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About The Henry County weekly. (McDonough, GA.) 18??-1934 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 15, 1907)
henry county weekly. J. A. FOUCHE, Publisher. R. L. JOHNSON, Editor. Entered at the poetolfice at McDon* jugh as second class mall matter. , -4 Advertising Rates: SI.OO per lneH per month. Reduction on standln| pantracts by special agreement. Coal operators, having put up the price of anthracite, suggests the Wash ington Sun, again feel warranted offering congratulations on the pros perity of the country. Says the Washington Post: "The western tombstone manufacturer who committed suicide because business was dull should have braced up and run an automobile garage as a side line.” Now that most of the white pines of Maine are gone, an effort wiii be made to savo them, complains the Brooklyn Eagle. To save most of them would require us to unshlngle our houses and reconstruct the trees, as geologists reconstruct dinosaurs and mosasaurs and plesiosaurs from sam ple bones. The introduction of dogs Into the tracing of criminals In New York and other American cities Is now ap parently only a question of months, declares the New York Commercial. So much has recently occurred, both in this country and abroad, to substan tiate the claim for great efficiency on the part of dogs in ferreting out those guilty of murder and other heinous crimes that the burden of proof Is al ready upon those who would deny the value of the canine detective. The possibility of increasing crops by electrical stimulation is a fascina ting subject which has occupied the at tention of a few scientists since the able Nollet announced that seeds sub jected to electrical stimulation germi nated earlier than untreated seeds, re marks the New York Globe. Tests Lave been made at various experiment stations in this country and abroad which seem to show that both electric illumination and currents passed through the soil in which plants are growing increase the rapidity of growth and improve crops. Of all the travellers who have risked their lives In attempts to explore the sacred Inner regions of Tibet, Sven Hedin has been the only really suc cessful one. Not only has he entered Tibet’s most sacred city, from which foreigners were prohibited, but be haß now actually achieved an interview of three hours' duration with the Tashi Lamt, the holiest person of all the lama world. In Harper’s Magazine Mr. MedLn gives an Interesting account of this great personage, “who is more powerful than all the kings of the earth, who governs the faith and thought of all the people, from Kal mucks on the Volga to the Buriats by the Baikal, from the const of the Arc tic to the scorching sun of India.” Yet he is but twenty-five yearß old, and has, as Mr. Hedin describes him, a very lovable personality. Commenting on the inefficient educa tion of the graduates of colleges for mechanical or professional masters the New York Post says: in all our states the public schools, primary and sec ondary, furnish to all comers a free preparation for college. Throughout the west, the state universities offer the higher instruction also free, or for a merely nominal fee. In the east, the privately endowed colleges grant many scholarships to promising boys and girls; so that most of these insti tutions can boast, as Harvard does, that no youth of intelligence, ambi tion, and character need stay away be cause be lacks money. Thus it is that our colleges are remarkably democra tic. Even the richest and most fash ionable of them enroll many children of poor parents; and the son of an un skilled laborer may, if he have brains and pluck, rise without great difficul ty to one of the learned professions. But the very fact that a college educa tion is within such close reach that there is no wide gap between gown and town, has perhaps made our col lege authorities too easily contented with existing conditions. To lc . ••• .• • of Uhe I Anglo-Indian I Secret Service CHAPTER I. 1 Conspirators. MONSIEUR JACORI-thc Bar oness de Nantille!” Monsieur Jacobi bowed with grave courtesy—the Baroness de Nantille inclined her head without raising her eyes, and the introduction was complete. The introducer, Mrs. Wright, turned away with a little sigh of relief to continue her duties of hos tess. Monsieur Jacobi and tbe baron ess bad never been to her bouse before, and the astute little English woman was not prepossessed in 'favor of the foreign lady. Monsieur Jacobi, of course, was irreproachable. Every one knew the name of the new musician, whose violin bad insinuated him into every circle in Loudon where the fine arts came under unprofitable discus •loo. The introduction took place in the smaller drawing room, which was al most deserted at the moment. Indeed, there was only one other person pres ent. This was a man with hair and pointed beard, mustache and overhang ing eyebrows, as white as snow. Tbe head was ihat of an old man—such asl one pictures the ancient patriarchs toi have been—but the body was straight and tbe movements, without being lithe, were far from denoting infirmity. This was Laura nee Lowe—a mossiest stone whose rollings days were done. People whispered to one another thaij in days gone by Laurance Lowe would fain Lave censed his rolling ways, but that providence had willed it other' •wise, sending a courageous and fairly intelligent young soldier—one Lieuten ant Wright—to set the stone once more* a-going, and to gather for himself the moss. Whatever mar have passed be tween the white-haired man and the cheery little matron—still comely and hearty—in those forgotten days wait only known to themselves, aud neithe.! ever referred to it. People wondered why Mrs. Wright should trouble her* self with this silent old man, who con* tributed In no way to the eutertdfcP ment of her guests. They considered him an old bore, though he never dls‘ played the least anxie y to be honored •with their attention never yawned* never confessed to fatigue, and uevef partook in a general conversation. It was to him that Mrs. Wright turned with her ready smile, which, however, had something different In it when her eyes met him. “Coffee?” he said, interrogatively, without moving mustache or beard, and offered her his arm. “Thanks, Lauranee, I will,” replied the little lady, with a grateful srniie. During the last twenty years these two had gone vhrough that Pttle ceremony many hundreds of times. They passed into another room and the Baroness was left diene with Mon sieur Jacobi. He had posresred him self of her engagement card, and was now studying it, pencil in hand. Every curve of his body, the very manner in which he held his pencil, his eagerly* bowed head, were expre.rlve of the ut J most deference and respect. The Barouess had not yet raised hei‘ eyes from the polish'd floor. Her strong white hands, beautifully shaped and incased only iu open-work mittens* lay Idly upon her lap. There was something in her whole attitude, in the repose of her fair fact, iu her down cast eyes, which was forced and unnat ural. Hers was indeed a beautiful lace, sculptured on lather a smaller scale than Englishmen admire, pale and very calm, with red, level lips an I close set eyes. Her soft, colorless hair, almost white in its exquisite fairness, was arranged with extreme simplicity, but she wore it parted upon ne side, in accordance with a tashior now obso lete iu England. Slie could not have been more that, twemy-five years of* age, despite her repose of mauuer, which was almost that of a matron. When Monsieur Jr.ccbi had made sure that they were alone, tbe expres sion of his keen face underwent a re markable change, though bis attitude remained unaltered. “Who?” he asked in a low-pitched voice, and with an unpleasant smile— “who is the old fossil who wears an eyeglass In one eye aud sees with tne other?” The Baroness raised her calm blue eyes, and met Jacobi’s sardonid smile with a contemptuous stare. "Your conscience must indeed be an evil one, Jacobi,” she said, slowly. “You are forever suspecting tbe mos 4 Innocent and harmless of treachery •nd double-dealing.” “Nevertheless, Baroness, who is that man?” “That man, my friend, is one Lau rence Lowe—an English radical, which means nothing. He has by this time ' YOUNG l MISTLE Y completely forgotten the existence of both of us. I should imagine that whole attention and time are given td the management of his own affairs.” “You know him, then?” said Jacobi* seating himself lightly and gracefully! near tbe Baroness. “By reputation only.” "You know jorae one who knows him well?” persisted the violiuis*, calmly. “I do." “Ah! May I ‘nnuire ” The Baroness suddenly cast down her eyes, and the white lids dosed over them. A faint pink tinge appeared on either eh* ek. “I obtained my information from Mr. Ch .rles Mistley,” she said in an in different voice. “Brother of the Mistley?” “Brother of the Mistley.” “Who is daily expect d in England, with his chief, Colonel Wright?” The Baroness bowed her head In ac quiescence. Her red lips were pressed close together, her colorless eyebrows slightly raised. Monsieur Jacobi prided himself upon his deep discernment in matters connected with tbe female heart and mind. He therefore changed the subject somewhat abruptly. “You did not expect to meet me here to-night,” he said, with exaggerated coolness. “No.” Her voice was totally without expression. “I am here on business.” “Indeed!” “And you?” inquired Jacob!, Inso lently. The Baroness looked up with slightly raised eyebrows. “That is my affair.” Jacobi smiled again, with a singu larly unpleasant cur! of the lip. “Yes. Barones,” be said. “I am here on business connected with the broth erhood, and I call upon you to assist me.” Tbe Baroness looked somewhat sul len. ami remained silent. “Miss Lena Wright,” continued Jacobi, “the daughter of our amiable hostess, is, I have reason to believe, likely, and more than likely, to come in for a considerable fortune on the death of Mr. Laurance Lowe, whom I have seen to-night for the first time. She is, I am led to suppose, singularly amiable, somewhat romantic, and w r ith no more strength of mind or purpose than is considered desirable in a young English lady. The brotherhood, as you know, is desperately in need of funds. You begin to see, fair Baron ess?” “You wish to enroll her?” asked the Baroness in her emotionless manner. "You wish to enroll her, and for khe sake of her money!” “I think,” replied Jacobi, gazing Bad ly at the floor, “I think it would benefit tbe cause.” “What do you wish me to tk>?” asked she, abruptly. “Nothing much—to-night!” was the reply. “Tell me what Miss Wright is ‘dressed in, so that I may recognize her. I will manage to get an introduc tion somehow. That will be enough for to-night.” "She is dressed in white,” replied the Baroness in the concise manner of one who observes everything and for gets nothing. “Tall and slight, with hair a little darker than mine, rather badly dressed and somewhat untidy. I suppose she is considered beautiful!”. “You do not know her?” “No.” Monsieur Jacobi now became ab sorbed in the rearrangement of the delicate flower in his buttonhole, and took the opportunity of glancing keenly at his companion’s face, which, how ever, was motionless and devoid of expression. “I have taken the liberty of placing my name against the dance about to commence,” lie said. “It is a waltz. Shall we go into the other room?” chapter ir. The Lovers. When Mrs. Wright and Laurance Lowe left tbe smaller drawing room, they turned their steps toward a di minutive apartment, where some late arrivals were yet partaking of tea and coffee. For some minutes neither spoke. Laurance Lowe was a singu larly silent man, and Mrs. Wright was by no means an excessive talker. They understood each other thorough ly, and both enjoyed these long spells of silence. Lowe found a sent for Mrs. Wright in the dimly lighted cor ridor, just outside the small coffee room, and let her there while he went in quest of the coffee. Presently he returned and sat down beside her. By Mu,,,,,, i Henry I Seton Merriman . “Lena,” said Lowe, pensively, as be stirred bis coffee, “is looking lovely to night.” Through the curtained doors the cadence of a slow, soft waltz reached their ears, riging and falling on the heavy atmosphere. Mrs. Wright was anxious this evening, and a little rest less. She had that morning received a telegram from her husband, announc ing bis arrival at Brindisi on the home ward voyage from India, aud she had not seen him for two anxious, weary years. She sipped her coffee, and glanced over her cup toward Laurance Lowe. His great eyebrows were drawn forward, so that his eyes w*ire in im penetrable shadow. He looked very old and somewhat worn, but he had looked so for many years. “Yes, Laurance,” said she, softly, “I am a little proud of my daughter.” He made no reply, but continued to stir bis coffee absently. Presently be moved slightly and looked up, drawing iu a deep breath. “Thursday morning?” he said, in a slightly interrogative tone. This was the time mentioned by Colonel Wright in his telegram for the arrival of him self and Winyard Mistley at Victoria Station. “Yes; Thursday morning, at half-past seven. Will you come with us to meet him?” Lowe shook his head slowly and with much deliberation. “He will find Lena changed,” said Lowe, knowing that be was broaching a pleasing subject. “Yes, be will find her grown. She Is a young lady now, and quite—quite ” “Quite able to take care of herself,” suggested Lowe. Mrs. Wright turned and iheir eyes met. Lowe’s were grave; but there was about the lines of his face a faint suggestion of a smile. That was tbe best he could do in tbe way of smiles, by reason of the long white mustache that hid his lips. “Yes, I hope so,” said Mrs. Wright, seriously. She knew that her daughter was fair, and also that it is the fairest who find the saddest lives here. She knew the thousand temptations that *beset the path of a beautiful woman, the thousand little slips so easily made, the thousand hands ever ready to push itlie stumbler down the hill. But her faith in Lena was very great. While these two old travelers were worrying themselves over the rough ness of the road they had long since left behind, the object of their solic itous thoughts made her appearance at the end of the corridor—a dainty vision of soft white muslin, with a broad yel low sash round a slender waist. Lena was attended by a huge cavalier of peaceful but distinguished appearance. As she came lightly along the corridor, she was busily engaged in putting back over her ears sundry little stray wisps and tendrils of hair. These particular little curls were almost golden, while above them the heavier coils darkened into living brown. She was smiling pud breathless, and just a little flushed. Lena’s eyes were in striking contrast to her hair and fair complexion, for they were hazel—a dark, deep hazel full of ready laughter, capable of sparkling with unbounded mischief; but in repose they were as demure and illegible as those of a nun. At tbe present moment they were soft and glistening with excitement and weari ness; dangerous eyes for a man to look into, especially amid the surroundings of odorous flowers, within sound of slow dance music, for tbe next waltz had begun. Tbe big man. upon whose arm she was leaning, was fanning her with great sweeping strokes, so that the lace upon her dress fluttered in the breeze. “Oh, Charlie,” she was saying, “that was lovely! I do not think that I ever danced like that before. The music seemed to stop suddenly, to die away into nothing, and then we came to earth. Why was it so lovely—why was |t so lovely?” The big man continued fanning. He looked down at her with a slow, grave smile, such as one expects to see on a Saxon face. “And wliy,” he said, “did we come down to earth .again?” They both had seen Mrs. Wright and Laurance Lowe, and they both knew that they were within earshot, but that appeared in no way to interfere with or restrain their conversation. They ad vanced slowly along the corridor, Charles Mistley taking one stride to ever?- two of Lena's. It was, perhaps, no coincidence that when Lena and her partner approached j the two elder folks looked up, not at ! her, but at Charles Mistley. Some- j thing, some vague and doubting won- | tier, must have prompted Mrs. Wright j to do this, for every mother looks ten times at her own daughter in a ball room for every once that her eyes rest an some other person's offspring. They can no more help it than an artist can resist the magnetic attraction which draws him to tbe contemplation of liis own picture in a gallery full of su perior works. But this good lady looked at Charles Mistley, her eyes jesting on his strong, clean-cut face with a wistful, questioning expression which seemed almost to savor of fore boding. Laurance Lowe gazed at the young fellow with those keen bine eyes of his, and his face bore absolute ly no expression whatever. It was merely the calm, impassive contempla tion of an indifferent looker-one. The young sailor looked down on them from his exceptional height and smiled quietly Charles Mistley’s smile was a pleasant one to meet. It seemed, somehow, to bring him down to a low er level; and smaller, plainer men felt lerr inferior. It was a ready smile, foo, and women liked it for its sin cerity. “I have.” he said, "danced Lena Into a state of sentimentality. She requires bringing down to an every-day level, so I brought her to her mother.” , "You are very useful, at all events,” said Mrs. Wright, favoring Mistley with a smile. "I am very grateful to gou, Charlie,” she continued, "for danc ing with that Barouess de Something. I have had great difficulty in finding partners for her; the young men nowa days are so hard to please, and I find a •growing tendency among them to di vide the program among four or five partners at the most.” Charles Mistley smiled. That smile of his came in frequently, very profita bly, in place of words. “Yes,” said Lena, musingly, with ail the wisdom ol her first season, “I am afraid that is the characteristic of the rising generation.” And she looked demurely and inno cently up at Mistley, whose initials ap peared five times upon her engagement card. (To be continued.) • Giant Submarines. The Matiu asserts that tbe French Government is preparing designs for submarines of about 800 tous dis placement. They will be able to oper ate at a considerable distance frona their base. GOLDEN STREAM FROM EUROPE Will Bs Poured Into Wall Street to Amount of Over Eighteen Millione. The principal events of the financial district of New York Monday indicated that the worst of the crisis was over and that normal conditions were set tling down again. The engagement of $18,750,000 in gold from Europe for importation to New York was followed by the sensa tional announcement of sales of Amer ican copper abroad which will further Increase the tide of foreign money to this country to an aggregate of over $25,000,000. This, with the rapid rlso of good securities on the stock ex change, and the policy of the trust companies not to pay out currency for hoarding purposes, all contributed to strengthening the feeling in bank ing quarters and among the public at large. STRIKE IN ATLANTA IS ENDED. Telegraphers Vote to Resume Work if Positions Can Be Secured. The telegraphers’ local union in At lanta met Friday afternoon and de clared the strike off. This means that some 150 operators will go back to work If they can find positions open. The Western Union manager states that there are only twelve places to be filled in his office in the city. The Postal says it has no vacancies at all. A THREE-MILLION-DOLLAR FIRE. Elevator, Fleur Mills and Many Homes De stroyed in Superior, Wis. A fire which .started in the preat Northern elevator at Superior, Wis., Saturday night and burned all night destroyed the elevator, three flour mills, forty homes and 700,000 bushels of grain. Two scows, a derrick and two tugs were also destroyed. The loss is estimated at $3,000,000. R. O. JACKSON, Attorney-at-Law, McDonough, ga. Office over Star Store. E. M. SniTH, Attorney at Law, Me Doxough, Ga. Office over Star Store, south side square. All work carefully and promptly attended to. Am premared to negotiate loans on real estate. Terms easy. 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