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FOURTH PAGE THE SUNNY SOUTH ^ Childerbrid&'e Mystery ^ BY GUY BOOTH BY, author of 44 Dr. Nikola," “The Beautiful White Devil," Etc. (Copyright 1902.) SYNOPSIS OF INSTALLMENTS I TO VI.—William Standerton, a successful colonist, and his two grown up children, (have decided to leave Australia and set tle down in the Old Country. Just be fore their start the son. Jim, is accosted by a "swagman,” who tells him to inform «his father that Richard Murbridge will meet him in the morning. When Jim de livers the message, his father seems greatly agitated, a .id although no harm ct mes of the meeting with Murbridge whom Standi/ton acknowledges having known In previous years, both Jim and his s’ster are rendered very uneasy. Childer- bridge Manor becomes the English home of the Standertons—an historic mansion with an army of ghosts. Jim, out driving, ri ng over a dog and becomes acquainted with its mistress. Miss Decie, and her • guardian, Abrahar.i Bursfleid The two young people in time fall in love with one another, but Mr Burslleld refuses his c<*nsent. Jim encounters Richard Mur bridge in the park. Ho forbids him tc sec his father, but the latter, on hearing of it, sends for the man and they have a stoimy interview*. That evening a fainting servant declares she has seen a f host and the next morning William tanderton is found dead in bed. stran gled. Suspicion fastens . at once upon Murbridge, who, it is found, has left for London. “The- Black Dwarf’ again ap pears, frightening the inmates of the hall. At the inquest a verdict of “murder” is returned against a person or persons un known. Jim takes Helen Decic back to the Dower House, and is met by Mr. Bursfield, who angTily forbids any more communication between the two and re fuses to state his reasons. Helen writes Jim that whilst she sorrowfully acqui esces. she will be true to him to the end. As Scotland Yard fails to unearth Wil liam Standerton’s murder, his son essay3 the task, aided by Terence O’Riley, a for mer servant, who opportunely turnd up from* Australia. * CHAPTER SEVEN ' was considerably past midday by the time Jim and I .is sister, accompanied by Terence." reached Lon don. On arriving at Pad dington, they engaged a cab. and drove to the hotel Jatres had selected, a pri vate establishment leading out of Piccadilly. Terence's amazement at the size of Lonaon was curious to wit ness. Hitherto be had re garded Melbourne as stu pendous. now It struck him as a mere vil lage compared with this giant metropo lis. When he noted the constant stream of traffic, the crowds that thronged the pavejrcnts, and tile interminable streets, his heart misgave him concerning the enterprise upon which he had so confi dently embarked. "Bless my soul, how many people can there be ir, London?" he asked; as they drove up to the hctel. "Something j>ver five million." Jim re plied "It's a fair-sized township.” "And we are going to look for ofie man?" continued the other. "I guess it. would i>? easier to find a scrubber in the mallee than to get on the track of a man who is hiding himself here.” "Nevertheless, we’ve got to find him eomehew," Jim replied. ‘That's the end of the matter.” , After lunch lie sent word to Terence that he wished him. to accompany.him on. his first exeursicn. Up to' that time he had foriiied no definite plan of action, but it- was borne, in upon him that he could do nothing, at all until he had visit ed the eating house to Vhich Murbridge had Ccen traced after his arrival.at Pad- .dlngton station. They, accordingly made their way to the house in-.question. It- .proved to be an uninviting place, with a sawdust covered floor, and half a dozen small t^bld arranged, along one side. On the other-was a counter upoii which were 'redvidislies.- nd slipping on k greasy coat, he led the way from the shop to a tiny apartment leading opt of it. It was very dirty and redolent of onions and had tobacco. Its furniture was scanty and comprised a ta ble. covered with American cloth, a cup board .end -wo wooden chairs, upon one of which James was invited to seat him self. Terence, who hack* followed them, took the other, while he surveyed its own er with evident disfavor. "And now, sir." said that individual, “I shall be glad if you can tell me what I can do for you. If it’s about the Board School election, well. I’ll tell you at once, straight out, as man to man, that I ain't arcin' to vote for either party. There was a young vagabond that I engaged the until that moment had been rolled up, the other replied. “Go along this street, then take the third turning to your left and the first on the right. You can’t make no mistake about it.” “And what kind of a street is it?” Jim inquired. "I mean, what sort of char acter dees it bear?" "Well, sir, that's more than I can tell you,” said the other. "For all T know to the contrary it’s a farish sort of street, not so fust class as some others I could name, but there's a few decent people liv ing in it.” “And do you happen to have anything else to tell me about him.” ‘That's all I know, sir,” said the other. “I haven't set eyes on him from that blessed moment until this, and I don’t know as I want to.” 'There/' he said ’ ts a sovereign. I can see that you are keeping something back from me. No% the money is yours, whether you tell me or not" displayed )a variety of cov%'re> Whop. James, wntertd the pvopet^^e WM giving- his attention to a steamrng pan 'of frying omens. “What can I do for you, sir?” he asked' aa he removed the frying pah from the gas and came forward. "I want five minutes’ conversation with you in private, if you can spare the time,” Jim replied, find then in a lower voice he added: "I stand in need of some informa tion which I have been told you are in a position to supply. I need not say that I . hall be quite willing to recompense you for any loss of time or trouble you may he put to.” “In 'hat case I shai! be very happy to oblige you, sir,” the man replied civil ly enough. "That is to say, if it is in my power to do so. Will you be good enough to step this way? ’ ■ Pulling down his shirt sleeves, which ether day. He had had a Board school education, and it had taught him enough to be able to humbug me with his tak ings. Thirteen and eleven-pence ’alf- penny Was 'what he stole from me. And as I said to the missus only last night, ‘no more Board school lads for me!’ But •there, -sir, p'raps you ain't got nothing to do with them?” . - "I certainly have not.’* Jamefi replied. "I am here on quite -a different matter. Of oot-rse, you remember the police visit- ing-you.a short time since, with regard to a man who was suspected of being the murderer of Afr.-Standerton, at Chjlder- bridge in Midlandshire ” “.Remember ..it?” the man replied. “I should just think. I do., And^ haven’t I got . good, cause, to remember'it? I was n opt worrited to death by ’em , . First it ■, hang- vya8 oflfi. aiid then |»*vsas, ing abbut here and asking^ ir seeh?*he'*Bao ? asking truer FRIED 0RI0IS Indirectly Caused the Death of the World’s Greatest General. . It is a matter of history that Napoleon was a gormand, an inordinate' lover of the good things of the table, and history further records that his favorite dish was fried onions; his death from cancer of stomach it Is claimed also, was probably catised from his excessive Indulgence of this fondness for the odorous vegetable. The onion is undoubtedly a wholesome article rfT food;in fact, has many medicinal qualities of value, but it would be diffi cult to find a more indigestible article than fried onions, and to many people they are simply poison, but the onion does not stand alone in this respect. Any article ol food that is not thoroughly digested becomes a source of disease and discom fort whether it be fried onions or beef steak. The reason why any wholesome food is rot • promptly digested is because the stomach lacks some important 'element of digestion, some stomachs lack peptone others are deficient in gastric juice stili others lack hydrochloric acid. The one thing necessary to do in anv case of poor digestion is to supply those elements of digestion which the stomach lacks, and nothing does this so thoroughly and safely as Stuart's Dyspepsia Tablets Dr. Richardson ir. writing a thesis on trehtment of dyspepsia and indigestion closes his remarks by saying, “for those suffering from acid dyspepsia, shown by sour, watery risings, or for flatulent dys pepsia shown by gas on stomach, caus ing heart trouble and difficult breathing, as well as for all other forms of stomach trouble, the safest treatment is to take one or two of Stuart's Dyspepsia Tablets after each meal. I advise them because they contain no harmful drugs, but are cemposed of valuable digestives, which act promptly upon the food eaten. T never knew a case of indigtstion or even chronic fyspepsia which Stuart's Tablets would hot reach.” Cheap cathartic medicines • laimlng to cure dyspepsia and indigestion can have no effect whatever in actively digesting the food, and to call any cathartic medi cine a cure for indigestion is a misnomer. Every druggist in the United States and Canada sells Stuart's Dyspepsia Tablets, and they apq not only the safest and most successful, but the most scientific of any treatment for' indigestion and stomach troubles. Had jJAdre- he had gore? What was h»?Mk*^: i Irwon’t say as iiow a detc-ctlve mightn’t to ask questioi s', because we all know. it's his .duty/ tut when ■ it comes to interferin’ iw 1th a man's private business and drivtn’ Us customers away from the shop—for I won’t make no secrets with you that there is folks as eats at ihy table as is not in love with ’tecs—well, then I say, if it comes to that, it's about time a nian put his foot down.” "My case is somewhat different,” said James. "In the first place I am not a de tective, but the son of. the gentleman who was murdered.” "God bless me, sir, you don't say so,” said the man, regarding him with aston ishment and also with evident apprecia tion. “Now that makes all the differ ence. It's .nly fit and proper that a young gentleman should want to find out the man who, so to speak, has givgn him such. a. knock down blow. Ask me what questions you like, sir, and I’ll do my best to answer ’em.” "Well, first and foremost.” said Jim, “I want to know how you became aware that the man in question hailed from Childerbridge? He wouldn't have been likely to say so.” “No, you’re right -there,” the man re plied. "He didn’t say so. but I knew it, because after he had had his meal, my girl was giving him 'is change, and I saw that there was a Childerbridge label on the small bag he carried in his hand. I put it to you, sir, if he hadn’t been there, would that label have been on the hag?” "Of course it would not. And he an swered to. the description given you?” "To a T, sir. Same srrt of face, same sort of dress, snarly manner of speaking, : potted bird’s eye necktie and all.” "It must have been the man. And now pnother question. You informed .the po lice, did you not, that you had no knowl edge as to where he went after he left yotr shop?” The man figitted uneasily in his chair for a moment, and drummed with his fingers upon the cover of the table. It was evident that he was keeping some thing back, and was trying to make up his mind as to whether he should divulge his information or not. Here James played a good game, and with a knowledge of human character few people would suppose him to possess, took from his pocket a sovereign which he laid on the table before the other. "There." he said, “ts a sovereign. I can see that you are keeping something back from me. Now that money Ik yours whether you tell me or not. If it is likely to affect your hanpincss don’t let me know, but ifiyou can I shall be glad if you will do so.” "Spoken hke a gentleman, sir,” the other replied, "and I don't mind if I do. tell you, though it may get me into trou-' hie with some -of my customers if you give me away. You see, sir, round about here in this neighborhood a man has to be a bit careful as to what he says and does. Suppose ’ it wp.s to come to the ears of some people that it wa3 me as gave the information that got the hloko arrested, well then, they’d he sure to say to ’emselves: ‘He's standin’ in with the perlice, and we don't go near his shop again.’ Do you take my meaning, sir?” "I quite understand.” James replied. “I see your difficulty, but you may be quite sure that I will not mention your name in connection with an information you may give me.” "Spoken and acted like a gentleman,” said the shopman “Now I’ll tell you what I know. I didn't tell the 't,cs.' be- cos they didn't treat. me any too wen. But this is what I do know. sir. As ho went out of the door, he asked my little toy. Tommy, wot was playing on the pavement, how far it was to Great Med ium street? The boy gave him the di rection and he went off.” “Great Medium street?” said James, and made a note of the name in his pocket book. ''Arid how far away may that lie frqm here?” < _ "Not more than ten minutes' walk,” “I am *very much obliged to you,” said Jim rising and putting his pocket book away. “You have given me great assist ance.” “I'm sure you’re very welcome, sir.” replied the man. “1 am always ready to do anything I can for a gentleman. It’s the Board School folk that—” Before the man could finish his sen tence, Jim was in the shop once more, and was making his way toward the door, closely followed by Terence. “Now the first question to be decided,” he said, when they were in the street, “is what is best for us to do? If I go to Great Medium street it is more than l kely that Murbridge will see me and make off again. While, if I wait to com municate with Robins I may lose him al together.” , Eventually it was \ decided that hp Should‘Hot' &jt on hjs ofciy Hilda' ! >houli *rite to Detect!** Robins,' Mm mane Inquiries in 'the neighborhood in' question. A note was accordingly dis patched to the tuthorlties at Scotland Yard. In it James informed them that it had come to bis knowledge that the man Murbridge was supposed to be re siding In Great Medium street, though in what house could not be stated. Later in Ike lay Robins himself put in an appear ance at the hotel. "You received my letter?” James asked when they were alone together. “I did, sir,’ the man answered. "And acted upon it at (nee." “And with what result?” “Only to discover that, our man has slipped through our fingers once more,” said the detective. “He left Great Med ium street two days ago. Up to that time he hacl lodged at No. 18. The landlady in forms me that she knows nothing as to bis present whereabouts. He passed un der the name of Melbrook and was sup posed by the other lodgers to be an Amer ican.” “You are quite certain that it is our man ?” “There can be no doubt about it. He went to No. IS about breakfast time on the morning that the murder was discov ered. Now the next thing to find out is where he now is. From what the land lady told me I should not think he was in the possession of much money. As a matter of fact, she suspected that he had been pawning his clothes, for the "reason that his bag. which was comparatively heavy when he arrived, seemed to be al most empty when he left. Tomorrow morning I shall make inquiries at the various pawnbrokers in the neighborhood, and It is just possible we may get some further information from them." Then Robins took his departure, and Jim went in search of .Alice to tell her the news. Next day word was brought to him to the effect that Murbridge had pawned several articles, but In no case were the proprietors able to furnish any information concerning his present whereabouts. Feeling that it was Just possible, as in the case of the eating house keeper, near Paddington Station, that the detectives had not been able to acquire all the knowledge that was going, Jim, accompanied by the faithful Terence, set off in the afternoon for No. 18 Great Medium street. It proved to be a lodging house of the common type. In response to their ring the door was opened by the landlady, a voluble person of Irish de scent. She Iookld Her', visitors up and down before admitting them, and having done so inquired if thiy stood in need of apartments; ! • "I regret to say thalt we do not,’ said Jim. blandly. “My friend and I have come to put a few questions to you con cerning—” “Not poor Mr. Melbrook, I do hope, ’ she answered. “Is all London gone tnad? 'Twas but yesterday aft-moor., just when I was setten down to my bit o' tea, that a gentleman. comes to moke inquiries about Mr. Melbrook. I told 'im he’d left the house, but that would not do. He fcept me outside here askin' questions— an* my tea got cold, an’ I had to make some more. He wanted to know where he had gone, and when and why he left, just for all the world as if be was his long lost brother. Tbeu this .norning another cones. Wanted to know if I knew where Mr. Melbrook pawned his clothes. Did he appear to be in any trouble? Now here ycu ate with your questiens. D'ye think I’ve got nothing better to do than to be trapesing around talkin’ about what don't concern me? \Vhufg the world coming to, I should'like to know?” “But, my good woman, I am most anx ious to find Mr. Melbrook,”. said Jim, "and if you c.an. jmt me into the possession of any information that will help me to do so, I shall be very pleased to reward you for your trouble.” . “But I've got nothing to tell you,” she replied. "Mere’s the pity of it, since you speak so fair. From the time that Mr. Melbrook left my houSe until this very moment, I*ve : heard nothing of ’im. He may have gone back to America—if he was an American as they say—but there, he may be anywhere. He was one of them sertof men that says nothing about his business; he just kept himself to himself with his paper, and took his drop of gin and water at night the same as you and me might do. If I was to die next minute, that's all I can tell you about him.” ■ Seeing that it was useless to question her further, Jim pressed some coins into the woman’s willing hand, and bade her good-day. Then, more dispirited by his failure than he would admit, he drove back to his hotel. Alice met him in the hail with a telegram. “This has just come for you,” she said. "I was about to open it.” Taking it from her, he tore open the envelope, and withdrew the message. It vas from Robins, and ran as follows; "Think am on right track—will report as soon as return.” It had been dispatched from Waterloo Station. “Why did he not say where he was go ing?” said Jim testily, “instead of keep ing me in susper.st?” “Because he does not like to commit himself befoi e ho ■ has more to report, I suppose,” said Alice. "Do not worry yourself about It. dear. You will hear everything tin good time.” A long letter from Helen arrived that evening and helped to console him, and the writing ct an answer • to her enabled him to 'while away another half hour. But it must be Confessed that that even ing Jim was far from. being himself. He felt that he would have given anything to have accompanied' the detective in his search. He went to bed at an early hour to dream tbat.he was chasing Murbridge round ihe werid. and do what he would he could not corah up with him. Next day there was no news, and it was not until the middle of the afternoon following that he heard anything. Then another telegram aJUved stating that the detec tive would jrj at "the hotel between 4 and 5 o'clock that afternoon. He did so, and the first glimpse of bis face told Jim that his errand had as uhual been fruitless. “I can see,’” he Said, “that you have not met with any success. It that not so?” “I’m sorry, sir,” the' nian answered. “In formation Was brought to Ihe the day before yesteWdy th&t a man answering in every wjj^ the description of the person we Han** ,* bttvrtiejl a - small portman- J*$g tq a rea, n x^ e - “ Death Valley and Its Death Chain* Haunted By Hideous ^Shapes Buying; Trouble. The property owner who buys paint without a full comprehension of his needs and requirements buys trouble. Of old it was said, “As a nail sticketh close be tween the joinings of the stones, so doth sin stick between buying and selling." This is preeminently true of the paint trfi.de—there is far more bad paint than good to be had—for a consideration, and the most costly paint is by no means the beet. Notwithstanding all arguments as to purity and the like, what the buyer of paint wants is protection and beauty for his proDerty. and the better and the longer a paint will give him these for a given outlay the better it is for the buyer. To beauty, durability and economy it is now generally acknowledged by all dis interested authorities, zinc white is es sential in paint. Good paint—good, as above defined—cannot be made without it; but. on the other hand, it must be ad mitted. plenty of bad paint is made with it. The whole question then resolves it self into a matter of honor among paint manufacturers. People do not acquire a reputation for honesty, nor do goods ac quire a reputation for quality without substantial reason. Reputation is noth ing but accumulated evidence become cur rent. It follows that the paint buyer can safely bank on the paint makers’ reputa tion. If a house have the reputation for making superior paints it Is safe to ac cent that renutation as evidence of a fact. With such paint usually goes a guarantee of quality and service such as cannot be had with any other paint ma terials. It is thus possible to buy paint without “buying .trouble.” STANTON DUDLEY. f rea inAtfi©; Mile End road, auadijB there I heard mat he- hA come i« lodge at a house ili cne of the streets. in the Vioinity. Ac companied -by one of, my mates, I went to the house in question, only- to discover that we were too late again, and that the n an had left for Southampton that morn ing-intending to catch th4 outgoing boat for South Africa Procuring a cab I set off for Waterloo, and on my arrival there sent that telegram to you, sir, and then went down to Southampton by the next train. Unfortunately the two hours’ delay had given him his chanee, for when I reached Southampton it was cniy to find that the vessel had sailed half and hour before. I went at once to the agent's office, where I discovered that a man whose appearance tallied exactly with the description given, had booked a steerage passage at the last moment, and had sailed aboard her.But if he's got out of England safely, we’ll catch him at Madeira. The police there will arrest him, and hold him for us until we can get him handed over. He does not know that I am upon his track, and for that reason he’ll be sure to think he’s got safely away.” “We must hope to catch him at Ma deira then. The vessel doe's not touch at any port between, I suppose?” Robins shook his head. “No. Madeira is the first port of call And now. sir, I’ll bid you good night, if you don't mind. I've 'had a long day of it, and I'm tired. Tomorrow morning I’ve got to get abroad early on another little case which Is causing me a considerable amount of anxiety.” Jim bade bim good night and then went in search of his sister, only to find that she had a bad headache, and had gone to bed. After the excitement of the day it was impossible for him to remain idle at home, so donning his hat and coat he left the hotel for a stroll. He walked quietly along Piccadilly, smoking his cigar and thinking of the girl who liad promised to be his wife and who, at that moment, was probably thinking of him in the quiet little Midlandshire village. How delight ful life would be when she should become his. He tried to picture himself in the capacity of Helen's husband. From Helen his thoughts turned to Murbridge and he fell to imagining the guilty wretch, flying acros the seas, flattering himself contin ually that he had escaped the punishment he so richly deserved, finding security in every mile of water the vessel left be hind her. little dreaming that justice was aware of his flight, and that Nemesis was waiting for him so short a distance ahead. Reaching Piccadilly Circus he walked on until he arrived at Leicester square. As the sky had become overcast, and a thin drizzle was beginning to fall, he called a hansom and bade the cabman drive him back bis hotel. The horse started off, and they were very soon pro ceeding at a fast pace in the direction of Piccadilly. Just as they reached the Cri terion theater, a man stepped from the pavement, and began to cross the road. Had not the cabman sharply pulled his horse to one side, nothing could lave saved him from being knocked down. So rear a thing was it that Jim sprang to his feet, and threw open the apron, feeling sure that the man was down. But ciose shave though it had been the pedes trian had escaped : nd, turning round, was shaking his fist in a "paroxysm of rage at the cabman. At that moment he saw Jim and stood for a second or two as if turned to stone; then, gathering his faculties to gether, he dived beneath two caljs and disappeared. ■ That man was Richard Murbridge! (To Be Continued ) Mgr. Paul Guerin, editor of the Dic- tionnaire des Dictionnaires and author of many esteemed Catholic books, Is being tried at Chateauroux for obtaining 0.000,- 000 on false pretenses/ from Aany per sons. -The Dictionnajde is the cause of his troubles. jr f By James A Hall (Written for The Sunny South.) ACK in the Paleozoic age, say the geologists, the gulf of California rolled its salt' waves qs far in ward as the Great Salt Jake, and throughout the sterile basin which lies partly in Nevada and Cal ifornia, and partly in Utah and Arizona, the traces of the ancient sea are visible today. This former sea bod is cut into numerous val- . leys by rugged and barren u ° "I i? anscs aad Presents in many of ts sections conditions found nowhere else on the earth’s crust Here nature seems not to have finished its task, and one is forcibly reminded of that remote time before the earth was made a fit Place for life to exist upon. The convulsions of nature which built up the western portion of the continent cut in twain the gulf of California near the present frontier of Mexico and formed a number o'f deep inland seas. This group of salt lakes lay in one of the hottest and dryest regions in the world. No streams of any magnitude flowed into these lakes, and the great evaporation gradually pumped out the water and left them dry. The beds of these inland seas now form the Colorado afid Mojave des4 srts and Death valley, and the succession of desert valleys extending on to northern Utah. The Colorado and Death deserts lie from 250 to 300 feet below sea level and present many strange conditions of cli mate and animal and vegetable lifr The Mojave, pronounced Mo-har-ve, is a bil lowy plain punctured here and there by barren mountains and extends from the California sierras eastward. The Mojave river rises in the San Bernardino moun tains and flows eastward out on the des ert. The sands are so all-absorbing that they do not permit a tree to grow along the river's course. There are only a few scattering mesquite bushes, and even the river itself is unequal to the thirst of the sands and the air, and is swallowed up in the waste. The water sinks and reappears and sinks again and vanishes entirely before it reaches the confines of Death valley, toward which it flows. Near the bottom of that large blank spot on the map called the state of Ne vada may bp seen a tiny black mark which winds its way across the boundary line into California. It is called the Amar- gosa river, and appears to flow into a lake on the California side. The depression through which the Amargosa's brackish waters find their way is that desolate and forbidding sink In the earth’s surface which has gained for it self the name of Death valley. This grim region lies about 200 miles north of The Needles, where the Santa Fe railroad crosses the Colorado river, and is only accessible by winding trails through a wilderness of mountains, barren, sun-scorched and waterless. _ Death valley is about t>) miles long by 50 wide, and at its lowest point is 260 feet below sea level. Oder the greatest portion of its length extends a deposit of soda, salt, borax and alkali. There is a wide expanse of stalagmites of crystal lized soda and borax, and the bottom of the valley looks like a frozen lake pow dered over with snow. The Panamnit mountains, which form the western boundary of Death valley, rise bold and rugged from the plain. These mountains are as barren and uninviting as when they came from the volcanic forge. They are gray and brown with streaks and patches of yellow and crimson. Sometimes through the heated air they appear bright and fiery red, changing to purple, and again they gleam in the sun light with the metallic luster of copper. Some of these mountains rise abruptly from the floor of the valley to a height of 5,000 feet, and their tomblike desola tion is depressing beyond words. A fine alkali dust fills the hot winds that sweep through the valley, which pro- Daath Valley In all Its Solitude the three others who were unaffected hastily constructed such shelter as they could with their blankets over the fallen men. It was then discovered that near ly all the water had evaporated, and Hannon and the three men- who could travel took a few of the donkeys and went back to the mountains for more water. When they returned they found their companions all dead and the don keys lay near with their throats cut. The fainting men, in their delirium of thirst, had sought to prolong life by drinking the blood of the pack animals, but in vain. It is said Eearful that birds, attempting to Delirium fly across the stifling For Men alkali desert of Death Dost in valley, become exhausted Dossrt and drop dead before they reach the cool air of the mountains on the other side. Owing to its great depression below sea level the heat, which is bottled up, so to speak, and the powerful reflection and refraction, carry the summer tem perature up to 140 for weeks at a time, and it is said that 120 degrees is common at midnight during the months of July and August. The heat waves and the peculiar quality of the atmosphere are often more than the human mind can stand. The danc ing mirages drive men, . who are inured to the life of the desert and its hard ships, insane. Stories are told of miners and other desert riien who became so af fected by the atmospheric illusions that they would take o'ff their clothes and, holding them above their heads, would cry. out to be saved from drowning. Then, overcome with thirst, they would dig their finger nails Into their flesh and suck their own blood until death ended their miseries. The" plant and the animal, or rather reptile, life of Death valley is in keep ing with its surroundings. A few stunted cacti peep up here and there and a sepul chral weed with black leaves may be seen at wide intervals clinging to the rocky sides of the mountains. Scorpions, lizards, centipedes and taran tulas swarm among the rocks on the hillsides and where projecting ledges fur nish shade the Gila monster makes his home. This most repulsive of the Ameri can reptiles is not the deadly thing he is supposed to be. He is only a great, fat and clumsy lizard covered with snakelike spots. But he is believed by the Indians and miners to be more poisonous than any rattlesnake, and such a relentless war has been waged on him that the species outside of Death valley is now almost extinct, but in the burning soli tudes of that forbidding region he may flourish for years to come. There is no bird life in Death valley, but there are great horned toads which, it is said, can spit blood from their eyes, and monster kangaroo rats which hop about on their hind legs and are reported to eat scor pions and tarantulas. The grasshopper mouse is a tiny member of this hopping rat family and he is credited with mak ing his meals of wriggling centipedes. The Colorado desert, which lies near est the gulf of California and occupies the southeastern corner of the state of that name, is more hospitable than either Mojave or Death valley. This desert ex tends from the Colorado river westward to the San Jacinto mountains. It is a dead sea floor of drifting sand dunes and patches of mesquite and agave plants. Its sand drifts glisten like snow under the burning sun and its mirages float and mingle in many weird and fantastic forms. But the Colorado offers a home to hu man kind. Several tribes of Indians, and some white men, live on this desert. There are a number of hamlets along the line of the Southern Pacific railway between Yuma and Banning, irrigation is receiving considerable attention and the- whlte desert sands are being made to yield the finest and earliest of vegetables. Water for irrigation is obtained from artesian wells around Indio and at Im perial a big canal taps the waters of the Colorado river. It is said land about Imperial is being taken up very rapidly and the town is making considerable “boom noise.” Along the mountain sides can be plainly seen the gray shore lines when the duces a scorching sensation and a terrible breakers of the ancient sea spent their thirst. The skin peels off the hands and face, the nose burns as when inhaling ammonia, and the lips parch, crack and bleed. The intense heat produces many- weird mirages which float and waver before the bewildered gaze and there is a sense of impending doom in the infernal atmosphere. Death valley is so difficult of access and is so repellent that it is but little known, and because of this fact many wild and fantastic stories have gained cir culation regarding it. But its conditions are such as to cause the Pinte Indians, who dwell on its border, and the mine prospectors and other desert men who have come to know Death valley in all its moods to regard it as a place accursed and Co be avoided as one would avoid the open door of Sheol. Back in the forties a band of adven turous Mormons attempted to pass through the valley from the north, but perished among what have since been called the Funeral mountains. Forty years ago a miner named Harri son and a party attempted to cross the valley from the mountains on the west ern side. They were well provided with provisions, more than half of their pack donkeys being loaded with water. The second day put them well out on the desert. Their course lay through en crusted soda end borax, and huge and jagged stalagmites made progress slow and difficult. It was during the month of August and the heat was overpower ing. The party had not got half across the blinding salt waste when four of the men fell down exhausted. Hannon and fury against the rocks, and at Salton sink the last stand of the disappearing sea is found. The Salton lake lies a few miles south of the Southern Pacific railroad and la 265 feet above the level of the California gulf. The disappearing Salt sea left here a sort of Fialda marsh which became coat- oflncsl- ed over with pure white culsbl* salt. This salt field, said- Vain. to be the richest in the world, covers, about a thousand acres and looks at a distancs like a field of tha whitest snow. The blazing light of the sun upon this field of white produces a brilliancy unbearable, while the heat, enormously increased by reflection and refraction, is such that no white man can exist there for any con siderable time. Salt was taken from this field in Small quantities for many ye8rs,*but it was not until after the Colorado broke over its banks and formed a great lake here in 1892 that anything on a commercial scale was attempted. This new lake was evaporated very rapidly and men who ventured into its bed after the water had disappeared discovered a sheet of white whose dazzling brilliancy blinded and drove them away. They returned with colored glasses and found a sheet of salt from 6 to 18' inches thick. The Liverpool Salt Company erected a plant there and began operations. A great steam plow was devised to cut the salt field into blocks 6 feet square. The plow is supported by four wheels and has a powerful steel point which cuts a shallow furrow in the crystallized sur face. As the steam engine draws it through the snow-white substance the plow pulls up big clods and pushes them out on each side of the furrows. Indian boys follow with hoes, knocking and scraping these clods out of the furrows, and allowing the black, dirty water which oozes up from the springs below to flow through the furrows and moisten the earth underneath the big square blocks. These are then taken up and con veyed to a house where the salt is washed and dried and made ready for use. It is put through a dryer and grinder and comes out fine and free from other sub stances. It is said that the company has taken out 2,000 tons of salt a year for many years worth from $6 to J36 a ton. As fast as the salt crust is removed the wa ter, whoh comes up from the numerous little springs below, crystallizes and a new crust is formed. The labor problem was the greatest difficulty to be overcome at Salton. The heat which often reaches 140 during the summer, the terrible glare and the con stant thirst produced by the flying parti cles of salt, made it impossible for any white man to labor there. Japanese and Indians of the desert were employed. It was found that the Indian could labor all day under these terrible conditions and Indian labor proved the salvation of the Salton enterprise. The laborers drink great quantities of water and per spire freely, but, they keep stoically at their work all day long. The few white men who are compelled to stay at Salton to attend to the business get away as often as possible and go to Los Angeles and the coast. A peculiar feature cf the Colorado des ert is the sand blast of the San Gorgonio pass, and said to be the most powerful sand blast in the world. This pass forms a deep notch in the mountain chain. The atmosphere on the west side of this moun tain chain next to the Pacific is always more or less damp and cool. The air of the desert on the east side Qf the mountains becomes extremely hot in the summer and the inrush of air through the San Gorgonio pass as the hot air of the desert rises causes a rushing wind, which drives before it a constant sweep of the sharp, cutting sea sand. This sand is so sharp and is driven with such force that it erodes anything in its way. Bot tles thrown from the passing trains have the rough edges of their fragments ground smooth, and the telegraph poles are sawed and furrowed by this sand until rendered unfit for use. Heptune and the Mermaids ■“Now, girls,”' said Neptune, and his voice trembled with deep-sea emotion, r “we are up against it for fair.” With one voice the fair nymphs inquired what the matter was. “That submarine scheme of the Penn sylvania system. It’s a dreadful thing If railroads are to invade our watery do main.” “Oh, I don't know,’' retorted a pert young mermaid, “all we’ve got to do is to look out for the locomotive.” "That shows how little you know about the railroad business.” replied Neptune, with a sigh. “The most important thing is to look out for the conductors and en gineers.” [THIS BIG SLEEPING MIL AMP SET FURNITURE FREE.. ^ day, and w will mail 70a SO Package* to Mil at 10 eeata. When cold, •end na tt.OO, and we will ■end yon the most beautiful Dreued French Doll yon erer aw, direct from Eu rope, one-half yard In height, movable bisque head, lace-trimmed underwear, aweet pretty face, long golden hair, •leeping eyea, iomted body, ■Upper* and atockinga to take off. ihe hat and ailk-dniah dreas are the very height of faahkm. Girle, you will be delighted with it. A perfect beauty. Moat everybody buya flower aeeda. They “aell like hot cakea,” and you can earn these beautiful presents in one day. No money required in advance. Send for Seed a, •ell the 90 packages sent yon, •nd return ua SS.OO. Then we will send yep, direct to your e. all charges paid, noth the Jholl and Set _ off Fn mi taro orthlaWatch.i TJ J* My ALL ARE SATISFIED."U 8. JOHNSON, 419 N. State St., Indianan Ind.,write* na:—I had no trouble in ael your seeds. Every one was pleased with the ^ seeds. I shall want to sell some more next spring. ( LESLIE C. 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If you want a watch that will equal for time any Solid Gold Watch made, send ns your name & address at once & agree to sell only 8 boxes of our famous Vegetable Pills at *5 ct& a box. It’s the greatest rem edy on earth for Constipation, Indigestion & all stomach disorders & they sell like hot cakes. Don’t miss the chance of your life. Send us your order & we will send the 8 boxes by mail. When sold you send us the money & we will send you the WATCH with A GUARANTEE FOR 20 YEARS the same day money is received. There is no humbuggery about this. We are giving away these watches to quickly introduce our Remedy—& all we ask is that when you receive the watch you will show it to your friends. Hundreds have received watches from ns & are more than delighted with them. This is a glorious opportu nity to get a fine watch without paying a cent for it & you should - write at once. Address AMERICAN MEDICINE CO., b^hi. 47 Warren St.,New York City.