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4 “TUIT CATCQ CiF QH CNIOC” <<*■ m, By META SIMMINS |f I | y. 1/A AI A J V_x 1 k3ll jljlN Vj 1 j Thrilling Portrayal of Life Behind Prison Bars * Author of" Hushed ip FIRST READ THIS:— JACK RIMINGTON, th* hern of the story, and, a man with a mysterious st cret. proposes to and is accepted by BETTY LUMSDEN, the . harming .'<»”ng of SIR GEORGE LUMSDEN who. however, is opposed to Jack because nf th* lat ter’s poverty, but favors PAUL SAXE, k mflhonairr. Pew .ns te.'used f'» marry after telling him that she Is enraged m lack Ret’v r k Ater, MRS. EDITH BARRINGTON, suddenly - t.s from France and horrifies Bett' bv declaring that her p.-yt nusr a rd, EDMOND LEVASSEUR, v-bom sr.e n » se-if'tiv when a girl, ar.d whom she thought dead, has appeared « r ■ demands 2,000 pounds < SIO,OOOI in ten dav«’ time, nr he will tell ANTHONY BARRINGTON everything four days are left and Mrs Bar- rington begs Refty to borrow tb< money front Saxe Hew is horrified a’ •he proposal and refuse*. b- ■ after a frantic appeal from her sister. < ><r>- se.r** The next da\ Betty t** epb-.re to Saxe and he consents t<. give her ?he mor.ev. but .nsts’s 1! A’ ■ ■»* <ll at hi< bouse at 11 o’clock that night Betty oan no’ refuse That e*'ernnon Rimington gets a note from Saxe fiFKing hU”. ’o oal! at 11 20 <-. that night Rimington is puzzled, but goe« end •etorisr.ed ’o see ’-e namepate of J. J. ENS, on the ratling, this mar. being the money-lender whose pertrc■ r* d'Ove TOBY PIVAtrON. Ta■ k’s brother, to South Africa. Rimington ascends the sta if but Is starred to hear a woman’s scream Tie dashes into a room and finds to his horror Pew stand:- g over a dead man with a flagger in her hand The light* f. ;ddenly gn nut Jack calls. ’Betty!" —Now Go On With the Story TODAY’S INSTALMENT. P?rt I. (Continued.) There wr* r.« reply, and it seemed to Rimington that some instinct outside and beyond Ximselt, F<w sense more than I X>’d him tha* h* was alone Alone ■ ’ ’ thX etlddenly darkened room, in a K* :.ge honFs with a dead man’ Bbv (Betty!” His b'ee’h caught with a H. sen sibilant his* sounded dts- ■ tly in the deathly 'en«-e <>i the room. must dn some’hing. He could not is d rhere in that darkness. He took a no 11< . . .. . ■h"Ac Dingbat Family See the Lovely Swiss Shepherdess gg copyright wk. National n< ws Association Qy FJcTYiman. r h 11. _— ———— —— ! r 7.:.TT.F.. ! ., _Z~ ■nJ iSui&et SW6 A 0P " i Take.These JV.W:; IwiWa?ws i - ll',. ■-> = batches her - ’L (iamLo&t- ■ T/lj /tK )■! <0 l-r A/OI A SWEET -f' C .° ■ QuOC V ) ' f P ... I HA\£ A.-OT Aty Kt in z - j X.soAfr 7 ..J jw/u. V \ pass-port luith me i I I ?OH.-s-e-x—. ILiis . ***\ <A X -N VAV - r A ■ ’- IAM A X . v . 4fx |< “ B far <jk U A TAI* C y \ X A v i Min : v * / I dauomter j S BL vkJ' • ! W"\l !«■ _WW* r T■ ’ ’ wHF—VW™ > rJPw C' ’ i \ IrMEiR -j JW-X - "" > ***** : ■the[ f,':; ~ 1 jTZ I ~ II I ri~l(^r K MoTZII ) 4W ■n- < W I , - I r g? C-—(—/A fl \OF HEALTH AAB AS IP , I It. AIUMP 0A) THE I ~ 7W , ' ■the «TT../< I, ZffLft rn Mi HAVE THE ■ ■no.. dT 'N&rTk O pi WR H" vtYV-A y ! 3V iiltei._/A- Ji'" n \ =A — ■-‘I ' < -1? r UzTTZL- I [ V k_ ’ j I f 1 - - p Shcvlock.o the Monk The Adventure of the Assaulted Musician copyright, ku. National News A SS -n MagCT A WOULb- BE ASSASSIN i I JIT imas am } rewST' ~ - ~ X ■■* IKIRIEB SEMEfcAV fcOCXS t —S\XOu To THE n. m ' ‘ * TTempt ON TOu* UFE \ ■■&>£' tlw j • V GROUCHQ, ’ —. at Ke FRjDM ths d SVOftf \ SPOT - J . ™ E CULPRIT WOULD; , z _— KotW . Possibly Tou are an- I UrtNDOW OF A HOUSE 1 U4AS ELS r ~ • f WW -y:- ws K,J ' M *« 1 U TammSa (?«’■■<«»•« hu^les. - bu. I » / C L 5~ w . "'W r ««■« Las r —r , iW Hfcßt s * HE *k iXc ouS£ ? jmiaggr 1 3* st ORY wtNPOW ; 2 |-s ' /?lA-Z ™ f: RCCk& J N ° -' e< - at HARPLUs'. , " ) OPEN * Hi lajHr- "- W - •. - ( |g<»j < or?j -loX I Mr. Bosh--He’s the Busy Guy! (())(()) Copyright, 1912, by International Newsservice. ((Hi)) By Winsor McCay (7His7rJ?lN?i AN?U ' V X Fho' NAi No' Wf/LL MOtA | \// (sAYXXYoo I CAN T BUILD I HIS RUNGAM ' | I (TmXJUsT TO UF A k/FPY !Tls 50 PR'GH-f ' iUOTIO DO IS Dig the 1 DUMP that earth f Lz ... pX WE'RE getting alone’ you men have go t fagged out.' I'M glad Ynu hot soo 1 ’ ICtUAR AND LAY OUR HE - W f U WHteL X Y X / ALONG TO GIVE M_E A LITTLE HELP . I_M AS LIMP AS ! H AVE F'NISHeJ »BUSY DAT FOR; DO pr (- mF( ., iCEMENT'. LET'S GET IT UP OVE.R THAT HILL \ f \ \\ / s L OWLY ? WE’t L UNLESS YOU HELP ME ItL A R.Au. DEARjJ leri euAn , hf' 1 START! ]IL tWOKRY ,T Al ONCE./ K^YH A A7 D PnrL M TOO' ' HAVE TOWORK InEVER G£T IT DOME'—J __ PUT SOME BUILDING OUR ALL DAY ABOUT f Y ' x' A K r. /\ A LITTLE FASTER rs X|CE ON YOUR C’lx <&> lL w Scb/ \ feS.- ~ I v J YOU KNOW. A A A \\ fX ' A / y tv\ /J X V Ass vX \Wn ?X XOJ fw LA v.; -WW W- ~J| Tk \’ J \v7 , (upw \ SY-Y ■' A/ z- / Xx\ ,W X4w 'km X '/ W® Ai mVU/Bi XT? \ ■KYgj %'r rf / Tlx -. uv.'. w BXk! IJO 11'5ms! 4x4 f xx« IyßSt ‘'♦ep forward, then stopped, brought up right and rigid, his nerves tingling, his scalp crisped Downstairs in that crowd ed hall there had broken nut a clamor of clocks striking in many tones ami halt ing cadences the hour of midnight. J’he sound brought home a new thought lo Rimington s mind That open door in the street below, the voices of those flocks, would be calling the attention of passers-b\ Some belated wayfarer a denizen of the street itself where people sought repose so late would be coming THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN ANT) NEWS: MONDAY, JUNE 3. 1912 in to meet perhaps on the staircase a white-faced girl whose xvild eyes would proclaim her secret The thought stirred him to a new act ivity He began to move stealthily across the room, avoiding the direction of the thing that lav at his feet But the dark ness betrayed him He slipped, stumbled and saved himself before he actually reached the floor by a hand outstretched, a hand that encountered something damp and :Jlmp the blood of the murdered man ,\hother moment and his groping hands had touched the body Itself He felt his flesh touch flesh, stiff and scarcely cold. A wave of nausea swept him. uncon sciously he broke into a cry. and. raising himself, caring nothing now for noise or location, stumbled on till his hands, out-* stretched before him, brought him up <lead against a wall, where his groping fingers encountered something that broke ' its smooth surface the switch of an elec tric light. With a weak cry he touched It, and the first sight that the upleaping light re vealed was the staring impress of his own hand, red-painted against the white pan elling of the wall. But of Betty Lumsden, as he turned swiftly, there was no, trace The. room, revealed hy the llgh’s installed in brass sconces against the panelled walls that had flashed up at the touch of his hand, was bare, sparsely furnished with a cer tain dignity despite its shabbiness, with no cover that, could have concealed a mouse only the knife at the foot of that hud- died heap of clothes which looked gr- Tesquely unhuman, those winking gerns on the table, remained to assure i un ti.at. the thing which had happened war: not some hideous dream. Just for a moment the thought came to him that this was a trap. He had been decoyed here for some purpose And then the thought of Betty, white-faced and fear-stricken, blotted the thought out. Recognition. W ith an effort he bent and turned the body round, so that he might examine its face. L’ntll that moment the more fact of death, and the manner by which death had come into that room, had been enough; but now He drew back with a startled cry, and stood staring down at ir. He hardly who or what, he had expected to see, but not this. For the man at his fcpt. his parchment face ivory-hued In death, his scant, un venerable hair clotted with blood, was the man the world knew as .1 J Fitz stephen—the man he had sworn to pun ish, the man who had ruined hundreds, who had killed Toby as surely as he him self had been killed, though he had raised no lethal weapon against him So fate rested the man’s punishment out nf his hands! As Rimington looked at hiir he had a strange feeling that death had wiped out n<> score. Hr stepped to the door. He had not closed it behind him on entrance, he knew that . l>ut it was elo.-ed n<»w Was he locked in? He tried it. and found It to yield to hla touch, and stepping out onto The dimly lit landing, he stood wait ing and listening Silence brooded over the old house like a tangible thing; even the innumerable tickings of the clocks below seemed to blend with the silence, to become part of it: seemed to blend also in a horrible way with the heating of his own heart Then, as he stood there, he started, the sweat breaking out on brow and throat. For. cutting the silence like a knife, there came to him from below a thunderous sound. Loud, sharp, imperative—some one knocking with both the old-fashioned knockers on the double door, and ringing an accompanying summons. Rimington waited, every nerve tense, for some answering sound or movement in the house. In the hall one of the clocks 1 whirred and sharply chimed the quarter of an hour, but that was all. Then knock ing and ringing were reepated—ceased. Before their vibration died there came to him another sound—the sharp, ugly sum mons of a police whistle, shrilling out through the night. In Terrible Danger. Rimington suddenly realized that he was in terrible danger. While he was guiltless of any <rime, he had sense enough to realize that the circumstantial evidence against him was overwhelming. Seized with a panic of fear, he made a dash for a back window and lowered him self over the sill. . An ivy vine helped him to climb down until with a gasp of relief he felt his feet on terra firma again. A climb over a wall and he was in the street again and safe. A taxicab rolled into sight and Rimington hailed it with a cry that was almost a scream. He was standing underneath a stree' lamp when it rolled up and in spite of his ex citement he noticed the driver eyed him curiouslj and suspfciously as he stam mered out "Charing cross” and tumbled inside on the cushions. In another moment the taxicab had started off and Rimington then, for the first time, noticed that his hands and cuffs were stained red. * He placed his hand in a pocket for his handkerchief, hut instead pull*'*] out a little bag. Hold ing it to the light that streamed inter mittently through the cab windows, he gasped, “Betty's hag." and sank back with a gmai: The hag fell to the floor of the taxi-ab and Jack heard something inside it give a peculiar dinking noise. He picked the thing up and dived his hands into it. When he lifted the ion tents out he uttered an inarticulate cry. for there in his palm lav one of the most wonderful and magnificent rubies he had ever seen. He was still staring at it when the cab came to a halt with a grinding of gears and brakes. Hush Money. The evening had been a terribly long one for Mrs. Barrington. “What if Betty should fail in her mission," was her thought, and at times the tension was so great that it was all she could do to keep from crying s>ut. Suddenly there came a crash against the front door and with a start of fright Mrs. Barrington rushed to it and opened it. There, half swooning, lay her sister. her face chalky white. Mrs. Barrington hastily pulled the girl Inisde and closed the door, and then, without waiting to ask questions, busied herself with simple restoratives. In a few minutes Betty was able to stand and. placing her hands on her sister's shoulders, gazed Into her eyes appealingly. “I didn't get the money.” she moaned, “but don't ask me why. I can't tell you.” Then she stumbled away to bed. How Mrs. Barrington lived that awful night through she never knew. The sleepless hours ware spent by her lying back on a pillow picturing to herself a future as black as it was blank—a fu tu-e devoid of happiness, and filled with disgrace and suffering. When the morning came she answered the postman’s knock mechanically, and as mechanically took a letter from him that was addressed to her In a strangely lettered hand. As she tore open the envelope with nervous fingers something fluttered to the ground. Even before she reached to pick it up she saw what it was. A thousand pound note! I'azed. she staggered to a chair and p-iileci out the remainder of the contents. Soon another thousand pounds in notes lav iii her lap, attached to which was a slip of paper. In the same printed hand writing she read "YOl’R HUSH MONEY'.” . That was all. For a couple of seconds Mrs. Barring tor. leaned forward motionless In her chair, staring down at the papers that had scattered from her hand, lying like a sudden shower of white leaves on the dull moss green of the carpet. "Your hush money!" Continued Tomorrow.