice refused to allow him ’o purchase an engagement ring, but she did accept a lover’s knot of gold that he wore on a little finger. “When you can afford It—paid for out of money you have earned—you may buy me another," she prom Ised. “That is a new pride that has replaced the foolish Glyn<ku> ■ priciel” (CopyriglLt.y RIGID REVISION “Suppose we include 'Othello’ in i our list of plays, said Mr. Storm -1 ington Barnes. "All riglft, • • answered the man ager. • • But you’ll have to cut out some of the last act. I’m catering to a polite public and we don’t stand for any more of these bed room scenes. »» i * WIF ! w b y if: / fCathle enfNorfel I ; > s « it ! 5) |V j n » i 7 l 2 A l (\ m z m a. foe M 3 LI V I 1 n At* \ A’ ' Ml V *5# A IS Y\$ Mnk?'' V t\ \ \ * ii m V\ is s.y, \ W < Q ■ V \W. V? Jv*i v •i Pm! AiJ * \ q *♦ *»• I LTHOUGH it deals with some of the in teresting problems of married life, it is not, strictly speaking, a problem novel. It is of all an absorbing story, with characters much alive, natural and appealing. dramatic incidents come into the lives of all everyday folks—probably more tensely than those experienced by the more class—this story will have a keen interest for of men and women of today. The has given it the stirring qualities and the of heart-interest for which her books are Read This Record of a Lovely Wife and Puzzling Genius of a Husband Serially in THE DAILY NEWS Starting Thursday West Griffin Saturday evening at 7 o’clock „ Mrs Ida r . „ Codle ,. , s Sunda _ , y schfad , , ‘ class of intermediate boys and * ,rls - , of , 0ak „ . H '» church , , K ave a supper at her home. The decora ' Uons were a11 ,, y ellow ,, and , whlte , and the girls who served were dressed in y ellow and white - These are the class colors. Gertie Hand and LuciIe ^“ a< h had - charge of the door and each per son payed as he entered - Be * tween 75 and 100 persons were p nt ’ The amount cleared, , , which will go to the benefit of nul 0ak , HlU Hill church wa * * 20 , 75 r The ’ ’ - girls who assisted Mrs. Codie in were Nellie ElUa^rine , Norton, Nettie Sue Nichols, Beu lah Sparks, Allie Lee Croy, Lou ise Sleigh, Clyde Lifsey, Nellie Hand, Louise Harris, Marie Har ris, Grace Jackson and Bernice Sparks, Miss Effie .Crowder spent the week-end with Mrs. J. R. Lifsey. Mrs. Aiethia Coker is spend n wek with her son and daughter K Mr and M Mrs R ’ \V W ’ I Pulliam, Mrs. Emily Turl, of Concord, spent the week-end with her mother, Mrs. J. H. Nichols. Sam Cunningham went to Thotnaston Sunday. Mrs. Charlie Stapleton spent the week-end with her sister. Mrs. Walter Payne. Robert Lifsey spent the week end in Brooks. The many friends of Mrs. De lia Lewis will be sorry to hear TEN MEN HELD ViiSSS: FOR DEATH OF ... ; -. ' . ■ - Buchanan, Ga., Nov. 18.— With ten men in jail here in connection with the investigation of the fatal shooting Thursday W night of Mr*. Robert Stewart, preliminary hear ings are expected Tuesday or ■ . Wednesday, at Draketown. Mrs. Robert Stewart was shot during an attempt to abduct her husband, known as the “raiding parson” as the result of his ac tivities against violators of the prohibition law. Alibis. Jeff Henderson, of Paulding county, say that he and his two sons, Otis and Herbert, were at home several miles away at the time of the shooting and will be able to establish alibis. Calvin and Tom Bishop also lay claim to having been elsewhere than at the scene of the shooting and say they will be able te establish this. Tom Gober denies any knowl edge of the crime and says he was at home, several miles away. ! S. C. Hesterly, 16, also denies that he was present or that he knows anything of the crime. John Carter, who lives f >'at Rock-' mart, in Polk county, says he knows nothing of the trouble. George Hutcheson, also of Polk county, has made no statement Emmett Hollis, of Haralson 1 county, is the tenth prisoner. Search Continued. Search for other member* ol j the gang was in progress yester- i; that she is seriously ill at her home. Will Parker spent Sunday in Atlanta. People of Switzerland like American made rubber shoes, and buy more than 140,000 pairs a year. MODERN “FUZZY WUZZY” FIGHTS FOR j# wm S fm. ' * ■ /MT fl ' > y , sty * ’ u. * . V y y hM I ■ 3? 2 ? t 1 is' V / s i \ 7 77 Raja El Naji Ba-Kali is modem Osman Digna. He with all the fury of W uzzy in holding the sacred of Xeuca, Morocco, for 25 in the face of a savage But unlike ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy,” fought on the side of the lievers. He lias been by the Spanish government hb courageous defense of the city •gainst besieging rebel forces, en abiing General Serrano of Spanish forces to break the rebel - ■» P»S' • Mr. Stewart, who assisted in : round up of the ten men ir was not a member of tho today, having temporarily the hunt to attend f t neral services of his wife. Thi o were held tn a little mount tit North Georgia community fro; • which she departed several years f* ago as the wife of a “circuit rider. »» H Simple Exercises. ■ Simple and appropriate exer cises marked the burial. Tributes were paid to her mem ory and her last act—the sacri- ill fice of her life to save her hus band—was eu !ogized. Similar eulogies were heard in the many ' churches of the North Georgia conference Sunday, and in all she was referred to as a heroine, a martyr and a victim of “lawless ness, liquor manufacturing and liquor drinking. »> POWERFUL! North—Did Henry leave an at tractive widow? West—Yes; he had f50,000 life insurance. HOW’S THIS? w ^V of 8 h Catarrh at C ^ri»orM or Doafne- caused C ^r system ^HALL^ CATAimH MEDICHm consist* of an Ointment Whkh ntomMttan., Quickly K«lieves the catarrhal Medlcin«n» Tonic. and the Internal the which acts through assisting to Mucous Surfaces, thus -i ntore normal conditions. 40 _ Ysarw. , druggists for over _ Bold v, j, by Cheney A Co., Toledo. O. At n4.sAs.Ai A Announcement P. T. ARCHER is now located at t 115 WEST TAYLOR ST. (Formerly W. L. Harris Place) Staple and Fancy Groceries SERVICE—QUALITY Prompt Delivery ARCHER PHONE 1068 ft y y f