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“THE GATES OF SILENCE” FIRST READ THIS:— JACK RIMINGTON, the hero of the story. and a man with a mysterious se cret. proposes to an»i ts accepted by BETTY LUMSDEN, the charming young daughter of SIR GEORGE LUMSDEN, who. however, is opposed to .Jack because of the lat ter's poverty, but favors PAUL SAXE, a millionaire, whom Betty has refused th marry after telling him that she is engaged to Jack. Betty's sister, MRS. EDITH BARRINGTON, suddenly returns from France and horrifies Bott' b> declaring that her first busband. EDMOND LEVASSEUR, whom she married secretly when a girl and whom she thought dead, has appeared and demands 2.M0 pounds <$!0,O00> in ten davs' time, or he will tell ANTHONY BARRINGTON everything only four days are left and Mrs Har rington lags Bell' to borrow lhe ntone' from Saxe. Betty is horrified -at the proposal and refuses, but after a frantic appeal from*her sister, con sents —Now Go On With the Story She felt the ejes of the girl behind the counter in the library Pierre her when she passed through the shop to the box “0061 City.” Once the number was given her nerve steadied a little Her voice was quite normal when, the ordeal of getting through over she spoke Saxe’s name “Yes. Mr. Saxe is in. But who s speak ing? Miss Lumsden? Hold on, will you?” And then Paul Saxe's voice: “That you. Miss Betty* Good morning This is a very pleasant surprise “I —want to see you Mr Saxe I was dreadfully disappointed to find you gone No. it isn’t a bit kind of me to say it I The Dinqhat Family Pah-PAH Decides to Stay Home . copyrightisu.National n # wbamocuuo. Qy Hcmtnttn /you Kaiow, a’C dingbat A T fan mv ves ) x-7 - - ~ f UJE HAMB. THE PRETDEbT X WtlL. UE LLGO uFTHE PpAtfA. n, # \ <. lZ.ovnE.sy most lhaßAhai’gj C"" — j PxK out a e>ooD Cofp ee House. \ I t \WOMEN IN THE. WOftLb -7/ I J ENTER. ANO OSDEK A A>T OF C6PFEES . - pTFiL MR 4 goi>T\ AS UIE. SIP Out COPFfiE f — ' /sx>3 "A— I V / BEHOLD BEFORE OUR. VERY EVES f .->T Rsft W g—M J a,, ADrtiTrC (PASSES THE WORLDS r ( • * LL \ greatest Atftfty OBJ JOu paptupe. . \ STi B f .Vou dont) rne/J'. A- < (oh feast of A < T g I IHRl" jT . /55L.-J-' r~ Irr /wk At -J Ai4W*- ■'LsafMEhWr 1 Z -—L - j 2] / Mu> R.051E see none of f'Tiv ajy aS <vn L t o<; > .Athe CiLe Aint’secn himYT t ~ /<SH i Just sfeu! T tT M/M 6ET ) \ ItMRKiDs l t M RKiDs Go lpar That ><ali Them ' ! > " 7 ’ t •W ano . ( you . ' Sheri ocko the ’.* j- PiS -°j e -..°L the - f ! ee i n 9 U f. g J a . r copyright. 1912. National News Ass'll jgy GtLS HF \N HATS THE MATTER—T VsiEUL, NCVH that lUE’RE) , ' t6s **o THE SchemeY ■ J \NATSO, 'MUL YOU NEVER. LEAR.N TO H !if adcki'y yo.i *> ) amici AWAT FROM YOUR HCCSE I fine ! -She'll i OBSERVE 1 COULbN'T YOU SEE THAT I |gj| ° NC ’ ' / H i And your, wife can't see A n ever auess that Tour supposed burglar was puffing. \ ■ :r ' NE T POUW A C.GAR although APPARENTLY rj |g J VOU &o, IVATSC, I SfW- k ™'S> Running's a—' ( r O tme e>Atu (SAME ' J- 7 K < —C I E i ( 1 1^ A 2 1T e TO AN ! SH ' WBB z° B ' 1 — Ha y~~ s fVeCu 1 H ■ \ H H ±- r L &ue . I .r' 1q K=r r_~"7 — 7 | , J His «"=e ; ■ J . ’ll FUGUG |7 ( LVELU AS ME : j ||| y I i' ' ,'l/ ( ‘, A ’ I'i v v 'rj*|| K? y fcF burglars'. U m / /’Smag; R I ' stop THtp.Fi > __ wt a v\\X-.'GSJ r —z_—; y .[ 1—- a -, Mr. Jack :: :: .. .. By Swinnerton YOU DO MISS (UTYY \ 17 1 ’ f"OH MR FETey J WHYIS^ 1 ~ f STEP EASY.HERE IS 1 OHByVwAY<VEWA > YOUR-DtROAT WRAPPED)’ CS 1 # • I “a“ L )- -<7L£!-A -™ E handsomest mm. -* ■ L. lL - . rq-' ■ I . y-L" N ii I -7- 5 LC“_5> ih-rowN- ffi V— (-aw.cutyYZQ K “HAW'. HAVJ 1 H&W. / k I G Ol A I d'ye think X 15 ) MAWIMWUM 1 - a. Mini ’) ' wEixwHAT yt o xou?y wW aw. i. willy ,- ' A -vi I f orme .wIBI r cX j^|feiiß^>yo u Quilt J U Tw< wi GLv fO S Inr Oa 1 ' \? ’ */ w X3Cr ■-* jf CW. Y < oa’/cV - wJF 1 J A- ■ /TW i ®/Vk 7 >97 S- ■■ > 24>l *7*k- &■ IwL*. ■ want to trespass on your friendship al ready. to ask you a favor.” '!♦ is granted already.” “Oh. no, it s not so easily disposed of as all that ’ She was gaining courage It was easier than she could have imagined possible tn speak with the barrier of space between them I-I’m in trouble. I want 3ou to help me.” ‘ I'm sorry In bear that! What is it? Don't think me brutal, but is it money?” “Yes “Well, now. how much.’ Tell me.” Far off and thinking as his voire was. it seemed to Betty that it had changed ”1 can’t here,“ Betty said, desperately. i-jtiis aiijA.a i a tjrvrotiAA aiw JXtswa: rrtiDAT. mat 41, “Can I see you—-can’t 1 run up? I wouldn’t keep you long. It’s - it’s very’ serious.” There was a pause, a confused buzxing of the wires. For a moment the girl dreaded that Saxe was about to ring off “How much it it? No. you mutt tell me. Two thoutand poundt! Good Lord I beg your pardon, but it it a fairly large turn.’’ “An immense, an impossible, sum Betty’s cheeks were flaming, the hand that pressed the receiver against her ear shook “No. not that. You* shall have it with pleasure Rut there are difficulties. I d like to see you indeed. 1 must. Unfor tunately. I’m going away tomorrow for a month or so, and today—well, today's practically impossible, unless” “I’m afraid after today it will be use less ’ Betty said. “Weil Are you there? Yes. Now. look here it needs pluck, ’but you have that. Will you come up to my rooms to night? I hate to ask you to do it. I’d ask no other w»»man; she’d imagine-- well, you know But you're different I know this must be serious, you Wouldn't have asked me else Now. it’s not pos sible to see you till late this evening Could you come to my rooms here at Tempest street about eleven?” Betty hesitated. Her first impulse was tn ring off. It was an insult- a studied insult A mist swam before her eyes It was only mechanically that her ha rid held the receiver in place. Then acrosa vO, A Story of Love, Mystery and Hate, uith a Thrilling Portrayal of Life Behind Prison Bars the wires came the tinkling voice: "T guess I know what you’re thinking. Miss Betty. Its natural, but it's far wMe of the mark Honestly. 1 want to help you. but it's not in my power to see you till then, and I suggest' Tempest street because we can talk there quietly perhaps I can help you in other ways than money—and we couldn’t do that In a more public place I’ve got an excellent old housekeeper who will assuage the anxiety of Mrs. Grundy." Surely he was to be trusted" And the matter one of hours now. Beggars could not be choosers "I’ll —come," she said. "Bravo! I'm grateful for your trust in me—l admire your pluck." Betty walked out of the library quick ly. her face white and set. The young woman behind the counter who wished her a civil "Good morning" tossed her head with quite justifiable indignation. What was Miss Lomsden that she should look at her as though she did not exist? But, indeed, for Betty In that moment she did not exist. Leaning hack in the corner of the cab. Jack Rimington examined the letter once again. It was by the merest fluke that it had reached him at his lodgings in Chan dos street. Only that unexpected wire from Westport that had delayed Iris de parture till tomorrow was accountable for his being in London at all. and there fore al Mr. F’aul Saxe's service "And what the deuce does that suave individual require of me?" he asked him self. scanning the lines that, in a man's bold handwriting, set forth as follows: “88-B Tempest Street, W. C. "Dear Mr. Rimington: I would esteem It a favor of the greatest possible kind If you could call upon me at my rooms In Tempest street tonight at 11:30. t should hesitate to ask this, knowing as 1 do your engagements at the moment, were not the matter one of the most urgent Impor tance, not only to yourself, but to the lady I understand Is to be your wife. "PAUL SAXE.” "Hang his impudence!" Jack had said when he read that "How much dotfs he know ?" But wild horses would not kept him back from Temple street that night, as no doubt Mr. Saxe probably knew. • The name of Tempest street recalled memories to Rimington. but rather shad owy ones. He was surprised at Mr. Saxe's choice of address. A suite at the Savoy or some such caravansary seemed so very much more in the line of that magnificent personage As he turned into the street his wonder deepened. It was such an odd neighbor hood, this, for a man of Saxe's fastidious ness to choose tn lodge in—this place of narrow streets and tall, dull houses whose windows bore a sly, curtained look. There were flower boxes in some of the win dows—boxes filled with common flowers, nasturtiums and geraniums, that hung drooping in the heat. Here and there at the top of one or two of the area steps, women were standing, who slunk below as he passed and regarded him furtively from their doorsteps. He was one of the least imaginative of young men: his nerves were in superb condition; yet. for all that, he was con scious that there seemed to be about this still, old street an almost palpable at mosphere of gloom and depression — something more—an atmosphere of actual fear. No. 88-B was a hduse, if possible, more dingy than the rest. The long, unpainted stucco was peeling from the bricks, and the uneven stone of the steps looked as though It had not known water and a scrubbing brush for a decade. On the railings a smalt brass plate bore the name, "J. J. Fitzstephen.” The Carrion Crow. The sight of that discolored plate brought those vague memories to a dis tinct coherence. “,T. J. Fitzstephen. Jack Rimington remembered now, with a sudden straightening of the shoulders and a hardening of the lips. That was the. euphonious sobriquet of the carrion crow who had picked poor Toby's bones white. For the moment he suspected a trap. Could the blackguard have got some inkling or suspicion of what lay in store for him? Could he be in league with Saxe, or Saxe with him? Almost before the thought was definite Rimington dis missed it. He hated Saxe, mainly, per haps. because, until a day or two since, By META SIMMINS Author of “Hushed Up” he dreaded in him the successful rival; hut he did not believe that of him. Fitz stephen was a pariah even to his own class. It was merely a coincidence that had brought the men to lodge under one roof Perhaps, no doubt, in fact, the house belonged to the money-lender and he. let it out as chambers for bachelors. The fact that the hall door stood wide open lent countenance to the idea. Rlm ing'on entered it and looked for a name rack on the inner wall instinctively. It was while he looked, and looked in vain, that he became aware bewilderingly of the intricate chorus of ticking clocks. He wondered if there was a watchmaker s shop next door, and turned to see, with a new astonishment, the manner of en trance hall in which he stood. If a man is to be judged by the house he inhabits, what a strange man Saxe must be! That was Rimington's first thought. Then he sickened, remembering the house was Fitzstephen's, the . usurer. No doubt these things, singly so valuable and lovely, so tragically ugly in their hud dled confusion, were wreckage from half a hundred of the homes that he had ruined. And as he stood there staring about him in the economical glimmer of light to which the solitary gas Jet had been turned, sharply through the stillness of the house, whose silence, save for the tick-tacklna of the clocks, seemed to brood like a tangible presence, came the sharp shrillness of a frightened woman's To be Continued Tomorrow.