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WLOUIS JOSEPH VANCE
AUTHOR OP “THE BRASS BOWb.” ETC. )
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<O/>rfUGHT BY LOWS UO-SLPH VAJYC£
BYNOPSIS.
D*vfd Amber, starting for a duck-shoot
ing visit with his friend, Qualn, comes up
on a young lady equestrian who has been
dismounted by her horse becoming fright
ened at the sudden appearance in the road
of a burly Hindu. He declares he Is
Behar! Lai Chatterit, “The appointed
mouthpiece of the Bell," addresses Amber
as a man of high rank and pressing a
mysterious little bronze box, "The To
ken," into his hand, disappear* in the
wood. The girl calls Amber by name.
He In turn addresses her as Miss Sophie
£*frell. daughter of Col. Farrell of the
British diplomatic service In India and
idsltlng the Qualns. Several nights later
Jne Qualn home is burglarized and the
bronze box stolen. Amber and Qualn go
Bunting on an island and become lost and
Amber Is left marooned. He wanders
about, finally reaches a cabin and rec
ognizes as Its occupant an old friend
named Rutton. whom he last met In Kng
•and. and who appears to be In hiding.
When Miss Farrell Is mentioned Rutton is
strangely agitated. Chatterjl appears
and summons Rutton to a meeting of a
mysterious body. Rutton seizes a revol
ver and dashes after Chatterjl. He re
wildly excited, says he haa killed
xhv Hindu, takes poison, and when dying
aaka Amber to go to India on a mysteri
ous errand. Amber decides to leave at
once for India. On the way he sends a
letter to Mr. Labertouche, a scientific
Mend In Calcutta) by a quicker route.
I.pon arriving he finds a note awaiting
»um. It directs Amber to meet his friend
ft a certain place. The latter tells him
he knows his mission Is to get Miss Far
* -. out the country. Amber attempts
to dispose of the Token to a money-len
der, Is mistaken for F.utton and barely
•scapes being mobbed. A message from
Labertouche causes him to start for Dar
jeeling; on the way he meets Miss
Farrell, and at their Journey's end asks
her to become his wife. A Hindu con
ducts Amber to a secret place, and In the
£resence of a beautiful woman who mls
ikes him for Rutton. Later Amber Is
drugged. The Hindus plot rebellion, and
at Labertouche’s Instigation Amber re
turns to the woman Narainl to discover
the secret of the conspiracy. He learns
they would make him their king.
CHAPTER XVIII. \(Contlnued).
Again he failed to answer. Some
where near him he heard a slight
noise as of a man moving Impatiently;
and then a whisper: “Respond, thou
fool!”
“Art thou come, O chosen of the
Gateway?” the bell-voice rang.
“I ... lam come," Amber man
aged to reply.
“Hear ye!” rang the bell. “Hear
ye, O lords and rulers In Medhyama!
O children of my Gateway, hear ye
well! He is come! He stands upon
the threshold of the Gateway.”
A great drum roared like the crack
of doom; and Amber’s jaw dropped.
*\>r In the high roof of the temple a
six-foot slab had been noiselessly
Withdrawn, and through It a cold shaft
f moonlight fell, cutting the gloom
like a gigantic rapier, and smote with
Its immaculate radiance the true
Gateway of Swords.
Not six paces from him It leaped
out of the darkness In an Iridescent
sheen; an arch a scant ten feet in
height, and In span double the width
of a big man’s shoulders, woven across
like a weaver’s frame with ribbons of
pale Are. But the ribbons were of
Steel —steel blades, sharp, bright,
gleaming. With their pommels cun
ningly affixed so that their points
touched and interlaced, yet swung
free, they lined the piers of the arch
from base to span and all the grace
ful sweep of the lntrados, a curtain of
shimmering, trembling steel, barring
the way to the mystery beyond. Which
was—darkness.
“O ye swords!” belled the voice.
, . , “O ye swords that have known
no dishonor! O ye swords that have
sung In the grasp of my greatest!
Swords of Jehangar, Akbar, Alamgir!
Swords of Alludin, Humayun, Shah
Jehan! Swords of Timur-Leng, Arung
zeb, Rao Rutton! . .
The Invocation seemed Intermina
ble. Amber recognized almost every
name noted In the annals and legends
Of Hindustan. . . .
“Hearken, Omy swords! He, thy
Chosen, prayeth for entry! What Is
thy welcome?”
One by one the blades began to
shiver, clashing their neighbors, until
the curtain of steel glimmered and
glistened like phosphorescence In a
Bummer sea, and the place was filled
with the music of their contact; and
through their clamor boomed the bell:
“O my chosen!" Amber started and
held himself firmly In hand. “Look
well, look well! Here Is thy portal to
kingship and glory!”
He frowned and took a step forward
as If he would throw himself through
the archway; for he had suddenly re
membered with compelling vividness
that Sophia Farrell was to be won
only by that passage. But as. he
moved the swords clattered afresh and
swung outwards, presenting a bristle
of points. And he stopped, while the
voice, Indifferent and remote as al
ways, continued to harangue him.
“If thy heart, O my chosen, be clean,
unsullied with fear and guile; if thy
faith be the faith of thy fathers and
ghy honor rooted In love of thy land;
If thou hast faith in the strength of
ithy hands to hold the reins of empire
. . . enter, having no fear.”
i “Trick-work,” he told himself. He
set his teeth with determination.
“Hope they don’t see fit to cut me to
pieces on suspicion. Here goes.”- He
moved forward with a firm step until
ills bosom all but touched the points.
Instantaneously, with another clash
pa of cymbals, the blades were de
selected and returned to their first po
sition, closing the way. He hesitated.
jThen, “That shan’t stop me!" he said
ithrough his teeth, and pushed forward,
iheart in mouth. He breasted the cur
tain and felt it give; the blades yfald
ed Jealously, closing round his body
like cold, caressing arms; he felt their
chill kisses on his cheeks and hands,
even through his clothing he was con
scious of their clinging, deadly touch.
Abruptly they swung entirely free,
leaving the entrance clear, and he was
drawing a free breath when the moon
glare showed him the swords returned
to position with the speed of light.
He jumped for his life and escaped
being slashed to pieces by the barest
Inch. They swung to behind him;
and again the drum roared, while afar
there arose a furious, eldritch wailing
of conches. Overhead the opening
disappeared and the light was shut
out. In darkness as of the Hall of
Eblis the conches were stilled and
the echoes ebbed Into a silence that
held sway for many minutes ere again
the bell spoke.
“Stretch forth thy hand."
Somewhat shaken, Amber held out
an open palm before him. Then out
of nothingness something plopped Into
Amber’s hand and his fingers closed
convulsively about it. It was a hand,
very small, small as a child’s, gnarled
and hard as steel and cold as Ice.
Without any forewarning two heavy
hands gripped him, one on either
shoulder, and he was forced to his
knees. At the same Instant, with a
snapping crackle a spurt of blue flame
shot down from the zenith, and where
it fell with a thunderclap a dazzling
glare of emerald light shot up breast
high.
To his half-blinded eyes It seemed,
for a time, to dance suspended In the
air before him. A vapor swirled up
from It, a thin cloud, luminous. By
degrees he made out its source, a
small, brazen bowl on a tripod.
In front of him he could see noth
ing beyond the noiselessly wavering
flame. But presently a hand appeared,
as If by magic, above the bowl —a
hand, bony, brown and long of finger,
that seemed attached to nothing—and
cast something like a powder Into the
fire. There followed a fizz and puff of
vapor, and a strong and heavy gust of
Incense was wafted Into Amber’s face.
Again and again the hand appeared,
sprinkling powder in the brazier, un
til the smoke clouded the atmosphere
with its fluent, eddying coils.
The gooseflesh that had pricked out
oh Amber’s skin subsided, and his
qualms went with It “Greek fire burn
ing iqpthe bowl,” he explained the phe
nomenon; “and a native with his arm
wrapped to the wrist in black Is feed
ing it. Not a bad effect, though.”
It was, perhaps, as well that he had
not been deceived, for there was a
horror to come that required all his
strength to face. He became con
scious that something was moving be
tween him and the brazier —something
which he had incuriously assumed to
be a piece of dirty cloth left there
carelessly. But now he saw It stir,
squirm, and upend, unfolding Itself
and lifting its head to the leaping
flame; an immense cobra, sleek and
white as ivory, its swelling hood as
large as a man’s two hands, with a
binocular mark on it as yellow as topaz
and with vicious eyes glowing like
twin rubies In Its vile little head.
Amber’s breath clicked in his throat
and he shrank back, rising; but this
Instinctive move had been provided
against and before his knees were
fairly off the rocky floor hs was forced
down again by the hands on his shoul
ders. He was unable to take his eyes
from the monster, and though terror
such as man Is heir to lay cold upon
his heart, he did not again attempt to
stir.
There was no sound. Alone and un
disturbed the bleached viper warmed
to Its dance with the pulsing flame,
turning and twisting, weaving and
writhing In its Infernal glare. . . .
“Hear ye, 0 my peoples!”
Amber Jumped. The voice had
seemed to ring out from a point di
rectly overhead.
He looked up and discovered above
him, vague in the obscurity, the out
lines of a gigantic bell, hanging mo
tionless. The green glare, shining on
Its rim and partly illuminating its
empty hollow (he saw no clapper) re
vealed the sheen of bronze of which
it was fashioned.
Out of its immense bowl, the voice
rolled like thunder:
“Hear ye, 0 my peoples!”
A responsive murmur ascended from
the company round the walls:
“We hear! We hear, O Medhyama!”
“Mark well this man, O children of
my Gateway. Mark well! Out of ye
all I have chosen him to lead thee in
the work of healing; for I thy mother,
I Medhyama, I Bharuta, I the body
from which ye are sprung, call me by
whatever name ye know me—l am laid
low with a great sickness. . . .
Yea, I am stricken and laid low with
a sickness.”
In the brazier the flame leaped high
and subsided, and with it the cobra
leaped and sank low upon its coils.
“I, thine old mother, have called ye
together to help in my healing. From
my feet to my head I am eaten with
pestilence; yea, I am devoured and
possessed by the evil. Even of old
was It thus with thy mother; long
since she complained of the Plague
that is Scarlet—moaned and cried out
and turned in her misery. . . . But
ye failed me. Then my peoples were
weaklings and their hearts all were
craven; the Scarlet SMI dismayed
them; they fled from its power and
left it to batten on me in my sick
ness.”
A deep groan welled In uncounted
throats and resounded through the
cavern.
“WUI ye fall me again, O my chil
dren?"
"Nay, nay, O our mother!”
“Too long have I suffered and been
patient In silence. Now I must be
cleansed and made whole as of old
time; yea, I must be purged altogeth
er and the evil cast out from me. It
is time. ... Ye have heard, ye
have answered; make ready, for the
day of the cleansing approacheth.
Whet thy swords for the days of the
healing, for my cleansing can be but
by steel. Yea, thy swords shall do
away with the evil, and' the land shall
run red with the blood of Bharuta, the
blood of thy mother; It shall run to
the sea as a river, bearing with It the
Red Evil. So and no otherwise shall
I, thine old mother, be healed and made
whole again.”
Amber was watching the serpent—
dazed and weary as If with a great
need of sleep. Even the Balvos of
shouts came to him as from a great
distance. To the clangor of the bell
alone he had become abnormally sen
sitive; every fiber of his being shud
dered, responsive to Its weird nuances.
It returned to its solemn and stately
Intoning.
"Out of ye all have I chosen and
fixed upon one who Bhall lead ye.
Through his shall my strength be
made manifest, my will be made
known to my peoples. His must ye
serve and obey; to him must ye bow
down and be humble. Say, are ye
pleased? Will ye have him, my chil
dren?”
Without an Instant's delay a cry
of ratification rang to the roof. "Yea,
O our mother! him we will serve and
obey, to him bow down and be
humble.”
The voice addressed itself directly
to the kneeling man. He stiffened and
roused.
“Thou hast heard of the honor we
confer upon thee —I Medhyama, thy
mother, and these my children, thy
brothers. Ye shall lead and rule in
Bharuta. Are ye ready?”
Half hypnotized, Amber opened his
mouth, hut no words came. His chin
dropped to his breast.
"Thy strength must be known to my
peoples; they must see thee put to the
proof thy courage, that they may know
thee to be the man for their. . . .
Ye are ready?”
He was unable to move a finger.
“Stretch out thine arms!”
He shuddered and tried to obey.
The voice rang Imperative.
“Stretch forth thine arms for the
testing!” v
Somehow, mechanically, he succeed
ed In raising his arms and holding
them rigid before him. Alarmed by
the movement, the cobra turned with
a hIBS, waving his poisonous head. But
the Virginian made no offer to with
draw his hands. His eyes were wide
and staring and his face livid.
A subdued murmur came from the
men clustered round the Idols, In
seml-darknesa.
The bell boomed forth like an organ.
“O hooded death. . . . O death,
who art trained to my service! Thou
before whom all men stand affrighted!
Thou who canst look into their hearts
and read them as a scroll that Is un
rolled. . . . Look deep Into the
heart of my chosen! judge if he be
worthy or wanting, Judge if he be false
or true. . . . Judge him, O death!”
Before Amber the great serpent was
oscillating like a pendulum, its little
tongue playing like forked red light
ning, its loathsome red eyes holding
his own.
“Look well, O death, and Judge
him!”
The dance of the hooded death
changed in character, grew more fren
zied; the white writhing colls melted
into one another in dizzying confusten;
figure merged into figure like smoke.,
. . . The suspense grew intoler
able.
“Hast thou judged him, 0 death?"
Instantly the white cobra reared up
to Its utmost and remained poised over
Amber, barely moving save for the al
most Imperceptible throbbing of the
hood and the Incessant darting of the
forked tongue.
“If he be loyal, then spare him.”
The hood did not move. Amber's
flesh crawled with unspeakable dread.
“If he be faithless, then .
strike!”
For another moment the cobra
maintained the tensity. Then slowly,
cruel head waving, hood shrinking,
eyes losing their deathly luster, coll
by coll It sank.
A thick murmur ran the round of the
walls, swelling Into an Inarticulate
cry, which beat upon Amber’s ears
like the raving of a far-off surf. From
his Ups a strangled sob broke, and,
every muscle relaxing, he lurched for
ward.
Alarmed, in a trice the cobra was np
again, hood distended to the bursting
point, head swinging so swiftly that
the eye could not follow it In another
breath would come the final thrust
A firearm exploded behind Amber,
singeing his cheek with its flame. He
fell over sideways, barely escaping
the head of the cobra, which, with Its
hood blown to tatters, writhed In con
vulsions, its malignant tongue strain
ing forth as If In one last attempt to
reach his hand.
A second shot followed the first and
then a brisk, confused fusillade. Am
ber heard a man scream out in mortal
agony, and the dull sound of a heavy
body falling near him; but coincident
with the second report, the brazier had
been overturned and its light extin
guished as if sucked up into the air.
CHAPTER XIX.
Rutton’s Daughter.
In darkness the blacker for the sud
den disappearance of the light some
body stumbled over Amber —stumbled
and swore in good English. The Vir
ginian sat up, crying out as weakly as
a child: “Labertouche!” A voice said:
“O My Chosenl”
‘Thank God!” He felt strong hands
lift him to his feet. He clung to him
who had helped him, swaying like a
drunkard, wits a-swirl In the brain
thus roughly awakened from semi
hypnosis.
“Here,” said Labertouche’s voice,
“take my hand and follow. We’re In
for It now!”
He caught Amber's hand and
dragged him, yielding and unquestion
ing, rapidly through a chaotic rush of
unseen bodies.
The firing had electrified the tense
strung audience. With a pandemo
nium of shrieks, oaths, shouts, orders
unheard and commands unheeded, a
concerted rush was made from every
quarter to the spot where the doomed
man had been kneeling. No man could
have said where he stood or whither
he ran-—save one, perhaps. That one
was at Amber’s side and had laid his
course beforehand and knew that both
their lives depended upon his stick
ing to It without deviation. To him a
rush of a hundred feet in a direct
line meant salvation, the least devia
tion from It, death.
He was now recovering rapidly and
able to appreciate that they stood a
good chance of winning away; for the
natives were all converging toward the
center of the cavern, and apparently
none heeded them. Nevertheless La
bertouche, releasing him, put a revol
ver In his hand.
“Don’t hesitate to shoot If anyone
comes this way!” he said. “I’ve got to
get this door open and ...”
He broke off with an ejaculation of
gratitude; for while he had been speak
ing his fingers busily groping in the
convolutions of the sculptured pedes
tal had encountered what he sought,
and now he pulled out an iron bar two
feet or so In length and as thick as
a woman’s wrist. Inserting this In
a socket, as one familiar with the
trick, he put his weight upon It; a
carved sandstone slab slid back silent-.
ly, disclosing a black cavernous open
Ing.
“In with you,” panted labertouche,
removing the lever. “Don’t delay.”
Amber did not. He took with him a
hazy Impression of a vast, vaulted hall
filled with a ruddy glare of torchlight,
a raving rabble of gorgeously attired
natives In its center. Then the open
ing received him and he found himself
In a black hole of an underground
gallery—a place that reeked with the
dank odors of the tomb.
Labertouche followed and with the
aid of a small electric pocket lamp dis
covered another socket for the lever.
A moment later the slab moved back
Into place. Labertouche chuckled.
“Come along,” he said, and drew ahead
at a dog-trot.
They sped down a passage that
delved at a sharp grade through solid
rock. Now and again It turned and
struck away In another direction.
Once they descended—or rather fell
down—a short, steep flight of steps.
At the bottom Amber stopped.
“Hold on!” he cried.
Labertouche pulled up Impatiently.
“What's the matter?”
“Sophia—!"
“Trust me, dear boy, and come
along.”
It was some time later that Laber
touch© extinguished his lamp and
threw a low word of warning over
his shoulder. Synchronously Amber
discerned, far ahead, a faint glow of
yellow light. As they bore down upon
It with unmoderated speed he could
see that it emanated from a rough
hewn doorway, opening off the pas
sage.
Labertouche pushed Amber on
ahead. Stooping, the Virginian en
tered a small, rude chamber hollowed
out of the rock of Katiapur. A crude
lamp in a bracket furnished all its Illu
mination, filling It with a reek of hot
oil. Amber was vaguely aware of the
figures of two women —one standing
in a corner, the other seated dejected
ly upon a charpoy, her head against
the wall. As he lifted his head after
passing under the low lintel, the wom
an In the corner fired at him point
blank.
The Virginian saw the Jet of flame
spurt S'wra her hand and felt the bul
let’s Impact upon the wall behind his
head. He flung himself upon her in
stantly. There was a moment of furi
ous struggle, while the cell echoed
with the reverberations of the shot
and the screaming of the woman on
the charpoy. The pistol exploded again
as he grappled with the would-be mur
deress; the bullet, passing up his
sleeve, creased his left arm as with a
white-hot Iron, and tore out through
the cloth on his shoulder. He twisted
brutally the wrist that held the weap
on, and the woman dropped it with a
cry of pain.
"You would!" he cried, and thsew
her from him, putting a foot upon the
pistol.
She reeled back against the wall and
crouched there, trembling, her cheeks
on fire, her eyes aflame with rage,
“You dog!” she shrilled In Hindi —and
spat at him like a maddened cat. Then
he recognized her.
“Narainl!” Ho stepped back in his
surprise, his right hand seeking in
stinctively the wrist of his left, which
was nuinb with pain.
His change of position left the pistol
ungharded, and the woman swooped
down upon It like a bird of prey; but
before she could get her fingers on Its
grip, Labertouche stepped between
them, fended her off, and quietly pos
sessed himself of the weapon.
“Your pardon, madam,” he said,
gravely.
Naraini retreated, shaking with fury,
and Amber employed the respite to
recognize Sophia Farrell In the woman
on the charpoy. She was still seated,
prevented from rising by bonds about
her wrists and ankles, and though un
naturally pale, her anguish of fear and
despair had set its marks upon her
face without one whit detracting from
the appeal of her beauty. He went to
her Immediately, and as their eyes
met, hers flamed with joy, relief and— l
he dared believe —a stronger emotion.
"You—you’re not hurt, Mr. Amber?”
“Not at all. The bullet went out
through my sleeve. And you?" He
dropped on his knees, with his pocket
knife severing the ends of rope that
bound her.
“I’m all right.” She took his hands,
helping herself to rise. “Thank you,”
she said, her eyes shining, a flush of
color suffusing her face with glory.
“Did you cut those ropes, Amber?”
Labertouche ' interposed curtly.
“Yes. Why?”
The Englishman explained without
turning from his sombre and morose
regard of Naraini. “Too bad —we’ll
have to tie this woman np, somehow.
She’s a complication I hadn’t foreseen.
. . , Here; you’d better leave ms
to attend to her —you and Miss Farrell,
Go on down the gallery—to the left
I’ll catch up with you.”
The pistol which he still held lent
to his demand a sinister significance
of which he was, perhaps, thoughtless.
But Sophia Farrell heard, saw and sur
mised.
“No!” she cried, going swiftly to the
secret agent. “No!” She put a hand
upon his arm, but he shook It off.
“Did you hear me, Amber?” said La
bertouche, still watching the queen.
“What do you mean to do?" insist
ed Sophia “You can’t —you mustn’t —”
“This is no time for half-measures,
Miss Farrell," Labertouche told her
brusquely. “Our lives hang In the bal
ance—Mr. Amber’s, yours, mine.
Please go.”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
What Chance Has He?
Johnny—“ Grandpa, do lions go to
heaven?” Grandpa—“No, Johnny.”
Johnny—“ Well, do ministers?” Grand
pa—" Why, of course. Why do you
ask?” Johnny—“ Well, suppose a lion
eats a minister?"—Llf9.
19 NEW mK2
POPE PIUS SHOWS SIGNS Or
ILLNESS THAT HAS COME ■.
TO STAY.
SECRET CARDINAL CREATED
America Now Has Four on Governing
Board of Catholic
Church.
Rome, Italy.—Nineteen new mem
bers were added to the college of
cardinals, the governing body of tha
Roman Catholic church.
A surprise came in the ceremonies
when it was made known that the
pope had created a cardinal “in pec
tore” —that is, "in his breast” —the
identity of the one so honored not
being revealed.
Of these 19 three are Americans —
John M. Farley, archbishop of New
York; William O’Connell, archbishop
of Boston, and Diomede Falconio,
apostolic delegate to Washington.
America now has four members or
the college, that, practically unchang
ed in personnel, will doubtless name
the successor to the present pontiff.
That this duty could not be long
delayed was the unwelcome thought
impressed on those who witnessed
and participated in the consistory
four years ago.
Besides the new cardinals who re
ceived the red hat, the pope created
another, whom he reserved “in pec
tore” (kept secret) and whose name
will be published in a later consist
ory when the pope wishes that to be
done. In some cases the name of
the prelate thus chosen only becomes
known after the death of the pope.
As he entered the hall of the con
sistory, where his ceremony took
place, the pope's step was less sure
and his careworn face bore signs of
his recent illness that had come to
stay.
Nevertheless, he withstood the fa
tigue of the long ordeal bravely, with
a smile for each and a word for sev
eral in the long procession that pass
ed before the papal throne.
The pontiff himself seemed to feel
the importance of the event with re
spect to the relation of America to
the church. In private conversation
he said that the flourishing condition
of Catholicism in America would re
main in history as one of the chief
characteristics of his pontificate. It
was a decree of Pius X which remov
ed America from the jurisdiction from
the propaganda, thus lifting it out of
the class of missionary lands.
Men Drugged and Shanghaied.
Washington.—Determined to end
the practice of “shanghaiing” men
and the enforcement of a system
which virtually amounts to peonage
aboard vessels, especially on the
"oyster fleet,” in Chesapeake bay,
Secretary Nagel has ordered a fast
boat to go after the offenders. Men
have been drugged at many ports
along the Chesapeake, kidnaped and
taken aboard the oyster boats. Their
filthy quarters and long hours of luij7>t v
have driven men to suicide, murder
and mutiny.
Negro Turned White.
Chillicothe, Mo. —The case of a ne
gro who turned white is to be report
ed to the National Medical Society
with the hope that something may
be learned of the peculiar skin dis
ease which baffled physicians for sev
eral years. The negro, who is dead
here, was Dudley Payne, coal black
and typically African in feature. The
change came gradually. At the time
of his death Payne's face and the up
per part of his body were white as
those of any Caucasion.
Want National Prohibition Act.
Kinston, N. C. —An appeal to con
gress to pass a national prohibition
act was the feature of the concluding
session of the North Carolina confer
ence of the Methodist Episcopal
church, South, here. The memorial
points out that only 10 per cent, of
the papers of the state now carry
whiskey advertisements. Delegates
were urged to use their influence to
persuade editors to refuse such advr
tisements, even to the extent of boy
cotting paprs where appeals failed.
Confederate Monuments Plans.
Memphis, Tenn. Two hundred
thousand dollars will be raised by
the United Sons of Confederate Vet
erans to erect monuments to the mem
ory of Southern soldiers and to the
memory of Southern women who
were active in the cause of the South
during the Civil war. Plans to se
cure money were discussed by the ex
ecutive council of the organization. A
majority of the members appeared to
favor the inauguration of a campaign
asking voluntary contributions in ev
ery camp of the organization.
Mulforcl Wins Vanderbilt Race.
Grand Prize Race Conrse, Savan
nah, Ga. —When a white streak flash
ed by the judges’ stand at the finish
of the seventh Vanderbilt Cup race,
the American automobile world hail
ed Ralph K. Mulford, driver of a Lo
zier car as a new champion. Not
only had Mulford lowered all previ
ous Vanderbilt records, he also had
surpassed the performance of Harvey
Herrick, In covering 202 miles at an
average of 74.63 miles an hour. De
Palma, in a Mercedes, was second.