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“poisoning, or
, substances produced within the
tomach, bowels, kidneys, liver, or
joisons. More than 50 %of adults
bably why you are suffering from
ick of ambition, and many other
our whole system needs stirring up.
f GOLDEN
SCOVERY
ie system to Medical Adviser should I
te and finally
ons Without be without it when it will
Your dealer
Z for a sample ping and mailing—3l one
» BuffaleJQ.Y. ?S nt stamps-to Dr.V.M.
Pierce, Hunalo, 19. X. ■
Gasoline Engines,
Wood Turning Outfits, Pump Jacks, Saw
Mills, Shingle Mills, Power Cane Mills,
Black and Galvanized Pipe, Brass Goods,
and Fittings.
Gainesville Inin Works.
Member Chamber of Commerce,
GAINESVILLE, GA.
I: Opening- ; | I
I I I: millions J
1\ BLACK I I of shoes ./
V, WHITE y a ■ \ daily ./
One way of Bfiafl
LXSMNGMONEY llt!l
Don’t Waste It.
Cut out cheap roofing
IBMNvgf
Paroid
Roofing
will save you money be
cause it lasts longer and
we can prove it.
Also all lengths in Galvanized Roofing.
PRUITT-BARRETT HDW. CO.
soil ~ <
MWffl Pltx 1 ' 1 >^aannaM^MMtShM—MMM
i Any roof that will last 27 years and is still in good condition I
I is well worth looking into. I
I That’s the record behind I
s Aiateial
I. "1
I There are thousands of houses all over the country, many of I
I them in this state, from the owners of which this statement I
I can be verified. I
I 4 For Sale by I
A. H. O’SHIELDS, Gainesville, Ga.
Gainesville Midland Railway Schedule
Time fable No. 16, Aug. 2, 1914.
LEA V E GAINESVI LEE
No. 1 —daily .... .. .... 9.15 a. m
No. B —daily -- - . 4.15 p. m
No. 11 —Daily except Sunday— , . 2.20 p. D-
ARRIVE GAINESVILLE
No. 2—Daily .. .. 9.10 a. m
No. 4 —Daily
No. 12—daily except Sunday. .. ... 12.v0 m I
I
» »
-Tht Dc-.u Stone.
I of Musu I
* t‘
'»*
4*
$ “The Tale Has Served Its i
* Purpose” |
* T
! By JESSIE L. SHARP J
*l•j- II I II 1 1 11 I'ITITTfi U
Overhead was the .Japanese sky of
tender blue. In the far distance the
snowy peak of Fujiyama seemed paint
ed against the horizon, and below at
the foot of the terraced bill the waters
of the iulaml sea lapped the silver
sands.
It was all very beautiful, very peace
ful, a place to dream of love or a
happy past or a sweet, beckoning fu
ture.
Yet Harrington stood there with a
grim smile on his lips and murder iu
his heart. Id the doorway of a tiny
hillside temple his form bulked large
beside the small Japanese guide.
“You are sure?” fie asked Taki for
the third time that afternoon.
"Os a most positive sureness.” re
sponded Taki. also for the third time.
Harrington turned slowly and went
back into the temple. Six strides car
ried him across to the shriue with its
image of the sitting Buddha, calm,
peaceful and remote in its attitude of
meditation.
He did not look up at the image.
His eyes sought the small fiat gray
green stone set in the exact center of
the votive table. It was round and
polished as if with much rubbing.
"If you have lied to me. Taki.” he
said sternly to the guide, who had pad
ded softly in tils wake, "it will go hard
with you. 1 am not to be taken in bv
ordinary tourist stories.”
"That is a truth." assured Taki sol
emnly. "I have myself seen it with
my own eyes.”
"Seen what?"
“The action of the death stone, hon
orable sir "
Harrington suppressed a shudder,
and his voice shook a little as be mo
tioned to the Japanese.
"Go on. Taki. Tell me about it."
Taki drew a long, hissing breath and
sat down upon his heels. Harrington
leaned against the votive table ami
gazed moodily down at the green stone.
“A man from my village had an en
emy. He wished him much evil, and
he persuaded his enemy to come to
Musu and to kiss the death stone: said
it would bring much virtue. The ene
my kiss the stone and fall dead on the
fable."
Harrington walked slowly to the door
and went down the crooked path
among the cryptomerias. Presently he
came out on the seashore and made
his way toward the picturesque little
inn where he had been stopping.
His host came forward, rubbing his
hands with ill concealed pleasure.
“My lord will not dine alone to
night." be said, smiling. "Other Amer
ican gentlemen and ladies will honor
my worthless house.”
Harrington smiled absently, and then
as a sudden thought blazed its way
through the dark chaos of his mind he
asked abruptly:
“These new people—what are their
names?"
“Alas, it has escaped my wretched
memory,” lamented Chenyo, “but one
is a tall gentleman of reddish hair and
merry laugh."
"Grayson himself. At last!” mutter
ed Harrington, and he hurried away to
his tiny room, where a servant was in
waiting with water for his bath.
When he emerged an hour later he
was clothed in spotless white, and.
cool, refreshed and handsome, he was
warmly welcomed by the little party
of Americans dining on the veranda.
"Dick Harrington, by all that’s
good!" shouted James Grayson, spring
ing up and grasping Harrington’s re
luctant hand. "Priscilla, here is an
old friend. You remember Priscilla,
eh. Dick?” Grayson laughed heartily
as his pretty wife arose and shook
hands with the grave eyed man.
"Yes. 1 remember Mrs. Grayson. -
rumbled Harrington’s deep voice, and
the pretty color which had graced Pris
cilla's cheeks faded and left a startled
pallor.
Priscilla Grayson had nearly loved
Dick Harrington once upon a time.
Then Grayson had come and swept
her heart into his own keeping. Slit
had never forgotten Harrington’s white
hot anger, his bitter despair and bis
denunciation of Grayson, who seemed
quite unconscious of playing traitor to
his friend.
Harrington had waited bis time
Some day. he told himself, there would
come the opportunity to pay back
Grayson for his treachery. A kindly
fate must bring them together, anc
then—let Grayson look out for him
self.
So Harrington had nursed his hatrec
and jealousy through a bitter year ol
restless wandering from one country
to another, nowhere finding comfort
or peace for bis troubled heart. A fevA
weeks ago. when he first came to Ja
pan. he beard that the Graysons were
in Tokyo. When Taki. his guide, bad
told him the story of the death stone
of Musu it bad entered Harrington's
mind to lure Grayson here, and—well
the death stone would do the rest.
It was something of a shock for him
to find that the Graysons bad come to
Musu without a lure of any sort save
the beauty of its sloping hillsides and
the exquisite pictures of sea and .ano
and sky at sunrise and sun-et Jaim-
Gfayson was a lands- ape painter, and
Musu had drawn fflm to paint he:
loveliness
Now as they gatbe: d around ’he to
ble. II irriimton. tht 5 : ■> Grays .< am;
a brid an'.' -rroom f: > San Fr . o.
the \ :rtiL-. the-* •• .< !rt-m ;!1 t •
the f: .ged.v that i tl./
rington’s pleasantries Priscilla unite
forgot her nervousness and laughed
and jested with her »'.d .over, never
knowing that each fight reference to
the past was a stab wound in his
heart His lips <rrew white, and there
was a tense lou!< about Ids mouth
when they arose from the table
• An idle evening foiiowed. They
I walked on the sands and stood s;wh
less in the glory of tlie <iin>ef. They
■ saw the moon rise over the distaid
peak of Fujiyama, am l they were
dumb when the moon’s rays fell on the
sacred mountain and turned the cr«st
to a lustrous pearl
| “What a wonderful country!” breatb
; ed Mrs. Martin. "It does not seem that
' anything wrong or wicked could ever
i happen here."
Harrington drew a sharp breath and
looked away. Priscilla Grayson mav
: have heard him. for she looked at his
i stern profile, and she seemed to find
j something ominous in its set expres
sion. for she suddenly complained of
the cold and urged her husband to re
turn to the inn The Martins soon
followed, and Harrington was left alone
with his bitterness of spirit.
The moon swung high in the heav
; ens when a step sounded on the sand
■ beside him.
“By Jove. I’d like to paint this!" cried
: Grayson's cordial voice.
"Wait until you see the temple.” re
; marked Harrington deliberately.
I Grayson sprang up. "Let’s go there
i now."
Harrington got upon his feet and
: slowly led the way along the crooked
path under the black shadows of the
i cryptomerias. On reaching the temple
Harrington pushed open the polished
! cedar door and held it wide for Gray-
I son to follow him. It was dim and
' fragrant in there. A candle was burn
| ing low before the altar.’ Some in
! cense sticks were glowing red on the
I votive table. When their eyes had
grown accustomed to the darkness
j they perceived the mighty image of
the Buddha in the recess.
Presently they moved as by one ac>
cord and crossed to the votive table.
While Grayson's eyes sought the face
of the Buddha. Harrington’s burning
gaze was fixed on the death stone set
in the table The vase of incense
sticks stood near, and the red glow
from the burning sticks shone down
and revealed the dull gray green
stone.
"I wish—l wish 1 could paint this
just as it is. But it isn’t in my line,
as you say.” breathed Grayson, bring
ing his eyes down to meet those of the
other man.
Harrington smiled stiffly.
“If you want to attain your desires,
old man. all you have to do is to kiss
the wishing stone there.” he said awk
wardly.
"Well, here goes. Dock! | shall wish
for the genius to paint the temple as
it is. Looks as idiotic as kissing the
blarney stone, eh?” Grayson laughed,
bent swiftly and would have pressed
his lips to the death stone had not
Harrington's hand snatched him back.
"Don’t!" he cried sharply, placing
himself before the table. "You don’t
know what you are doing, Jim.”
Grayson smiled queerly.
“I happen to be acquainted with the
death stone of Musu.” he said quietly.
There followed a long silence. There
was no sound save Harrington’s deep
agonized breathing. The smoke of
the burning incense swirled upward
and was lost in the darkness above
the table. The face of the Buddha
looked dowu upon them from the lotus
leaf throne.
"1 did not know. I never suspected
until tonight. Dick. 1 am sorry.” said
Jim Grayson at last, and his hand rest
ed on the shoulder of the man who
had lured him to death and then
snatched him away at the fatal mo
ment.
Harrington slowly lifted his head
and looked at his successful rival.
Grayson read in his eyes all the pain
and suffering he had undergone during
the past two years, and a great pity
filled his heart.
"I don't blame you, Harrington. 1
would have done the same thing under
the same circumstances.” be muttered.
"Come down to the shore and tell me
all about it.”
Without a word they went away
and sat down on the silver sands.
They talked until the gray dawn pearl
ed the east, and Priscilla came to the
veranda of the inn. wan and fright
ened. looking for her husband.
She saw Grayson and Dick Harring
ton standing shoulder to shoulder
talking as only intimate friends may
talk. She saw them part with a long
pressure of hands and her husband’s
affectionate slap on the other’s shoul
der.
"Harrington has been called home to
put his shoulder to the wheel of busi
ness.” he explained to Priscilla, but she
guessed that somehow Dick Harring
ton had recovered his manhood, and
she was glad.
Taki. the guide, came running to
them. "My lord, Harrington has gone
away.” he said anxiously. “Perhaps
he was offended that I could not tel!
the straight truth.”
"You did not tell Mr. Harrington
that the death stone had been stolen
years ago and that the stone in the
temple is merely a bit of old jadf
placed there to deceive the unwary?”
"I meant to undeceive him, sir: of a
sureness 1 did ”
"Never mind. Taki; the tale has
served its purpose. You will never
know bow or why, but a good man
has found himself again. Mr. Har
rington bade me give you this." He
tossed a silver coin toward the Japan
ese and went inside, where Priscilla
was waiting for him.
OK^WW* WWW#KM Z«^*s - -Wf--. ,-
Rrt' r ' '■ *
;tVil Lit lc-.K ?
|
' * 4*
X A Niaht Lonq and Happily
♦ Remembered *
t _ I
C« A
| By CLARISSA MACKIE ?
4 A
"doily Dearborn's father signaled the
trolley car at the corner of the village
street and helped Kitty Baker up the
high step to one of the front seats.
"Thank you. Mr. Dearborn: good
night." cried Kitty, waving her hand
as he swung off the moving car.
"Good night." he called bark, adding
to the conductor as the rear of the
car passed him. "[’lease let that young
lady off at Belmont street.”
The conductor shouted back some
answer, and the almost empty ear
whizzed away into the darkness of the
surrounding country.
"Grandmother will scold." she
thought, turning up the collar of her
coat and lifting her face to the strong
breeze that swept through the open
car "She will tell me that Bakers and
Witherams always rode in their own
carriages and that no lady returned
home unescorted from any merrymak
ing. But we are quite poor now, and
our days of splendor are past. As long
as I work side by side in the same
office as Molly 1 must use the same
vehicle that she does.”
Kitty smiled a little as she thought
of the errand that had taken her to
Molly’s that August evening. Molly
was to be married, and Kitty had gone
out to Homedale to see all ihe dainty
details of the trousseau and to discuss
the simple plans. She was to be brides
maid when Molly was married in the
village church.
The conductor thrust a caiioused
blackened palm under her pretty nose,
and Kitty fumbled for a nickel and
paid it. The bell jangled several times
then there was nothing save the flash
of the car toward the city between
walls of green trees on either side of
the track
Thinking of weddings reminded Kil
ty of one that might have been hers if
her pride had not caused her to break
troth with Leu Thornleigh when the
Baked fortune went to smash at hei
father’s death. It bad been Len's firsi
year at college, and he had chafed bit
terly because he must wait three years
before he could leave and support her
•He wanted to break off and go intc
his father’s business without complet
ing his college career, but the great
magnate had demurred and held Ler
to a promise made years before
Kitty 7 had no! seen Len since she had
sent him that cruel letter that inadt
him see light at last. Nothing bul
cruelty would have opened his eyes
She closed her eyes now. and a stran
gled sob rose to her lips as she thought
of the last three years of waiting.
They stopped at a little hooded sta
tion and changed conductors. Kitty-
Baker never knew it. She sat there
drowsily, her face very tender, think
Ing of Len Thornleigh.
The bell ringing up fares roused her
a little, and she groped for another five
cent piece. There was nothing left in
her purse save a silver quarter. She
held it in her gloved fingers, waiting
for the condiu-tor.
When he came she did not look up.
He leaned across the intervening space
and held out his hand.
Kitty stared down at the hand. It
was very different from the band of
the other conductor. This was a clean,
brown, muscular looking hand, with
well kept nails and a plain gold ring
on the little finger.
It was a familiar hand. A sudden
horror smote Kitty Baker, and she
thrust forward the silver quarter
Somehow it spun away out of her fin
gers and went into the darkness.
"Oh!” she cried sharply. “1 haven't
another penny with me!" Then she
looked into his face and saw that if
the hand was the band of Len Thorn
leigh the face certainly belonged to
the son of the great financier. His
eyes met hers uncertainly, steadied
and became, bits of gray agate.
It could not be Len. for he did not
recognize her. It was a wonderful re
semblance.
'That was all the money I had,"
apologized Kitty. "What shall 1 do?"
"Yon can pay me another time." ht
said gravely and touched his hat. He
rang up her fare and went away to tin
back of the car.
Kitty sat paralyzed with surprise.
It was Len Thornleigh’s voice she had
heard too
Iler good sense told her that this
was absurd—to imagine that this trol
ley conductor could be Len Thornleigh’
Why. Len drove around in his own
high power motorcars, and she bad
read only the day before that his fa
ther was building a great country
house at .Marblehead.
The ear whistled shrilly as it went
down the steep incline that approached
a narrow bridge over the little river
As they rumbled over the bridge the
car slackened speed and came to a sud
den standstill at the same instant that
the lights went out.
The conductor went forward and sa’
down with the motorman. They talk
ed together in low tones Kitty look
ed hack through the car and saw om
man sitting alone on the rear seat. He
appeared to be asleep, although hr
stirred as she looked at him.
it was very <p:iet there waiting for
the power to return to the trolley ca
bles Kitty vawned sleepily and won
dered if grand!:' ther would scold very
much v. she H-rm ned home.
Ste closed her eyes, and the wind
-lew little tend its of her brown hair
aver her whit- • head.
Al. t breath a her nock roused her
mst..: :ly.
“Might as well be sociable." said a
thick voice behind her. and she turned
to rind that the solitary passenger had
walked along the running board and
taken a seat back of her "Don't care
how long we stay, do you?" He
laughed recklessly, and Kitty sat there
| frozen with horror.
If the conductor or the motorman
would only turn around!
i “S’pose i might as well sit beside
I you." mumbled the man as he essayed
i to climb over the seat.
I “Please don’t!" cried Kitty, unaware
| of the sharp terror in her voice.
| A dark form swung into view from
! the front platform, and the motorman
i thrust his head through the open front
I window.
The conductor pushed the loafer
back into the seat and hustled him
into the rear of the car. "Stay there,”
he ordered sternly, "or I’ll put you off
—understand?”
The loafer grumbled himself into un
easy slumber, and the conductor came
up and stood at the end of Kitty’s
seat Kitty could see his form out
lined against the open end. **
“I am sorry he frightenedjlfSu,” he
said courteously. “I shoul'i .jot have
left the car only I thou/ J. he was
asleep.”
“It is no matter.” trembled Kitty.
"Must we wait long?”
"I cannot say. There is something
wrong at the power house. The serv
ice has been poor all day.”
He sat down on the end of her seat
aid removed his cap. letting the wind
ruffle his hair. He did not address
her again.
Kitty knew that he was sitting there
to protect her. and she felt a grateful
stir of warmth at his thoughtfulness.
It was what one would expect from a
man that looked so much like Len
Thornleigh!
Suddenly he put up his hand and
rumpled his hair in such a familiar
manner that Kitty Baker overstepped
the bounds of conventionality and ex
claimed:
“Len!”
Like a flash he turned toward her
and sat staring. In that instant the
light flared up and revealed her face.
Again they were in darkness, but he
was sliding along the seat toward her.
"Kitty! Is it really vou?” he asked
hoarsely.
"Why. Len. Len. it is you after all!"
she half sobbed.
Somehow her hands were in his and
he was holding them tightly, shaking
them up and down.
"What are you doing here?” he asked
brusquely, as one unaccustomed to see
ing his womankind riding unprotected
in public vehicles at midnight.
Kitty told him frankly, finding a de
licious sense of relief in talking to him
again.
“And you?" she asked at last.
“Working—earning my living.” he
said grimly.
“Then you are poor. Something has
happened. Oh. Len. I am so glad!”
Kitty’s voice was betraying.
“Now that I am a wage earner you
can tell me if you love me,” he said
gently. *
“Oh, Len, of course 1 do!” sobbed
Kitty on his shoulder, and the motor
man discreetly turned Ills back upon
them.
“And you will marry me?” he asked
after an interval.
"Yes.” she whispered, "if you can
take grandmother too.”
"Os course. I wish there were more
of you to take, uncles and cousins and
aunts.” he chuckled gayly, then sud
denly: "But how about my fathers
money? You hate the stuff.”
"Yes. in away, only I felt 1 could
not hold you to your promise when I
was so poor, and—and—l thought you
were working for your living now.”
Kitty drew away from his arms.
"I am. When you drew that line
against my money 1 went to father
and told him if I went through college
I would earn every penny myself. I
couldn’t let the girl I loved go out
to work every day and be such a drone
myself. He let me do it. and I’ve
done all sorts of things. Kitty. This
trolley work is fine and cool and
healthy in the summer time!” He
laughed a big. healthy laugh.
“Y our—father—was disappointed ?”
“Not in the least. Guess what his
last words were when I took this job.
Kitty?” There was laughter in his
voice.
“Tell me.”
“ ‘Go out and grub for your living.
It won’t hurt you. And if you can
find that little girl of yours—Dan Ba
ker’s daughter—just kidnap her and
tell her there is a big. lonesome house
waiting for her here. " Len’s voice
was very tender when he concluded.
“And grandmother, too?” asked Kit
ty weakly.
"Rpom for a dozen like her You
know all our women folks have died."
said Len in a hushed voice.
“Len. I believe you need us.” whis
pered Kitty, and this time she did not
resist when his arms went around her.
The lights flared up again as the
power returned to stay now, and Len
went back to his post while the car
went on toward the city, leaving the
bridge behind —that mystical bridge
that had brought these two parted lov.
ers so strangely together again.
The mot' rman glanced back intc
the car. He saw Kitty’s happy, blush
ing fate dreaming there on the front
seat Re Thornleigh’s beaming
c-onntt ’ . t- n t!ie hack platform and
sent ni- i':der<t;tnding signal of
- • n -;nd >rood fellowship
• l'> ’uund his girl.” be
' ■■ ’ "'niseit and ne stared
t< ; ■..< i;:nc <ity. thinking
; ■ . • there tor him.