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SIXTH <PAGE •the SUNNY SOUTH ^ T5he Childerbridfi'e Mystery BY GUY BOOTH BY, author of "Dr. Nikola"The Beautiful White Devil." Etc. (Copyright, 1902.) SYNOPSIS OF INSTALLMENTS I TO VII—William Standerton, a successful colonist, and his two grown up children, (have decided to 'leave Australia and sor tie down in the Old Country. Just before their start* the son, Jim, is accosted by a “swagman,” who tells him to inform (his father that Richard Murbridge will j meet him in the morning. When Jim j delivers >;he message, his father se-:im!s greatly agitated, and although no harm comes of the meeting with Murbridge, whom Standerton acknowledges having known in previous years, both Jim and ills sister are rendered very uneasy. Chil- derbridge Manor becomes the English (home of the Standertons—an historic mansion with an army of ghotsts. Jim, out driving, runs over a dog and becomes fecquadnted with its mistress, Miss Decie, and her guardian, Abraham Burst!eld. The two young people in time fall In love with one anoiner, but Mr. Bursfield re fuses his consent. Jim encounters Rich ard Murbridge in the park. He forbids | him to see his father, but the latter, on j (hearing of it, sends f-or the man and they *lave a stormy interview. That even ing a fainting servant declares she has Been a ghost and the next morning AN il- liam Standerton is found dead in bed, Strangled. Suspicion fastens at once upon Murbridge, who, it is found, has left I for London. "The Black Dwarf" again I appears, frightening the inmates of the j hall. At the inquest a verdict of “mur- | der" is returned against a person or | persons unknown. Jim takes Helen Decie ; back to the Dower House, and is met by , Mr. Bursfield, who angrily forbids any . more, communication between the two and I refuses to state his reasons. Helen writes j Jim that whilst she sorrowfully aequi- j csces, she. will be true *to him to the end. j As Scotland Yard fails to unearth Wil- j liam Standerton's murderer, his son os- I Bays the task, aided by Terence O'Riley, | a former servant, who opportunely turns up from Australia. The two discover sev eral clews, but these prove fruitless. At last Scotland Yard reports that Murbridge (has sailed for Maderia. The same even ing Jim’s hansom nearly knocks a man down In Piccadilly—and that man happens to be. none other than Murbridge! • > ^ 1 f ' j CHAPTER EIGHT | EFORE Jim could recover from his astonishment at seeing the mart whom he had been led to believe was upon the hi&h seas, stand ing before him, the cabman had whipped up his horse once more, and they were half across the Circus. Springing to his feet, he pushed up the shutter, and bade the driver pull up as quickly as possible. Then, jumping from the vehicle, (he gave the. man the first coin he took from hiis pocket. “Did you see which way that fellow went?” he inquired. “Went away toward Regent street, 1 (believe,” answered the cabman. “It isn’t his fault he ain’t on the way to the ’ospi- tal now.” Jim waited to hear no more, but run ning back, made his way to the policeman lie had noticed standing beside the foun tain in the center of the Circus. "I suppose you saw the man who was so nearly knocked down by a cab a few minutes ago?” he inquired, scarcely able to speak for excitement. “I did,” the officer answered laconical ly. "'What about him?” “Only that you must endeavor to find him, and arrest him at once,” Jim re plied. "There is not a moment to be Oost. He may have got away by this •time.” "And he’s precious lucky if h-e has,” Baid the policeman. "Never saw a closer thing in my life.” “But don’t you hear me? You must find that man. Every second we waste 5s giving him the away.” “Come, come, there’s no such hurry! "What's he. done that yiou should be Vo anxious to get hold of him?” By this time Jim was nearly beside him self with rage at the other’s stupidity. "ThanJian murdered my father at Chil- derbridge Manor,” he went on. "I recog nized him instantly.” “Come, come, now,” said the policeman, •with what was plainly kindly intent. "You go along home, sir, and get to bed quietly. You’ll tell a different tale in the morning." After which, without another word, he ■walked away. "Well, of all the insane idiots in the world,” muttered Jim, “that fellow should 4 He held it up to the light <rvith a feeling of triumph. " Yes, it <was the picture he remembered, and better still, it was the .portrait of Richard Mur bridge" once,” said the official. “I suppose you are quite certain of the identity of the man you saw in Piccadilly Circus, Mr. Standerton?” "As certain as I am of anything,” Jim replied. "I had a full view of his face, and I am quite sure that 1 am not making a mistake. If only the cabman had pull ed up a few moments sooner, I might have been able to have stopped him. ”In that caise you should be able to give us some details icf his present personal appearance, which would afford us consid erable assistance in our search for him.” “He was wearing a black fel't hat. and a brown overcoat, the collar of which was turned up.” The officer made a note of these partic ulars, and promised that the Information should be dispersed In ail directions with out loss of time. Then, feeling that noth ing more could be done that nigh't, Jim bade him farewell and drove back to his hotel. Tn spite of the work he had done during the day, he was not destined to obtain a wink of sleep all night, hut tumbled and tossed, brooding continually over the chance he. had missed of secur ing his father’s murderer. If only the cabman had pulled up a mnmon't sooner, he might have been able to spring out and secure, Murbridge. Now his capture was as remote as ever; further, indeed, than if he. had been, as Robins supposed, on board the vessel hound for South Af rica. He had just finished his breakfast when Robins called to see him. "This is a nice sort of surprise you _ have been springing on us. sir," said the chance of getting | detective. r mean about yiou-r seeing Murbridge last night in Piccadilly Circus. I don’t know what to think of it.” ‘The only thing you can think of it lis that he is in London and not on board the mail boat as you imagined,” Jim replied. "You must have got upon a wrong scent again. Is there any further news of him this morning?” There was none when I left the Yard,” the other replied. "They are overhauling all the doss houses and shelters, and.ft is possible that we may have something to chronicle before long. When you think of the description we have of him—a man wearing a brown overcoat and a felt hat —it iis not very much to go upon. There must be hundreds of men dressed like that in London. If only be had a photo- come first. But I am not. going to be j Sraph of him it would make the labor balked. I’ll search for him myself.” He thereupon set off along Regent street, but before he hall gone half the length of the street, the folly of such a proceeding became apparent to him. He knew that Murbridge had seen him and, for this reason, would most likely betake Tiimseilf to the quiet of the back streets. To attempt to find him, therefore, under cover of darkness, and at such an hour, would be well nigh an impossibility. Then, another idea occurred to him. Hailing a cab he set off for Scotland Yard. On arrival there he handed in Ills card, and 5n due course wais received most courte ously by the chief officer on duty. He explained his errand, and in doing so ehowed the mistake under which Detective Sergeant Robins had been and was still in. coring. “He shall be communicated with at GOOD WORK. Proper Food Makes Marvelous Changes. Pro-videnee is sometimes credited with directing the footsteps by so simple a way as the reading of a food advertise ment. r A lady out in Shelbina, Mo., says. "About two years ago 1 was compelled to retire from my school teaching because I was completely broken down with ner vous prostration. "I suffered agony in my back. My hand3 and feet would swell up nights. I ■was in a dreadfully nervous condition, ir ritable, with a dull, heavy headache con tinually, had no appetite and could not digest anything if i tried. I was unable to remember what 1 read and was, of course, unfit for my work. "Some said I had consumption, others Bald dropsy. One day, as if by providence, J read the testimonial of a lady whose symptoms were much the same as mine, and she told of how Grape-Nuts Break fast Food had cured her, so 1 concluded to try it. “I left off the old-fashioned breakfast end began with Grape-Nuts, a little fruit and a cup of Postum Food Coffee. That •was 8 months ago and I have steadily im proved In both body and mind. Grape- Nuts Breakfast Food has done more for me than all the medicine 1 have ever taken, and I am now well again and able to return once more to my school duties and able to do anything necessary in my. mork. "My mind is clearer and my body Stronger than ever before. Please do not publish my name.” Name given by Pos- tum Co.. Battle Creek, Mich. a good deal easier.” This set Jim thinking. In the lumber room at Child-?rbridge there were, as he remembered, a number of cases contain ing books, photograph albums, etc., which his father had brought with him from Australia, but which had never yet been unpacked. He recalled the fact that his father had told him that he had been on intimate terms with Murbridge many years before. Was it not postsible, there fore, that among his collections there might be some portrait of the scoundrel they were so anxious to catch? He felt inclined to run down and turn the boxes over. AY hat was more, if he did so, he might chance to obtain an Interview with Helen. He explained his hopes with re gard to the photographs to the detective, who instantly agreed that it might be worth his while to make the search. “In that case I will go down by the 11 o’clock train, and If I discover anything, I will wire you and post it on to you at once.” “I can assure you It wow’d be an Inesti mable help to use in our search,” the other answered. "We should have some thing more definite to go upon then.” True to this arrangement, Jim, Alice and Terence returned to Chllderbridge by the morning train. A carriage met them at the station, and in they drove through the village. As they were drawing near the park gates, a little cry from Aliif- at tracted Jim's attention. She had caught a glimpse of Helen who was approaching the high road from a by lane. In a mo ment the carriage was stopped, and Jim alighted, and hastened toward her. “My darling," he cried, “I never count ed on having the happinelss of seeing you so soon.” “But what brings you back today, Jim?” she asked. “From your letter I gathered that I should not see you for at least a week. Nothing is wnong, I hope?” She scanned his face with anxious eyes, and as she did so it seemed to him that she, herself, wais not looking at all well. “Nothing is the matter,” he answered. ”AA r e have merely come down to try to find some photographs that would help us in our search. But, Helen, you do not look well. Your face frightens me.” ‘‘I am quite well,” she replied. "I have been a little worried lately about my ■grandfather, but do not let us talk of that now. I must say how-do-you-do to Alice.” She accordingly appr.giched the vehicle, and held out her hand to her friend. They conversed together for a few moments, and then Alice proposed that Helen should return with them to the hall to lunch, but this being, for more reasons than one, impossible, it was arranged that Jim should see her home across the park, a proposal which, you may be sure, he was not slow to take advantage of. They accordingly watched the carriage pass through the lodge gates, and then them selves set out foir the Dower Houise. As they walked Jim told her of the Hl-suc- oosis tha't had. attended his mission to London. "Hut, Helen,” he said at last, os they approached 'the house, “you have not told me what it is that is worrying you about your grandfather. I hope he has not been making you unhappy?” She hung her head but did not answer. ‘‘Ah, I can see that he has,” he con tinued. “I suppose it has something to do with me. I wonder whether I should lie right if I hazarded a guess that Sir. Bursfield has been trying again to force you into giving me up? Should I be right. Helen?” "I am n.frnid In a measure you would,” she replied, but with some diffidence. “A'on may be quite sure, however, that whatever ho may do it will not influence me. Y’ou are aware how truly I love you?” ”A'es, I know that,” he answered, “and I am quite content to trust you. I know that nothing Mr. Bursfield can say will induce you to do as he proposes.” "\Yo must hope for the heist,” she an swered. “But. oh, Jim, I wish he were not so determined in his opposition to our marriage! Sometimes I feel that I am acting not only like a traitor to him, but to you as well.” “That yiou could never be,” Jim return ed. "However, keep up a good heart, dear, and you may be sure all will come right In the end. In the future we shall look back upon these little troubles and' wonder why we made such a fuss about, them.” A few minutes later they reached the gates leading into the ground of the Dower Houise. Here Jim bade his sweet heart goodby and, having arranged an other meeting for the morrow, set off on his walk to the Manor House. That af ternoon, accompanied by Alice, he made his way 'to the lumber room, on the top story of the house, in which the boxes he had come down to overhaul had been placed. How well he could recall the day in Australia on which his father had packed them. Xte little imagined then that the next time they would be opened would be In an attempt 'to find a portrait of the same kind father's, murderer. The first box was found to contain unimpor tant papers connected with the dead man's various properties In Australia. The second contained a variety of ac count books, and odds and ends of several kinds, with specimens or ore, wool and other products of the Island Continent. It was not until they had opened the third box that they bagan to think 'they were on the right track. In this were a ■few engravings, perhaps half a dozen sketch books filled with pen and ink drawings by Jim's mother, upward of a hundred books, between thirty and forty years old, and at the bottom a large al bum filled with photographs, each of which looked out npon a forgetful world from a floral setting. Jim took it to a window, where he sat down upon a box to examine it. To my thinking there is nothing sadder than an old al bum. AA'hat memories it recalls of long forgotten friends; as one liooks upon the faded pictures, how clearly the old scenes (some of which one would give anything to be able to blot out from their recollec tion) rise before one. On the first page was a photograph of William Standerton himself, taken when he way a young man. His coat was of a strange cut, his trousers were of the peg top description, while a magnificent pair of dundreary whiskers tSerrorated his manly face. AVith a sigh Jim turned the page, and came upon a portrait of his mother, taken in her wedding dress. Then followed a long succession of relatives and personal friends, each clad in the eame fashion, and nearly all taken in the same constrained attitude. But. examine each picture as he would, no representa tion of Murbridge could he discover. ‘‘Well, I'm afraid that's all7* said Jim. as he replaced the album in his box. “I am disappointed, though I cannot say that I hoped to be very successful. I must write to Robins ai id tell him that I can find nothing.” Having relocked the boxes they de scended to the ha 11 once more. It wais growing dark, and the dressing gong had already sounded. 1 They accordingly sep arated, and wenJ: to their respective rooms. Jim was] more disappointed by the failure of hi* search than he cared to admit. A “It would be of ^.Inestimable value,” he said to himself, "to have a portrait of him just now.” j He had just finlslf ed his toilet when an idea struck him, ^and he stopped and stern and unusual} was it. Then, drawing closed eyes. “By Jove," he <;ald. *‘I do believe I’ve hit it. I think r. know where there is a portrait of him.”'. His brain recalled a scene that had taken place at Gvndawurra one winter’s evening, when be ‘was a little chap of 12, and Alice only a, : girl of 10. The lamp had been lighted,, and to amuse the chil dren before they -*-ent to bed, their father •had promised a (>rlze to whichever one of the pair should) recognize and describe by name the greater number of the por traits In the very. - album he had been looking 'through .hat afternoon. Jim re membered how on that occasion he had chanced upon certain carte de vlsite, showing a tall young man leaning, hat in hand, against a marble pillar. "AA'ho iis this, fatihrr?" Jim had in quired, for he was not able to recognize the individual portrayed in the picture. "Do not ask me,” said his father in a tone chat the children never forgot, so stern nr, » unusual was It. Then, drawing | the portrait from the page, he placed It | in the'locket at the-end of the book. Af ter 'iihac the game was recommenced, hut was played with less vigor than before. | "I wonder if it could have been Muy bridge,” said Jim. "I cannot remember my father ever to have expressed such a dislike for anyone else save that man. After dinner I’ll go up and endeavor to find it. It wal* there for many years, for I can recall how I used to creep into the drawing room and peep at it on the slv. wondering what sort of villainy he had committed that was sufficient to prevent his nam° being mentioned to us. Poor father, it is certain that he was not de ceived in him after all. Throughout dinner that evening hi.? mind dwelt on the remembrance of that scene at Gundawurra, and as soon as they rose from the table, he begged Alice to excuse him and went up stairs, candle in hand, to recommence hils search. He left his sister in the drawing room, and the household were at supper in the servants' hall, so that, so far as the disposition of the house was concerned, he had all the upper floors to htmse.lf. Entering the lum ber room, he knelt down and unlocked the box which contained the album. To take the book from the box and to turn to the pocket in question was the work of a moment. It had been placed there for the purpose of holding loose photographs, and It extended the whole width of the cover. AVith a half fear 'that it might not be contained therein, Jim thrust his hand into the receptacle. He was mot to be disappointed, however, for a card was cer tainly there. He withdrew It and held it up to the light with a feeling of triumph. Yes, it was the picture he remembered, and better still it was the portrait of Richard Murbridge. There could he no mistake about that; though it was taken when the latter was a young man, Jim recognized his enemy at one.?. There was the same crafty look In hlis eyes, the same carping expression about the mouth. The man who had been so nearly knocked down by the cab on the previous even ing was the same person, who, in the picture, posed himself so gracefully be side the marble pillar. “This must go to Robins tonight,” said Jim. “Then copies of it can be distrib uted broadcast. It will be strange after that if we do not lay hands upon him.” So saving he replaced the album in the box. locked the latter and then put 'tihe photograph in his pocket, and prepared to return to Alice once more. As he de scended the stairs, he blew the candle out, for the hanging lamp in the hall below gave sufficient light for him to see his way. He was only a few "steps from the bottom when his attention was attracted. It resembled the creaking of a rulsty hinge. The sound came from the further end of the gallery. He had just time to wonder what had occasioned it, when to his amazement he became aware of a little black figure passing swiftly along the corridor in Vie direction of the fur ther wing. A moment later it had van ished, and he was left to place such con struction as he pleased upon what he had seen. For a space, during which a man might have counted twenty, he stood as if rooted to the ispot, scarcely able to be lieve the evidence of his senses. "Good God! The Black Dwarf again,*' he muttered to himself. “I must find out what it means." Then he set off in pursuit. (To Be Continued.) Too Much For Reuben. “Ye3 sir,” said Uncle Reuben, as the graphophone stopped, “that’s mighty good —mighty good!” “Just wait awhile,” said the youth as he slipped on another record, "and I’ll ex plain it to you.” "Oh, I understand it all right,” respond ed Reuben. "Understand it all except one thing.” "What’s that?” asked the youth. “Well,” answered Reuben, with an abashed grin, “I understand how these sleight-o’-hand fellers pull big rabbits and pigeons out o' little hats, but I'll be danged if I understand how you git a full brass band In that box.” Tragedy at Holmwood w; E were a large house party at - - Holmwood that winter, numbering eighteen guests, besides the f a mll y> “jjj the two Anstruther girls-Mary an Evelyn-were the life and soul of us AVe had gathered round the big wo “ ,i ’ the old-fashioned hall, and settled down In the deepest armchairs and most com fortable cosy corner seats we could find, to listen to Captain AVilbraham s story. “Her name," he ‘egan. “was lsobel and she was the only daughter of old Sir Fierce, whese portrait hangs over there. "Sir Pierce, so rumor says, was every whit as forbidding and as unpleasant an old gentleman as his picture makes him. He had lost iis wife after one short year of mairied life; and there were stories of injustice to a cousin, a Captain AA ilbra- bam, who had loved the Lady Isobel, and told her so, had been turned out of the house by l is uncle, and who was now somewhere In the backwoods of America, trying to forget his lovely cousin, while she moped at home. "One evening Sir Pierce called his daughter to him and told her that he- was obliged to set out for London. “ 'Bjfore going, Isobel,' he said to her, T must tell you that I have heard stories of the return of that young scoundrel Ralph’—Ralph was the captain. ‘I hear, in fact, that he Intends returning here, and trying to get speech with you, in : pite of my prohibition. Remember, now, that, if he should come In my absence, ycu are to iefuse to see him. If you clo see him I shall hear of it. and you are no longer a daughter of mine.’ "And, with a glance at his trembling daughter from underneath those beetling gray eyebrows of ins. Sir Pierce stamped out of this hull in which we are now sit ting, called for his horse, and went. "Poor Ladv Isobel had some reason for in r trembling, for while her father spoke to her her hand was pressed tightly upon a tiny letter nest ling underneath her broad silk sash, in which letter her cousin. Captain Ralph, told her of his safe return to England, and prom ised that, come what would, he would see her that evening. “Barely an hoar after Sir Pierce’s departure Lady Iso- Her room was the staircase, next rrom at the head of th to your room, Miss Evelyn. “Lady Isobel walked up and down the room nervously, excitedly, pausing every now and then near the window, listening. Presently she heard the crunch of a man’s heel on the gravel underneath it, and a moment later the head of Captain Ralph appeared, framed in the ivy. Isobel opened the window, he sprang into the room, and tly married lovers were in an irstant clasped in one another's arms. For—and this Sir Pierce did not know, well informed though he had been—Raiph and his fair cousin had been married secretly before the young man left his native shores; so that if anything had happened to the captain while he was abroad, his fortune—a considerable one, far exceeding that of old Sir Pierce him self—should become Isobars, iind make her independent of her father. "The conversation of the cousins last ed far into the night, and three was striking from the old clock on the turret when Captain AA'ilbraham kissed his young bride one long, last time, and pre pared to leave by the window, as he had come. " 'In three days, dearest,’ he said to the weeping girl, ‘I will return and claim you from your harsh, unnatural father.’ “ ‘That you may do now, If you have the courage!’ said a grating voice from the doorway, and Sir Pierce—for it was he —strode lnt6 the room, and slashed his daughter's husband across the face with his riding whip. “In another moment the two men,*young and old, were engaged in a struggle which one at least of them would not survive, for there was bitter hatred in the hearts of both, and both forgot the presence of the fair young girl, who, in her white chamber robe, cowered in the corner of the room, and watched her father fight ing for the life blood of her husband. "The fight did not last long. The cap tain, a better swordsman than his uncle, younger and more active, too, tried to disarm Sir Pierce; but a sudden move ment of the elder man sealed his own fate, and the father of the Lady Iso bel fell with her husband’s sword point in his side. “ ’One word—one word, Ralph, before I dieT' he whispered. And the young man bent over him. ’Lower!’ gasped the dying man, ‘lower!’ And as his son in law stooped down to him Sir Pierce struck upward with a sud den movement, using a. dagger which had lain concealed in his left sleeve, and Cap tain "Wilbraham, stricken traitorously to the heart, fe}l upon the body of his father in law. ' “Poor Lady Isobel, who until that moment had cowered in her corner, almost unconscious with fear and horror, gave one loud shriek, pressed one long, despairing kiss upon the up turned face of her dead husband, whose blood besmeared her bedro'be, and, with a rush, threw herself headlong from the window. Her shriek aroused the house, and two days later three corpses were carried to the old graveyard of Holm wood church, where all the AVilbrahams lie buried. Lady Isobel was burled there Beside 'her husband; but her spirit can not re-st, and on every anniversary of the tragedy—some say, indeed, on other nights as'well—Lady Isobel visits her old bed room just as the turret clock strikes three. “She goes to the corner from which she watched the fatal struggle which end ed in the deaths of her husband and father; she tries, as she tried on that night long years ago, to shriek for help, but no sound comes from her lovely lips. “Those who have seen the ghost—and I knew many who ha ( ve done so—have seen the stains of blood upon her cham ber robe, and say that, after striving pitifully to call for hlep, the ghost of Lady Isobel herself did o-n the night of her death—glides to the window, throws herself from it, and disappears. Then sometimes—not always—a long, loud wall is heard from the garden, and next morn ing th? window of the bed room is found open, although it was securely closed and bolted the evening before. “Oh, you may smile, Miss Anstruther” —for Miss Anstruther was laughing at the solemnity with which Captain AVil- bnaham was finishing his story—“but I can assure you that I would not sleep in Lady Isobel’s bed room for all the wealth of the Rothschilds!” “I would for less than that!” laughed Mary Anstruther. “And, what is more, I will!” TWO Everybody laughed—excepting Miss Simpkins, who declared that “those An struther girls were always trying to put themselves for ward and make peo ple talk about them”—and most of us tried to dissuade Miss Anstruther from sleeping in the room. She would not be persuaded, though, and at about 11, after a big fire had been light ed, and the old-fash ioned room had been made as comforta ble as possible, we all escorted the ob stinate young lady to it, and bade her goodnight. “Goodnight, and pleasant dreams to all of you; and you may look for a full, true, and particular account of Lady Isobel at breakfast time tomorrow!” cried Mary Anstruther gayly. “Nothing ghostly about the room at all events,” laughed Mary, as she began un dressing. Mary Anstruther was not a sentimental girl, and the story of Lady Isobel had not particularly impressed her. As she undressed by the glow of the big wood fire her thoughts ran far more upon the probabilities of some of the guests at Holmwood trying to play ghost than upon any possibility of an actual ghost appearing. "AA'hether they come or not. I shall not wait for them, at all events,” she said. And within five minutes after she had I jumped Into the large, red-curtained bed I Miss Alary Anstruther was a3leep. J th She was awakened by a fumbling a scratching at the door, und sat up !: tening. The room was not altogethi dark, for the fire still threw a dim, certain light over the room. “Somebody evidently means to have i joke with me,” she thought. “Well, It them come.” The door opened very slowly, and white figure glided into the center of fir. room. Its back was turned from the bed and it seemed to be gazing into the cor ner' where the fight between Sir Pier, and Captain AA'ilbraham had tak place. “I'll give my visitor two mlnutr-s mor- the room,” was Mary Anstru::. ternal comment. “If she’s a ghost th and then turn her neck-and-crop will 'be nothing to lay hold of: but s: won’t like her reception! and will go. she’s real flesh and blood, out sh" g. just the same, and then the laugh v. be on my side tomorrow.” The white apparition turned slowly : ward the bed, and Mary Anstruther s that the white bed robe was in?,! w hloffd. There was blood, too, on t! parition’s face t to which it p >int' I. its hands were held out to the bed peallngly, as though It would speak, t could not voice the words. "Tf the fire were only a 11 might see the face," said v seif. "However, ghost or no you go, my beauty!” She said these last words aloud, f. r in spite of herself, she was feel a little worked upon | .lute silence of the scene. Just then the turret-clock - 1 “No, that's a little too cried Mary. “Come. Mrs. Ghost who you are, or off with you! I dm ' want to get out of bed into th-? If you won't answer me I rntist d ■ Again those hands were held it. peallngly; again the figo make a wild effort to spe ik—A! try a - struther even nn-.v thought she saw : • blood-stained . , form the one v ! T 'JIelp!" but light was to 1 - tinct for her to quite certain. A 1 then the y<. : g : sprang out of h> 1, seized her un come visitor by shoulders, w . , were warm, anl ! , ' If! 1 blood, and, without another word, t: her out into the passage, and closed 1 I locked the bed room door. Th : 1 - ghost stumbled and fell as she n is p ed from the room. "My Lady Isobel will be a little b- 1 tomorrow morning!" laughed Mary struther. And in five minutes sd? 3 asleep again. Next morning, when she woke, i "Pooh!” she said. "This is carry: found blood marks on \$ • hands, joke a bit too far! However, we see at breakfast time.” A long, loud shriek for help nr ms 1 all just as the gong for breakfast so !- ed. AA'ith an uneasy sens? of soni- horrible, we all rushed down the pa — to Alary Anstruther’s room—the ha : room, in the story of which, as a ir: of fact, hut few of us believed, and w : we had left the laughing girl the before. The door of it was open, and on knees upon the threshold was Mary . struther, with the blood-stained, turned face of a golden-haired girl in 1 white bed robe on her lap. "Oh, help me, help me!” cried p Mary. "It's Evelyn—my sister Ev , I She came in in the night, and tried speak to me. but could not; aqd I—C thought of the story about Lady 1 dad- thought some of you were playing ri upon me—and I turned her out of ' : ? room! She won't answer me! And quite cold and stiff! Evelyn! Evelyn! help me, somebody—for God’s sake i. me!” AA'ilbraham put his arm round r Alary, and lifted her from the grot Dr. Furber kneeled down beside her ter. "A broken blood vessel,” he said, .\ I he raised his head again. “The po has been dead at least four hours.” (Note—The. breaking of a blood v frequently destroys the power of sp- Ping Pong Is Capturing the Heart of Sporting Jimeric HOSE who Indulge in Indoor winter sports have added another game to their al ready long list. A craze has suddenly developed for ping pong. The prominent golfers and lawn tennis players are In a great measure accountable for the popularity of the new grime in which the essen tial features of lawn tennis are conspicuous. In fact, there is little difference be tween the two games, except that one is played on a table indoors and the other outdoors on a lawn. Ping pong, or pom pom, as it will prob ably be called In this country, owing to the copyright on the game of ping pong, may be played on a dining table, though there are tables especially for the game, and is placed with a celluloid ball. The game requires some little practice to learn with how much power to strike the ball, but ten minutes or so Is sufficient, as a rule, to enable the player to keep the ball within the proper space. The rackets are made of vellum and the name of the game is probably derived from the sound of the ball striking the racket, which sounds as much like ping pong as like anything else. The game sprang into immediate pop ularity on its Introduction In England, for it Is really an English game, that played on this side being a slight variation. Since the introduction of the game in England several other variations have been ran brought out, each with a different name, but with little difference in manner and method of play. So popular did it prove that a table tennis association was form ed in London last month, and a month earlier a big tournament was held there. When the popularity of the game was demonstrated on the other side of the water it was soon brought to this coun try. As in almost all other English games the American players made some changes in it, and pom ppm, or table tennis, is the result. This game is now being played in many parts of the country, but to the Dedham Club belongs the credit of hold ing the first tournament, although the game was played at the Brookline Coun try Club some ironths ago. Instead of playing on a table without lines, the American game is played on a table with the tennis lines drawn in white, one-quarter of an inch wide, and two services are allowed In the game in stead of one. The scoring has also been revised to correspond to the lawn tennis method, instead of 20 points up; and some of the best players have also brought volleying Into the game. As a rule the tables are of plain, dark stained wood, without covering, 3 f^et by 9 on the surface, and 2 feet 0 inches high. The net is 6 3-4 inches high, and any racket may be used, although a regu lation racket will soon be established. Then there are tables with a covering such as is used on billiard tables, but on these a large covered ball is used and stringed rackets. The beginner usual ly prefers the uncovered board, but many of the better players are taking to the covered tuble. Nearly all of the prominent clubs in this section have introduced the game Into their club houses, and a tournament is now going .on at the Brookline River- dale Casino. Another large tournament in which the best tennis and ping pong players of this part of the country will participate will be held at the Country Club on the 22d instant. This will be an Invitation affair, and will probably de velop into the most important tournament held up to that time. Dr. Dwight, the father of American ten nis, is one of the most enthusiastic ping gong players in this country, and has a specially built table in his home on Bea con street, where a number of games are played daily. Richard D. Sears, the first American tennis champion, and Fred H. Hovey, another former American ten nis champion, are also enthusiasts, and the latter may often be seen playing in a AVashington street store against some equally promising player. Air. Hovey Is, perhaps, one of the best players here abouts, and has already won two of the tournaments. Another noted tennis player who has taken up th* game is Meals C. AA'right, and the first tournament held here re solved Itself Into a battle between Wright and Hovey for the championship. In New York and some of its suburbs the craze for the game appears to be even greater than In this city, and the Orange Tennis Club has already held tournaments in which some of the best tennis players have figured. Holeome .War_d appears to be one of the best play ers in New Jersey, and to be err. ■ strong in tennis and pom pom. AA'ith ground strokes only in the g 1 ? it is only possible to score a through an opponent's error, but li volleying Included many new com! tions were introduced by Air. Ward. 1 clean aces were frequently scored b as he is particularly eleyer at killing ■? ball with quick volleys. Pom pom has also been taken u; tensively in AA'ashington. and the abilities are that it will soon be established in all of the tennis ■ the country, as an effort will be m. to have it recognized by. the Na - i -1 Dawn Tennis Association. The establishment of table tennis t i Country Club is primarily due to f) : .- F. Brown, Jr., who, during a \ England a year ago, was captivated the game. He brought back a outfit and tin 1 game won instant with many of the members who ha.I lighted in t.he more strenuous garni squash. Among the ni'iri’ td< at Clyde Park, the following may b tioned: George F. Brown, Jr., Arthur ? Stedman, Geoffrey Ai. \v?. ... ,. Graeme Houghton, Jr., Robert Full? r _ AA’hile the new game occupies a proa - nont place in the list of sports at Country Club, it is not thought it u rival In popularity squash. The Vlub hat finely appointed squash courts, which e of comparatively new construction, both the men and women have t : . kindly to this sport. At the Riverdale Casino the game I jumped Into great favor. The tournanie of the past week has developed some \ ■ skilful ping pong at the eost-y Brook: Casino. This was the first tournament ever held in Brook” ' a:, the future of the game is su e ... this club. Among the best players at the Ca~ 1 are Sam Lewis, a prominent Han : athlete a few years ago; Lincoln Gra :, Chauncey M. Seaver, the lawn t a is player; Ben Sabine, the old-time I • call player, and Don AI. Hill. There are at least twenty-five members of the 1 1- sino who bid fair to take rank with t.;c best ping pong players in New England. Jin Easy Job A certain member of parliament has expressed a pronounced disbelief in mo;. of the wonderful tales told of the pre cocity of children. He contends that th? stories are usually manufactured by vdi ;• persons, with the sole object of making amusing reading. Once in a while, how ever, his theory receives a setback y something in his own experiences, and he confesses that he has come across some genuine humor and some uncon scious witticisms. One such was brought to his notice recently. A Sunday school examination was in progress, and the examining visitor put this question: “NA'hat did Aloses do for a living while he was with Jethro?” Following a long silence, a little voice piped up from the back of the room: “Please, sir, he married one of Jethro's daughters.”