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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.