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► WHAT GOES TO MAKE OUR CLOTHING PERFECT! MEN’S SWIPED CASSIMERE SUITS. Gray ground, with stripes in greenish and other effects, bottle green mixtures, every pattern a high class one, at the slashing price $5.00. Men’s green effect Cheviot and Tweed Suits in all regular and standard sizes, giving every one a chance. These fabrics are what fashion dictates this season $7.50. Men’s pure Worsted Cheviot Suits of the sort that custom tailors pride themselves upon, the peer of any $35 made-to-measure-suit in highly favored gray, greenish and other rich tones $10. CHEA Men’s Fine Fall Suits. Made of cheviots, cassimeres and worsteds, which were thoroughly shrunk before they were out, this lot can’t be duplicated anywhere, for they were, made especially for us they have hand made button holes, hand felled collar, workmanship which you know is never put on any but high priced suits, a fine serge lining, both material and make, worth $18.00, special at $10.50. Men’s Stylish Fall Suits of blue black cheviots, black Thibets, fancy tweeds and cassimeres, very choice materials, make and cut from every stand point, looks, wear and economy. These suits will give exceptional satisfaction. 327 Men’s Saits and Overcoats. Suits of the Black Tli bet nicely trimmed, made by the best skilled union talent. Overcoats of Kersey and Black, with good Velvet Collar. These special offerings are for to-morrow, choice of either Suit or Overcoat -^3 50. Men’s Oxford Frieza and Vicuna Overcoats. Winter weight with Velvet Collar aid Fall weight with Clo h C ilia', ths seas in’s correct m idels. ma is uo of s > in 1 overcoating $5 00 Men’s Overcoats of tirm Irish Frit zs Goods that everybody knows, a sensational Price that make ■ it, a great special, particularly well tailored, $7 50. Man's Overcoats of English Kersey, standard of the world. All wool good? _ fast Indigo blue, with sleeve linings of Skinner guaranteed silk and body lining of Serge, round figures $10. Boy’s stylish and handsome knee pants Suits are here in Vestee and Double-Breasted styles at 98c., $1 25. $1.50, $2, $2 50, $3 and up to $5 SCHNEIDER’S GREAT DEPARTMENT STORE 5 1106 and 1108 Broadway, Augusta, Georgia. - - THE COURIER * OF THE CZAR » By Jules Veroe -yg. -ayjwv ~~ "T 'OS- “Even to throw yourself into the wa ter when I teil you?” “Whenever you tell me.” “Have confidence in me, Nadia.” “I have indeed.” The Tartar boats were now only a hundred feet distant. They carried a detachment of Bokharian soldiers on their way to reconuoiter round Omsk. The ferryboat was still two lengths from the shore. The boatmen redou bled their efforts. Michael himself seiz ed a pole and wielded it with superhu man strength. If he could land the tarantass and horses and dash off with them, there was some chance of escap ing the Tartars, who were not mount ed. But all their efforts were in vain. The soldiers from the first boat shout ed. Michael recognized the Tartar war- cry, which is usually answered by lying fiat on the ground. As neither he nor the boatmen obeyed this injunction, a volley was let fiy among them, and two of the horses were mortally wounded. At the next moment a violent blow was felt. The boats had run into the ferryboat. “Come, Nadia!” cried Michael, ready to jump overboard. The girl was about to follow him when a blow from a lance struck liim. and he”was thrown into the water. The current swept him away. His hand raised for an instant above the waves, and then he disappeared. Nadia uttered a cry, but before she had time to throw herself after him she was seized and dragged into one of the boats. In a few minutes the boatmen were killed and the ferryboat was left to drift away while the Tartars continued to descend the Irtish. CHAPTER VIII. HE blow which had struck Michael Strogoff was not mortal. By swimming in a manner by which he had effectually concealed himself he had reached the right bank, where he fell exhausted among the bushes. When he recovered his senses, he found himself in the cabin of a mujik. who had picked him up and cared for him and to whom he owed his life. For how long a time had he been the guest cf this brave Siberian? He could not guess, but when he opened his eyes he saw the handsome bearded face bending over him and regarding him with pitying eyes. He was about to ask where he was when the mujik, an ticipating him, said: “Do not speak, little father, do not spealc. Thou art still too weak. I will tell thee where tbou art and everything that has passed since I brought thee to my cabin.” And the mujik related to Michael Strogoff the different incidents of the struggle which he had witnessed—the attack upon the ferry by the Tartar boats, the pillage of the tarantass and the massacre of the boatmen. But Michael Strogoff listened no lon ger, and, slipping his hand under his garment, he felt the imperial letter still secured iu his breast. He breathed a sigb of relief. But that was not all. “A young girl accompanied me,” said he. “They have not killed her,” replied the mujik, anticipating the anxiety which he read iu the eyes of his guest. “They have carried her off in their boat and have continued the descent cl the Irtish. It is only one prisoner more . to join so many others which they are taking to Tomsk.” Michael Strogoff was unable to reply. He pressed his hand upon his heart to restrain its beating. But. notwithstanding these many trials, the sentiment of duty mastered his whole soul. He remembered the errand which he had undertaken. Indeed never by day or night was his emperor’s mission for even a moment absent from his mine. Not the presence of the greatest dan ger, the tortures of hunger and thirst, the weariness of excessive fatigue, not even all combined could car.se him to forget that a momentous matter wa ; intrusted to his courage, his zeal, his fidelity aud his endurance. Michael Strogoff was worthy of this trust. “Where am I ?” asked he. “Upon the right bank of the Irtish, only five versts from Omsk,” replied the mujik. “What wound can I have received which could have thus prostrated me? It was uot a gunshot wound?” “No; a lance thrust upon the head, now healing,” replied the mujik. “Aft er a few days’ rest, little father, thou wilt be able to proceed. Tliou didst fall into the river, but the Tartars neither touched nor searched thee, and thy purse is still iu thy pocket.” Michael Strogoff gripped the mujik’s hand. Then, recovering himself with a sudden effort, “Friend,” said he, “how long have I been in thy hut?” “Three days.” “Three day3 lost!” “Three days hast thou lain uncon scious.” “Hast thou a horse to sell me?” “Thou wishest to go?” “At once.” “I have neither horse nor carriage, little father. Where the Tartar has passed there remains nothing!” “Well, I will go on foot to Omsk to find a horse.” ! uunst upon ms mind at the same time that this traveler was the old Zingari whose words he had overheard iu the market place of Nijni Novgorod. The mujik and Michael resumed their Vay and arrived at the posting house. | To leave Omsk by one of the breaches | would not be difficult after nightfall. “A few more hours of rest aua tnou wilt be in a better condition to pursue tby journey.” “Not an hour!” “Come, now,” replied the mujik. rec ognizing the fact that it was useless to struggle against the will of his guest, “I will guide thee myself. Besides,” he added, “the Russians are still in \ *^ s *- or purchasing a carriage to.replace great force at Omsk, and thou couldst j tarantass, that was impossible, perhaps pass unperceived.” “Friend,” replied Michael, “heaven reward thee for all thou hast done for me.” “Reward! Only fools expect reward on earth,” replied the mujik. Michael Strogoff went out of the hut. When he tried to walk, he was seized with such faintness that without the assistance of the mujik he would have fallen, but the fresh air quickly re vived him. He then felt the wound in his head, the violence of which his fur cap had lessened. With the energy which he possessed he was not a man ; There was none to be let or sold. But what want had Michael Strogoff now for a carriage? Was he not alone, alas? A horse would suffice him, and, very fortunately, a horse could be had. It was an animal of mettle, capable of enduring much fatigue, and Michael Strogoff, accomplished horseman as he was, could make good use of it. The horse cost a high price, and a few moments later Michael was ready to start It was then 4 o’clock in the afternoon. stepping back. “Michael!” again cried his aged moth er. “My name is not Michael. I never was your son! I am Nicholas Korpa- noff, a merchant of Irkutsk.” And suddenly he left the public room, while for the last time the words re echoed: “My sou, my son!” Michael Strogoff. by a desperate ef fort, had gene. He did not see his old mother, who had fallen back almost in animate npon a bench. But wlicn the tce W01 [ ld 1 TV ’°y ! y I j impatience, requiring of him one tiling deny a son whem God Has given me? , J ^ to beai - him rapidly to Ivan Ogareff regarded with an evil j > ll0U se. where lie could eye the old woman who had braved changed for a 5cker conve y 2 nre. him to the race. He did not doubt but , midnight he bad cleared seventy that she had recognized her son in this j V(?rsts aad bahed at the station of Ko u young Siberian. Now. if this son had ]ikovo But there , as be feared, lit first renounced his mother and if his . , ... „ mother renounced him in her turn it could occur only from the most weighty motive. Every circumstance went to confirm his suspicions. If he could but lay his lie found neither horses nor carnages. Several Tartar detachments had pass ed along the highway of the ste; ?e Everything had been stolen or requ:. - tioned both in the villages and iu the i posting houses. It was w^j.h diffic- .lty postmaster hastened to assist her the j upon this pretended merchant of j lhat Michael Strogoff was even able to aged woman raised herself. Suddenly I Irkutsk and stuped his disguise, would , obtain some refreshment for his horse a thought occurred to her. She denied by her son! It was not possible. As for being herself deceived and taking another for him—equally impossible. It was certainly her son whom she had just seen, aud if he hml not recognized j her it was because he would not, it Michael Strogoff, compelled to wait I was because be ought not, it was be- till nightfall in order to pass the forti- - cause he had. some cogent reason for to~succurnb "under''such aTriflT BeTore j Gcations, but uot desiring to show him- acting thus! And then, her mother his eyes lay a single goal—far distant; Irkutsk. He must reach it! But he must pass through Omsk without stop ping there. “God protect my mother and Nadia!” he murmured. “I have no longer the right to think cf them!” Michael Strogoff and the mujik soon arrived in the mercantile quarter of the lower town, and, although under mili tary oceupatiou, they entered it with out difficulty. The surrounding earth work had been destroyed In many places, and there were the breaches through which the marauders who fol lowed the armies of Feofar-Kabn had penetrated. The mujik was conducting his guest straight to the posting house when in a narrow street Michael Strogoff, com ing to a sudden stop, sprang behind a jutting wall. “What is the matter?” quickly asked the mujik, much astonished at this sud den movement. “Silence!” hastily replied. Michael Strogoff, with his finger on his lips. At this moment a detachment de- i bouched from the principal square Into i the street which Michael Strogoff and his companion had been just following. At the bead of the detachment, com posed of twenty horsemen, was an offi cer dressed in a very simple uniform. Although be glanced rapidly from one eide to the other, he could not have seen Michael Strogoff owing to his pre cipitous retreat. The detachment went at full trot into the narrow street Neither the officer nor his escort concerned themselves about the inhabitants. Several unlucky ones had scarcely time to make way for their passage. There were, there fore, a few half stifled cries, to which the thrusts cf the lance gave an instant reply, and the street was immediately cleared. When the escort had disappeared, “Who Is that officer?” asked Michael Strogoff, returning toward the mujik. And while putting the question his face was pale as that of a corpse. “It is Ivan Ogareff,” replied the Sibe rian, but in a deep voice which breath- j ed hatred. “He!” cried Michael Strogoff, from whom the word escaped with an accent of fury which he could not conquer. He had just recognized in this officer the traveler who had struck him at the posting house of Ichim, and, although he had only caught a glimpse of him, it self in the streets of Omsk, remained in : feelings arising within her, she bad but the posting bouse and there partook of I one thought—“Can I unwittingly have food. ! ruined him?” There was a great crowd in the pub- i “I am mad «” s k e sldd to her Inter- lic room, it being the resort of numbers i rogators. “My eyes have deceived me! cf the anxious inhabitants, who at this I This young man is not my child. he not find a treasure indeed? Would not his superiors well reward his adroit ness and his success? Would not the czar of Russia scowl with rage when he learned that his courier was in the \ hands of his foes? Ivan Ogareff had therefore no doubt that the pretended Nicholas Korpnnoff was Michael Strogoff. courier of the czar, seeking concealment under a false name and charged with some mission which it would have been important j and himself. j It was of great importance therefore : to spare bis horse, for he could not t .11 when or how he might be able to re- 3 pl a ce it. Desiring, however, to put the ■ greatest possible distance between Iiim- j self and the horsemen whom Ivan Oga reff had no doubt dispatched in pursuit, ! he resolved to push on. After oue ] hour’s rest he resumed his course across j the steppe. And on July 30, at 4 p. m., Michael " ^ XI LI V.i VU UUIJ UV, w -X . Ul., * for him to know He thereiore at once- i ^t rogo ff, heedless of fatigue, arrived at eventful period collected there to ob tain news. They were talking of the expected arrival of a corps of Musco- I vite troops, not at Omsk, but at Tomsk, a corps Intended to recapture that town i from the Tartars of Feofar-Kahn. | Michael Strogoff lent an attentive ear : to all that was said, but took no part in the conversation. i Suddenly a cry made him tremble, a ' cry which penetrated to the depths of his soul, aud these two words, so to speak, rushed into his ear: “My son!” His mother, the old woman Marfa, was before him! Trembling, she smil ed upon him. She stretched forth her arms to him. Michael Strogoff arose, lie was about to throw himself— The thought of duty, the serious dan ger for his mother and himself in this unfortunate meeting, suddenly stopped him, and such was his command over himself that not a muscle of his face moved. There were twenty people In the pub lic room. Among them were perhaps spies, aud was it uot known in the town that the son of Marfa Strogoff belonged to the corps of the couriers of the czar? Michael Strogoff did not move. “Michael!” cried his mother. “Who are you, my good lady?” Mi chael Strogoff stammered, unable to speak In bis usual firm tone. “Who am I, thou askest? Dost thou no longer know thy mother?” “You are mistaken,” coldly replied Michael Strogoff. “A resemblance de ceives you.” The old Marfa went up to him and, looking straight into his ej r es, said: “Thou art uot the son of Peter and Marfa Strogoff?” Michael Strogoff would have given his life to have locked his mother in his arms, but if be yielded it was all over with him, with her, with his mission, with his oath! Completely master of himself, he closed his eyes .in order not to see the inexpressible anguisb which agitated the revered countenance of bis mother. He drew back bis bands in order not to touch those trembling hands which sought him. “I do not k|iow, in truth, what it Is ypu say, my good woman,” be replied, He had not his voice. Let us think no | more of it. If we do, 1 shall end by • finding him everywhere.” Less than ten minutes afterward a Tartar officer appeared in the posting house. “Marfa Strogoff?” he asked. “It is I,” replied the old woman in a j tone so calm and with a face so tran quil that those who had witnessed the meeting with her son would not have ' known her' “Come,” said the officer. Marfa Stro goff, with firm step, followed the Tar tar officer and left the posting house. Some moments afterward Marfa Stro- j goff found herself in the chief square and In the presence of Ivan Ogareff, to whom all the details of this scene had been immediately reported. Ivan Ogareff, suspecting the truth, in terrogated the old Siberian woman. * “Thy name?” he asked in a rough voice. “Marfa Strogoff.” “Tbou hast a son?” “Yes.” “He is a courier of the czar?” “Yes.” “Where is he?” “At Moscow.” gave orders for his pursuit. Then he said: “Let this woman be conducted to Tomsk,” returning toward Marfa Stro goff. And while the soldiers brutally drag ged her along be added between bis: teeth: “When the moment arrives, I shall know how to make her speak, this oid: sorceress!” ! Elamsk. There he was forced to give a night's rest to Ids horse. The courageous beast could not have continued that journey any longer. At Elamsk there was no mean; of transportation for the same reasons as in the burghs already passed by—car riages and horses were gone. [AO BE CONTINUED.J CHAPTER IX. T was fortunate that Mi chael Strogoff had left the posting house so prompt- , ly. The orders of Ivan Ogareff had been tame- ! diately transmitted to all the approaches of the city and a full description of Michael sent to all the various commandants. In order to prevent his departure from Omsk. But he had already passed through one of the breaches in the for tifications. His home was galloping i over the steppe, and, not having been womjuh IS LIKE A DELICATE BSVSiGAL SNS7RUF.*.E**T In good condition she is sweet and lovable, and sings life's song on a joyful harmonicus string. Out of order or unstrung, there is discordance and unhappiness. J ust as there is one keynote to all music so there is one key note to health. A woman might as well try to fly without wings as to feel well and lock well while the organs that make her a woman are weak or diseased. She must be her. Ay inside or she can’t be healthy outside. There iiui.iiti.wus iare thousands of women suffering silently ail immediately pursued, the chances of . over ^ country _ Mistaken modesty urges “Thou hast heard no news of him?” “No nows.” “Since how long?” “Since two mouths.” “Who, tbeu. was that young man whom thou didst call thy son a few moments ago at the posting house?” “A young Siberian whom I took for him,” replied Marfa Strogoff. “This is the tenth man in whom I have thought I recognized my son since the town has been so full of strangers. I think I see him everywhere.” “So this young man was not Michael Strogoff?” “It was not Michael Strogoff.” “Dost thou know, old woman, that 1 can torture thee until thou avowest the truth?” “I have spoken the truth, and torture will not cause me to alter my words in any way.” “This Siberian was not Michael Stro goff?” asked a second time Ivan Oga reff. “No, it was not he,” replied a second escape were in his favor. It was on the 29th of July, at 8 o’clock iu the evening, that Michael Strogoff had left Omsk. This town is situated about half way between Moscow and Irkutsk, where it was necessary that he should arrive within ten days if he wished to get ahead of the Tartar col umns. It was evident that the un lucky chance which had brought him Into the presence of his pother had be trayed his Incognito. Ivan Ogareff was no longer ignorant of the fact that a courier of the czar had just passed Omsk, takin,: the direction of Irkutsk. The dispatches which this courier bore must have been of immense impor tance. Michael Strogoff knew, there fore, that every effort would be made to capture him. But what he did not know and could not know was that Marfa' Strogoff was in the hands of Ivan Ogareff and that she was about to atone, perhaps with i her life, for that natural exhibition of her feelings which she had been unable to restrain when she suddenly fonnd herself in the presence of tier son. And it was fortunate that he was ignorant of it Could he have withstood this fresh trial? Michael Strogoff urged on his horse. time Marfa Strogpff. “Do you think ImbuiQ " him own feverish modesty their silence. While there is nothing more admirable than a modest woman, health is of the first importance. Every other con sideration should give way before it. Brad- field’s Female Regulator is a medicine for women’s ills. It is thesafestar.dquick- est way to cure leu- corrhea, failing of {he womb, nervous ness, headache, backache and gen eralweakness. You will be astonished at the result, es pecially if you have been experiment ing with other so- called remedies. We are not asking you to try an uncer tainty. Bradfield’s Regulator has made happy thousands of women. What it has done for others it can do for you. Sold in drug stores for $1 a bottle. A free illustrated book will be sent to all who write to tHE BRADFIELD REGULATOR CO. Atlanta, 6a.