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8 4 THE GATFS OF SII FNCF” a story of Love, Mystery and Hate, a ■*• -■— —LlNkjEu Xr> Thrilling Portrayal of Life Behind Prison Bars READ THIS FIRST:— lhe man wl, h Ihe "ecret Rimington is loved by okiTY LUMSDEN. Hie daughter of BAIH evLt UUMSDEN, who. however, would like Bettv tn marry SAXE. lhe latter, while outwardly her friend, ia scheming tn separate her from Jack. Ar. opportunity arises when Bettv is implored by her sis ter. MRS. BARRINGTON, tn help her raise JIO.OOO to silence the blackmailing demands <>f EDMOND LEVASSEUR, whom she thought was dead, and who had forced her AJ r l fk _ ma,r! 'LK fJ years previously. Realizing that her husband. ANTHONY BARRINGTON. Is a man who would never forgive her for conceal ing this affair. Mrs. Barrington, who has no other means of getting the money to silence Levasseur, suggests that Hettv should ask Saxe to lend her the amount Betty reluctantly agrees, and goes to Saxe's rooms for the money Rimington is lured there, also, with a view to compromising Bettv in his eyes, and he arrives in time to discover her standing over the body of a dead man with a dagger in her hand Bettv vanishes in the darkness, and Rimington manages to es-ape from the house in which ho has been trapped Meantime Mrs Harrington anxiously awaits the return of Bettv who ultimately arrives at the Croft in a distressed and exhausted condition without the money Nevertheless, the fIO.OOn reaches Mrs Barrington by post the following morning Who has sent this ''Hush Money." as it is described in the letter" And what terrible mystery Is Hetty involved in’ These are the questions Mrs Barrington asks herself. Barringion surprises his wife and father in-law by suddenly returning from Baris He is picking up the morning newspaper from the floor to read to them an extraordinary item of news that he had noticed while coming in on the train The item is about the murder, and states that Levasseur has been ar . rested for the .-rime "The Lake of Blood," a wonderful ruhv belonging to Fitzstephen, was found on him. in the meantime Rimington leaves the cab that he took after leaxing tlie house of death, and the cab driver calls attention to red stains on his cuffs He hurries away to his rooms He can not imagine how Betty- came to be mixed up In this terrible affair —Now Go On With the Story The dawn came creeping into the quiet room, turning the gas In the globes to pale points of flame The windows of the opposite house stared In at him. stark and livid In the crude light of the dawn ing. r Pit .Jack Rimington saw nothing of The Dingbat Family _^g2!iL?e, e .J. he _bq , gg , S1! . N „,„ ux „. A , Herriman I - -=• » - ’ /SuwTirTTX - =£_ IWW-C _ /To'flJX ', COTis?' iten ! __ chamois whatA -T?- - Tor a clo tp/ng o*l - j£aa|r J - " Tr ~ T * YM l'Th Soln Wimble > .■ r—- - 1 t£__z-^=~7 —rXX - , ’J 74L chamois- is r , m U — —ZlffcOL / a <<\ z \cftA6 tooa6 "*Mni wW§s\ &,> . <iSSk\N X> liS JmmT vwMl«fe. >--.■■ A) ■ r - vA I mt 1 ■ u 1 ~\_SOAT. - J //4A?~ \ThAT DEARS sTv?/ —*/AA - I D '° HE '° lß ME f ~~ T M9X,- M"ILS A & -- - - \ A AlOiSEb \ A- _ / 1 '7 \ K V' KE A r Avas - - j—- -Li 1 /a Sherlocko the Monk The Episode 0 fthe Excited Incendiary gg c„ p> „ Ml . Isl! . N .„„ u N . w , A „. Q Q us M a g er Quick mk. sherlocko G ( TAKE us 'I f SEE THIS Cl C- AR. STUMP ! L’ANSE 1W I ~y PUT him our) T^T' ~~t\ I np am \7 ma 1 T —— Incendiaries TR.iFn L I To Tour./ st 'll Burning, that the ! I^2r' LPRIT business! /"-t-iL. ILL h,m .L’ L _ v ) L ( I AY next time when You can't T~ fc- ST- \ ' rL D,T before any ; fackjAßgruMpi ~ \oear uaL k B—IX Or desperate .. •—< ' -aL /H / 'VI ILA inc, ARE UP oLaT 'ft Z\«7 IN I/-' ™ G * ) /'} 1 ( V -still Putting i &u 'lding an 0 alone’ (umpire I Xr AL our. friend's »\J 'FLiiiL n ' > 'i* <. /Ks - * I undoing '. L 7 <7 - s' vCts-Ls »' L < <Li> £ )f r ’« r ‘w7l 1 .'■« -a \JkJ7tW7X "A / m J f (_ ATT * Mt>T 1 ! A'7 ? - j "Xz 'L -■ 9 W&/ mu i '- r’.-fvX ‘ \ \ ■ Jl. u> is y r It ' n \ zix 1711 i r^ - \77 ESBr /OMI! - MRbSSsf i s x i \ w ■ = / ==± : • JCLCk. QFld HIS L WHAT A LOVE LT ROSE 1 j f'FROM 'You SUCH A'TOKEN WOULtil o J > .-. [ X{] („ , - IE AH MF I VJE«E BUT THE LijSHT MY SOul aS The SUN SHEDS \ ) lt*ay_J=y—T J ■> a. i PETEY' >VE BEEN WAITING p2>c LUCKY ONE IT WAS / ITS RADIANCE O'ER. THE EARTH AT I i MY UCVfe. IS LIKE I EO«L YOU Tb COME ALONG. |'VE Z X f— ———— — . I NITESIDED FOR. • • / NOON DAY I • / \ THE RED RED R.OSF 1 ' 1 WANTED YOU TO Pin THIS RoSE 'AIiDPTcv \ I’/. \ y V ' - > V - E ' - in your, button hole if you /<X \ OH petey ill. wear.it but ' ;S)RH SIR:’ ,< ~ A i ’its ,\ I heart 1 - niiru 1 kinddear \ little while (LZI lZzLj 8W ljh> Lbi fWi/1 WL wL 7L ; Cl lc hi L -- i | f X him with eyes that were held by an In ner vision the vision of his veiled fate, like a great cat that watched and crouched ready to spring. Jack Rimington. now awakened from the stupor of sleep that had stolen on THE ATLANTA GEORGIAX AXD NEWS. FRIDAY, JUNE 7, 1912. him out of the ambush f his fatigue, stared at his reflection in the mirror with a sensation of distaste, that turned to re lief as he heard the movement of the Herman servant as he set out his break fast in the adjoining sitting room. "It s a good thing you haven't to face Heinrich, my friend," he said, grimly, to his reflection In the glass. "Your face Is a hanging face this morning." He waited until he had heard the man leave the room, and then he rushed in and seized the paper that had come up on the breakfast tray eagerly. His hands shook violently as he turned the paper In search of the thing he soug and dreaded; then, as his eyes fell at last on the Staring headlines, an exclamation that was hardly relief burst from his lips and his grip on the sheets tightened. "Shocking murder In the West End. Well Known Money Lender Stabbed. At tempted Theft of the Worlds Third Greatest Jewel—the Lake of Blood." Rimington's color carne and went as he read. Neither Betty Lumsden—the girl he had seen standing like another .lael above the body of the murdered man nor himself. Who had made that descent in the inferno of fear In the suddenly darkened room alone with the man foully done to death, who had shown his fear-twisted face to the besieging police, but another man, had been arrested on suspicion. The sudden relief that had leapt up in Rlmfngion's heart died down almost as suddenly as he read on. but something so sinister and incredible that he put up his hand to his head with a dazen gesture as though for the moment he hardly dared to trust the evidence of his senses. I ate last night Tempest street, a quiet cul-de-sac of old-fashioned residences near Leicester Square, was the scene of a ghastly tragedy, Mr. J. J. Fitzstephen, the well-known money-lender, being found stabbed to death in a room on the first floor of his residence, No. 88-B. The attention of the police was direct ed to the spot by Mr. Paul .Saxe, the well-known financier, who, calling on Mr. Fitzstephen by appointment and failing to gain admittance to the house, had his suspicions aroused by a cry for help and informed the police constable on point duty, who summoned assistance. After considerable difficulty an entrance was made, when a brief but exciting struggle resulted In the capture of the murderer, who had entrenched himself in the back premises of the house. A Baffling Mystery, The motive erf the murder, appears to have been robbery, as the dead man's safe had been ransacked and his collec tion of unset jewels overhauled. The prize of the collection, the world-famous ruby, reputed to be the third famous gem in ihe world and bearing the sinis ter name of the Lake of Blood, was found in the murderer’s possession. "The arrested man, who gives tlfS name of Edmond Levasseur, but appears to be of English nationality, is vehement in protesting his innocence.” The Lake of Blood—in the murderer's possession! But the Lake of Blood was here—in his own pocket. He thrust his hand Into his pocket and drew out the shabby chamois bag and spilled the glit tering wonder that it contained into the palm of his left hand. The great stone seemed to gather the light and hold It, transmitting the sunlight to a glow, deep and wonderful and sensuously beautiful — not of blood, but of time-mellowed wine, Rimington knew little enough of gems, hut the of Blood was a compendium of information in itself. As he gazed at the thing in his hand, that seamed to him to glow with a thousand internal fires, even without his small knowledge of the lapidary’s art, Instinct would have told him that this marvelous thing was of in calculable beauty and worth. And. since there were not two, but only one. Lake of Blood rubies extant, it followed that if this were genuine, as it undoubtedly was, then that other discovered on the person of this man Edmond Levasseur, arrested in Tempest street, was not. M’hat did it mean? It seemed to Rimington that the hun dred red glittering eyes of the stone looked up at him. mocking his horror and bewilderment. Suddenly, as last night in that street of strange, close-eyed houses a sense of evil and dread and fear had come upon him even before he entered the house where murder had been done, so now it seemed to him that from this wonderful jewel that shone so gloriously in his hand, lying there in the light of the sun, there came forth an aura of evil. The room seemed suddenly alive with whisperifig voices, the voices of the dead men whom its beauty had seduced to crimes of blood and treachery and shame —voices that spoke of disgrace and shame and ruined lives and broken friendships. vft, By META SIMMINS ®~ Author of “Hushed Up ’’ With a quick shudder of repugnance Rimington slid the jewel back into its shabby bag and thrust it into his pocket. He did not know what he was going to do with it. or how he" was going to rid himself of its treasure-love so unwillingly acquired, but of one thing he was cer tain. He refused to remain its custodian. The Arm of the Law. Jack Rimington walked quickly down Chandon street and, plunging through the early morning traffic of the Strand, cut into one of the narrow streets that lead, ill savoredly enough, to the river. Like most decisions of real Importance, this decision that obsessed him now, to be rid at any price of the Lake of Blood, the jewel whose very name was a grim commentary on its history, had come to Rimington in one lightning moment. Before he attempted anything else—be fore he went, as he knew he must go, to Weybourne to see the girl he loved—be fore he telegraphed to his assistants at tlie laboratory at Westport—he must nd himself of this evil thing that had come so unwelcomely into his possession. It is one of the most difficult things in the world, as a rule, to dispossess one self of undesirable property in London: but in this case the task promised to be easy enough. The solution had come to Rimington while he dressed. He would simply take a walk across one of the bridges, and, in mid-channel, so to speak, as unostentatiously as possible, fling the evil-omened thing into the water. The early morning business rush from the south side was at its height as he mounted the steps leading to Hunger- ford Bridge. Rimington was glad of this, as his actioh was all the more likely to pass unnoticed in a crowd. He walked with his hand clenched on the thing that lay in his pocket—this stonel worth a king's ransom that men bad schemed and lied and sinned to gain possession of, but that he burned with eagerness to he rid of. His pace was not that of a ntan in tent on reaching business, but rather that of a stranger sauntering interestedly among the crowds that are London's life. Midway across the bridge he paused and, leaning over the parapet, stood for a moment or two looking eastward, to where the dome of St. Raul’s rose gold capped and mist-shrouded in the sun. Then, withdrawing his hand, from his pocket, with a swift twist of his wriet h? sent the chamois bag and its contents flying through the air. The impetus must have broken the fastening of the bag. for in its flight the Lake of Blood escaped from it and dived with a splash of light into the river. With a sigh of relief Rimington turned and walked quickly on. Before he had reached the southern end of the bridge he paused, his heart caught suddenly by a great fear. Someone had touched him sharply on the shoulder and a peremp tory voice had spoken his name into his ear. At the sound of his name Rimington swung round; and in that brief act of turning, as drowning men are said to see the acts of a lifetime flash kaleidoscopic fashion before their eyes, so to him came a lightning vision of what this touch meant. Continued Tomorrow,