Newspaper Page Text
AFOUL
HrKAP*
George B.
jEjk\Kj£*fr y&sr Rodney
SYNOPSIS.
— 3—
Automobile of Miss Dorothy Upton and
friend, Mrs. Fane, breaks down at New
Mexico border patrol camp commanded
by Lieutenant Kynaston. The t',o women
are on way to mine of Miss Upton’s fa
ther, located a few mile 3 across the Mexi
can border. Kynaston leaves women at
his camp while he goes with a detail to
investigate report of Villa gun runners.
Villa troops drive small force of Carranza
across border line and they surrender to
Kynaston. Dorothy and Mrs Fane still
at camp when Kynaston returns with
prisoners. A blind Mexican priest appears
in camp.
♦•••••••••••••••••••••••• A
• •
• An aged and blind priest tells •
a Kynaston and his guests an ,
• amazing story of wonderful jew- •
« els and a looted shrine and of a #
• long and heart-breaking quest •
• for one rare treasure. You’ll •
• wonder, as you read, whether or •
• not the old padre is wandering •
2 in both mind and body—for J
• truly his tale is strange. •
*•••••••••••«•••••••••••••
CHAPTER II —Continued.
While they were eating the appe
tizing meal that the trumpeter spread
for them upon the camp table beneath
the solitary live oak that stood before
the tent, they watched the sergeant
help the stranger down the hill. Ta
king the blind man to the fire, he seat
ed him upon a saddle that lay near the
cooking tent, and came forward with
a salute.
“He's a priest, sir —a padre; and
from what little I can make out of
his lingo he’s had a pretty bad time
of it, sir. Shall I bring him up?’’
“Yes.”
Kynaston sprang up.
“Mrs. Fane, do you and Miss Up
ton object to my asking the old fellow
to take his breakfast here with us? I
hardly like to send him down among
the prisoners to eat. He seems a cut
above them, don’t you know?”
"Why, of course not, Mr. Kynas
ton. Please do exactly as you would
If we were not here. I am sure he
will be very interesting.”
So Kynaston went down to the lire,
where the old man was explaining in
broken English and Mexican patois
to the prisoners, for them to translate
to the Americans that he was more
tired than hungry, but that most of
all he desired to hold converse with
lthe commanding officer. Having in
troduced himself, Kynaston asked the
old man to come to his tent and join
him in coffee.
They found the two ladies already
at their meal. Kynaston seated the
old man between the two and poured
him a cupful of steaming coffee that
woke him into speech.
“Never before, senor, have I crossed
tjie line. A Mayan am I, as all my
people were for twelve generations
that stretch their hands back even
unto the days before there were Span
iards in Tenochtitlan.
“For the space of twelve men’s
lives have we lived under the shadows
of El Tio, seeing always the surf break
on the outlying bars. Two years ago
I came north, even as Coronado came,
part of the way on my feet, part on
asses; always with pain, for to the
blind, senor, all paths are hard. And
at last my dream vanished.”
“Thy dream?”
“Aye, senor, my dream, for know
thou that I came not without an aim.
That aim has been to follow and re
cover what these thieves of the world
have taken.”
He pointed his thumb over his
shoulder toward the fire, where the
prisoners still sat over the bacon and
hard bread that were being cooked for
them by the cooks of the troop.
“And art thou really blind?”
“So that, senor; for fifty years I
have not seen the light of day.”
Mrs. Fane and Dorothy murmured
their sympathy.
“So I have come, senor. For now
three hundred years I and my fathers
before me kept the shrine where it has
been deposited since the days when
Cortez came back from the courts of
the old world to hold his court at
Cuernavaca, and, finding there in pow
er the evil man, Pedrarias, his ene
my, retired to live upon his estates.
“Ye know, senor and ladies, how it
was said that the conquistador poi
soned his first wife so that he could
marry a second wife who should ad
vance his fortunes. It was to this sec
ond wife that he gave those wonder
ful jewels, as all the world knows;
the wonderful emeralds that Queen
Isabella asked for in vain and that
jnade Cortez the most courted man in
all Madrid. Hast thou heard of them?”
itjrs. Fane and Dorothy looked their
interest. All people are interested in
the mere mention of jewels or pre
cious stones —even those who do not
possess them.
“I have heard,” said Kynaston
slowly, “the same tale all men know,
the tale which Gomara wrote to the
effect that Cortez received as a part
of the ransom of the Emperor Monte
zuma five great emeralds, and that
when payment was made to the Span
ish king of the royal fifth part of the
treasure the stones were kept by the
conqueror as a part of his own share.”
“Dost thou know then, or does any
man know, what afterward became of
the stones?”
The old man leaned forward in his
eagerness, turning toward the sound
of Kynaston s voice. His interest was
obvious.
Dorothy and Mrs. Fane took no
pains to hide their interest now.
“It was said, of course —what thou
knowest—that the emeralds were ta
ken home by him to Spain, and that
when he married a second time he
gave these to his wife. The queen
had hinted that she herself was not
unwilling to receive as a gift these
most wonderful stones.
“They were, senor, as Gomara says,
iike this: One in the shape of a great
rose, the second a fish with eyes of
gold, the third an emerald cup, and
the fourth a man's head with ruby
eyes set in the green surface. With
none of these, senor, are we con
cerned.
“The fifth and the most beautiful
of all was a great bell, made of solid
emerald, that stood, perhaps—so they
tell me, at least, for how can a blind
man see?—the height of a man’s
thumb; carved, mark thee, from the
solid emerald —the tongue is made of
a pear-shaped pearl, and about the
base, carved and set most probably by
some skilled workman of Seville, these
words, let into the Jewel in letters of
gold:
“Blessed is he who created thee.”
“But, padre, we all know —the world
knows—that when Cortez w’ent with
his king—Charles—to fight the Moors
he took the stones with him, and when
he was wrecked at sea off the Al
geciras coast the stones were lost —”
The old priest sat back clicking his
tongue softly.
“Then, senor, if this be true, I and
my family for ten generations have
been made fools of, for during ten
men’s lives some member of my fam-
“H’m. An Arisaki Rifle! How Did
That Come Here?”
ily has always kept the shrine of Our
Lady of Olvidados down in Yucatan,
where the old faith still holds, and
where men have not gone after
strange gods—”
“But how in the world if you live
in Yucatan did you ever work your
way so far north?”
“When General Zapata rose in re
bellion after President Diaz had fled
to France, the whole country rose with
him. Every place was looted, and
what few treasures, we had were ta
ken.
“We in Trocanto managed to hide
the wealth of the shrine, and for
months my brother, who had the care
of the shrine itself, had little trou
ble in secreting the wealth that we
had hidden for nigh four hundred
years.
"We had the stone —no, senor, not
the five; only one —the greatest and
most valuable. So rich it was —is! —
that I am told men’s hearts turned to
water at the mere sight of it. I know
right well that I would have given
much to see it for only one little mo
ment; but it was not to be.
"They came, senor, by night—as
beasts of prey always come —and they
looted the temple and burned it after
they had looted. I was not there at
the time, but when I returned I found
my brother dying of a gunshot wound
and my mother — it is best not to
go into particulars, senor.
“They had no fear of God. It is
lacking always, they say, in a mob
that knows neither law nor leader.
And the stone was gone—looted—ta
ken, as everything else was taken,
with the raiders when they fled to the
north.
“Always, senor, our raiders have
come from the north, from the days
THE DOUGLAS ENTERPRISE, DOUGLAS, GEORGIA.
of old when the Toltecs came down
upon the land, and when following
them the countless thousands of the
red savages drove the Toltecs in head
long flight, bringing death and deso
lation upon the land. And then the
Spaniard came, and —thou knowest the
rest, senor.
“I do but speak the empty vapor
ings of age. I am seventy-sis years
of age, and I have tracked that stone
northward —northward ever since that
day when Zapata's men robbed the
shrine.
“Those men who fled yesterday
across the line, and who found refuge
with thee have the stone. They took
it in fair fight from the rebels, who
were moving toward El Paso with it
in the hope of selling it for gold with
which to purchase arms and ammuni
tion for their cause.
“And they in turn have lost the
stone to thee; for a passing cowboy
told me that these men had surren
dered to the Americanos and guided
me the greater part of the way to thy
camp.
“I am no rebel, senor. I am a
churchman, not a soldier. But—l seek
the stone—l, now that my brother is
dead; I, the Blind Priest of Trecante,
am the lawful guardian of the shrine.”
Just then the deep voice of the ser
geant broke in.
"Sir, if the lieutenant is ready I’ll
bring up the packs an’ the lieutenant
can go through ’em.”
Kynaston, called back to earth,
looked up and nodded.
“Bring ’em all up in front of my
tent, sergeant.”
The three pack males, tired and un
groomed, were led up and their packs
decanted in front of the tent where
Dorothy and Mrs. Fane sat in inter
ested observation.
“There ought to be guns an’ re
volvers an’ ammunition,” commented
Kynaston. “Button! Button! Who’s
got the button? I wonder what they’ve
got packed away in those aparejos.”
He soon found out, for under the
quiet orders of the sergeant the guards
slipped the packs and opened them
in front of the wondering eyes of the
little group.
“I thought at least we would find
that the arms manufacturers of the
country had shipped rifles and pistols
to them across the border,” comment
ed Kynaston. “And I find nothing;
absolutely nothing. A petate —sleep-
ing mat —and a lot of dried red pep
pers, together with a package of beans
—frijoles— Wait a bit! What’s that
under your hand, Miss Upton?”
Miss Upton, startled, looked curi
ously at the package under her hand
which she had been resting upon the
pack. She gave it a twitch, and a bun
dle wrapped in a rough, red blanket
rolled out on the ground. Kynaston
promptly picked it up.
“H-m! Three rifles that have no
business here and a hundred rounds
of ammunition. Wait a bit! Sergeant,
look at the arsenal mark on those
rifles and see where they were made.”
The sergeant scrutinized them care
fully in the early light.
“Sir, there’s some mark on ’em that
I can’t make out. It looks like some
sort of a flower as well as I can see.”
Kynaston took the gun. As far
as its appearance was concerned
it resembled every other military
rifle that he had ever seen, but when
he turned the under side to the light
he saw stamped in the dark wooden
forehand of the piece the full-blown
chrysanthemum that was the emblem
of only one nation.
”H-m! An Arisaka rifle! Now
how the deuce did that "ome here? It
was made as far east as one can get
without tumbling over to the westward
again. How the deuce did a Japanese
rifle come into Mexican hands?”
He had no opportunity to solve the
problem, for even as he spoke Dorothy
gave an exclamation and stepped back
a pace as the covering of a package
broke and a flood of silver pesos ran
out at her feet.
“There’s no proof of stealing ir
these,” commented Kynaston. “Evea
if there were the stealing was dons
in Mexico, and the thief was not with
in our jurisdiction. What is this?”
It was a plain, dirty canvas sack
perhaps a foot in depth and it bore
the marks of rough handling. He
picked it up and juggled it from hand
to hand. The officer of the Carranza
forces was obviously uneasy at the
scrutiny.
“That, senor,” he said, “is the great
est prize of all. It was stolen by
these rebels across the line and was
to be used by them to purchase arms.”
Without waiting for any explana
tion as to what the contents of the
sack might be, Kynaston cut the string
and poured the contents out upon the
saddle blanket which the sergeant had
spread upon the ground. Certainly
there was nothing in the roll of rags
that rolled out to presage great value.
But on turning over the mass with
his foot a glow of green caught his
eyes. There tumbled out at his feet
a great crystal bell the color of the
richest blue grass that grows in Ken
tucky!
Dorothy picked it up.
"The padre was right,” she said.
“If it is indeed emerald it is worth
a king's ransom. What will you do
with it?”
• •
J And this wonderful emerald J
• bell plays a big part—if you •
2 were writing this story, what 2
• part would you have the jewel •
2 play in the tangled web of war J
• plotting? Its history might be •
• one of bloody intrigue and its J
• future may make it a pawn for •
• a man’s life. *
• •
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
THE ETERNAL FEMININE
By IZOLA FORRESTER.
“Hello, hello! Yes, this is Milt. Oh!”
—Milton’s tone breathed interest and
surprise—“It’s you, girlie?”
Beth turned around and stared with
wide-open eyes, listening.
“Indeed, I will—right away. Not a
bit of it. I’m awfully glad to help out.
Goodby.”
He hung up the receiver and wheeled
about, looking not at Beth, but at the
clock.
“It’s Mrs. Hewitt. Her husband's in
Baltimore, and wired her to meet him,
and the maid's gone, and there’s no
body to help her down with her suit
case. She wants me to run up to din
ner and take her to the station after
ward. You don’t mind, of course,
Beth?”
“Who is Mrs. Hewitt?" she asked
frigidly.
“Why, she’s a girl I knew out in
Denver, you know.”
“I don’t know. How old is she and
what does she look like?”
“Now, Beth”—Milton looked a hit
bored as if he hated to go into the
subject, it was so trivial —“I think we
agreed that real love is above jeal
ousy. This is only common courtesy.
I’ve known ‘Girlie’ Cooper—she used
to be a Cooper—since I was a boy at
school. She’s about twenty-four, I
guess —around there.”
At eighteen twenty-four looks world
ly’ wise and experienced. Beth pursed
her lips.
“I’ll be back by nine,” added Milton.
Beth looked at him with growing
suspicion.
“Do you think you’ll need a cushion
as a tame cat?” she inquired witlier
ingly. “You needn’t come back Imre,
Milt. She cculd call a taxi and go
down by herself. Of course, you can
do just as you please, but you needn’t
come back here if you go carting suit
cases around for old sweethearts.”
“You know, Milt, you can’t deceive
me one bit.” She leaned her adorable
chin on her palm and looked up at him.
“I’ve heard of ‘Girlie’ Cooper. Mrs.
Daniels told me you were engaged to
her and perfectly wild over her five
years ago. I think it's terrible for the
man you love to have memories of
other girls.”
She rose suddenly and left him
standing there, expostulating.
She really did need a lesson, Milton
told himself severely. Utter lack of
faith in him was too much to bear un
checked.
All this he told himself going up to
Girlie’s, all the way through dinner, all
the way downtown. Girlie talked in
cessantly of Hobart, her husband, of
his congressional ambitions, his
tastes, his achievements. She was a
little, appealing sort of woman, with
big brown eyes and a wistful chin. Mil
ton found himself comparing her men
tally with Beth’s beautiful clear-eyed
buoyant girlishness.
“You know the real reason why I
asked you to see me to the station,
Milt,” said as they entered the
taxi. “It’s for Hobart’s sake. I want
you to see that his new bill is handled
fairly by the papers. You will, won’t
you, Milt? I don’t know myself just
what it’s about, but it must be a splen
did measure or he’d never take it up.
He's that type of man, you know, Milt.
Just ask Miss Wharton.”
“Beth?” asked Milton, alarmed,
“what does she know about him?”
“Why, didn’t you know?” The big
brown eyes met his in surprise. “She
saved his life. We've been married a
year, and it was before he mot me.
She was hardly more than a child, he
told me, and they were all down at
Pinehearst for the late winter season.
I believe he was accidentally shot, and
she found him as she was riding
through the mountains and saved
him.”
“Was —was he in love with her?”
asked Milt feebly. “Quite romantic,
wasn’t it?” *
"He was till he met me,” Girlie an
swered complacently, “but he'll never
destroy her pictures. He’s got forty
snapshots of her, I do believe, taken
that season. I hated her till 1 heard
you were going to marry her.”
The next morning, Beth met him,
radiant and ready for their usual walk
in the park.
“I’m so sorry, dear,” she said, “but
you knoW you would go. I know wom
en are perfect cats, and she only want
ed to tell you about Hobart and me;
so I tried to keep you from going. I
refused him about ten times, Milt, and
I’m not one bit jealous of her.”
Milton staret} thoughtfully at the
spring vista ahead of them. And he
had feared to wound her, had wanted
to teach her a lesson.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew
him?” he asked.
“I never even thought of him. Don’t
you know, Milt,” her voice was strong
with faith, "when the real big love
comes into your life it seems to
just sweep away everything else. Be
sides, I didn’t want you to know I was
—er —lobbying. Isn’t that what you
call it? The woman’s club I belong
to is behind a bill, something about
fountains at street corners, and we
■Wanted him to present it, so I wrote to
him about it and it comes up tomor
row. Aren't you glad, dear? If you
only could Jet something into the pa
pers about it, I’d love you for it, Milt.”
Milton gloomed at the landscape
realizing for the first time in his life
the underlying power of the eterna
feminine.
“I’ll try,” he promised.
(Copyright, 1916, by the McClure Newspa
per Syndicate.)
In W omans Realm
Extremely Pretty Dress for Summer May Be Made of Plain and
Dotted Organdie, Though Other Materials May Be Chosen-
Selection of the Veil Is Most Important—lnnumerable
Patterns From Which to Choose.
A very pbetty and summery dress of
plain and dotted organdie achieves fine
style by combining these familiar ma
terials. Organdie in cottons, as taf
feta in silks, has proved peculiarly well
adapted to the styles of today. The
originality of the model lies in combin
ing the plain and dotted surfaces so
that they play parts of equal impor
tance, and it suggests the use of other
goods in the same way.
In the model shown the body and
skirt are of the plain organdie. Five
SUMMER DRESS.
graduated ruffles of the dotted organ
die encircle It. the first and widest
about the hem and the na -row fifth
ruflie at the waist line. The under
skirt is gored and gathered to flare.
Its crispness and that of the ruffles is
almost equivalent to the effect of crin
oline.
The three-quarter length sleeves
and square cape of the dotted organdie
are edged with narrow ruffles made of
it. The throat opens with a shallow V.
A belt of ribbon in any color desired
may be worn with this dress. White
moire, corded near the edges, makes
that shown in the picture. Silk stock
ings and white buckskin or canvas slip
pers will finish the pretty toilette suit
ably.
Among the new summer goods there
are plain voiles and lawns in beautiful
MOST POPULAR VEIL.
colors with which dainty interpreta
tions of Scotch plaids may be found in
light tints and varied colors. Some
thing very distinctive and original
might be made by combining these in
the manner shown in this organdie
dress. Then there are the crossbar
and striped organdies, which might be
used instead of the more familiar dot
ted varieties. They are sheerer than
chiffon, the daintiest of all cotton,
weaves, and retain the crispness which
distinguishes the plain material. Noth
ing could be better for a graduating
gown.
A circular veil with hexagonal mesh
and border of small chenille balls is
one of many that have aided designers
la the conception of new effects In
millinery. Those to be worn over the
face are of unbroken mesh with all
sorts of fancy borders, and are woven
of fine hairlike threads, so that they
will not interfere with the vision. Oth
ers, to be thrown back, are purely
an adjunct of the hat and show sur
faces broken by big polka dots of flat
sequins, or lace patterns in conven
tional and floral designs..
These small veil-trimmed hats are
very chic, but this management of the
veil is quite outside the real realm of
its usefulness. Veils are worn for
two reasons, to keep the hair neatly
in place and because they are becom
ing. There are so many patterns to
choose from that a selection is a mat
ter of trying them on as in choosing a
hat or a color for a gown. One may
buy a mesh in almost any shape, as
square, round, diamond shape or hex
agonal. Borders vary also and there
are several colors to choose from.
Taupe, brown, gray and purple tones,
with several shades of dark blue,
make it worth while to experiment,
as they are adapted to varied com
plexions. Black remains most popular,
but is not always the happiest choice.
The threads of which veils, and es
pecially black veils, of today are wov
en are incredibly fine, and the heavy
veil has no following.
Veilings and separate veils are made
in narrow widths with narrow borders.
The border reaches to the chin so that
the veil covers just the face. No eo*
centric methods of draping have ap
peared so far in the season's history,
unless we class the harem veil, which
has been introduced for the motor
ist, under that head. Many of the
new motor veils are of very thin chif
fon and some of them are circular,
suspended from an elastic cord that
holds them in place about the hat in
the manner shown for the face veil
pictured here.