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“THE GATES OF SILENCE” READ THIS FIRST:-- JACK RIMINGTON, the man with the secret. Hlmington is loved by BETTY LUMSDEN, the daughter of SIR GEORGE LUMSDEN, who. however, would like Betty to marry PAUL SAXE. The latter, while outwardly her friend, is scheming to separate her front Jack. An opportunity arises when Betty is implored by her sis ter. | MRS. BARRINGTON, to help her raise $10,900 to silence the blackmailing denjands of > EDMOND LEVASSEUR, whom she thought was dead, and who had forced her into a trick marriage some rears previoualy. 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 Betty should ask Saxe to lend her the amount Betty reluctantly agrees, and goes to Saxe's rooms for the monev. Rimington is lured there, also, with a view to compromising Betty in his eves, and he arrives In time to discover her standing over the bodv of a dead man with a dagger in her hand. Betty vanishes in the darkness, and Rimington manages to escape from the house in which he has been trapped. _ Meantime. Mrs. Barrington anxiously awaits the return of Betty, who ultimately arrives at the Croft in a distressed and exhausted condition— without the money* Nevertheless, the $10,090 reaches Mrs. Barrington by post the following morning. Who has sent this "Hush Money." as it Is described In the letter? Anri what terrible mystery Is Betty involved in? These are the questions Mrs Barrington asks herself. Barrington surprises his wife and father in-law bv suddenly returning from Paris. 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 crime. "The Lake of Blood." a wonderful ruby belonging to Fltzstephen. was found on him. In the meantime Rimington leaves the cab that he took after leaving the house of death, and the cab driver calls / attention to red stains on his cuffs. He harries away to his rooms. He • an 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 he opposite house stared in at him. stark and livid In the crude light of the dawn bag But Jack Rimington saw nothing of The Dingbat Family ~ Ooh! See the Bounding Chamois gg Copyright 1912, National News Association By Herriman 1 (OH ~/LL 3£T’Vciu'> Z/M ILL NAVE To 6O~BALK7 (THAT ' SW IS? —: \ __ _ ~ ' DOAJT WOItRY-r' _ /To AiILKIWC- Cows, GOATS IS / \ AAfllb" t>lf> ATT HMfe- / I • - ( rH* 6 - Ts A A ■=?=• ‘ r~ " 7 " z-'-/T©c active. For. a old \Aa/Y-THIAIG OAI >M6. - ~—A -sr" ~ —- -1 —=7 —' £<*E_ ME. To HAW Ie 7 —tSPAAIIOLA \ )LU'*6E'T YOU Z J jSf; ' = — S£s7 •ar M JZ? 'ft ■***■&& """U /Ml* sBBBT' L. I V —'* =w ' 'Asr*?-- ~—~ - - -tru" 1 ’ ~*~!BrClr ~ ■ --” —■w' _ ' ax' A 1 ’j; 7 sSlm ? ~ hey iMiaiaiiE GUieA f~- K W//LW 7V/ fcoA i Convincmd /X.. <4*o i a'Chamoi4V -HAH Y ' &SL & x - JB quick cm e A toox i ,'*T? A wiLb VPIWE > *& 'That 5 A liil I ll 'fi ’ X>> >. chamois- is r vcHAAtois ’ WffiM liPX \'' •> x \ \lßapims WmO> ArrWll r C-. siIWW - | fey./ I L_S L_._ fOfirTSTmo) dk T f ’ rOH mv-wrc Pit> L caw ~ T ’ nA, (Htuoi.’iGAiATZEs-) t [””___ — pD ‘°’’ * 1 -A X’- c'X‘A 0, ’ E5 ’' t ■ * «w /"c_ ' if, 'T'te X«s<s 'J -s*-® ■ ' cja? y^ "' / -dw z /js - I • 1;,.. - ;..a. 1.,1 .... . < I- I .. wL I" . Sherlocko the Monk The Episode oi fthe Excited Incendiary gg] Copyright. 1912, National News Ass’n By Gus Mager [quick MK. sherlocko !\ (take us > I (see r Hli | l®»w «r I " r ?s_fKiu. h im T) dem>i )(no he I __^ s£ _ (SAT FANH<C NEXT TIME WHEN TOU CAN'T ) | IMfFMmae ICC \ To 3 ™-'- BuWNm», that the ‘ LftH'T Oer A SeAr AT ™ e Bounds ano climb \ JNCENWARIG& TRIED TO srofce # w ftETCM66 ovf* ME A s omeeody's roof please 8e Mof<c i OUtN DOWN MT STORE.’. I COME < FENCE tNTC MI KEROSENE £*«*’*"«« ■ ll " 111 - 1 '"jl SEEMS I U ' HEfte ' fo ' J ™N,OW TOUR USHTEb —— 3 1 .— J NOTICED it before any r(A CJ«A»snw’ ' DEAR MkAn \ W— rj co 7"™ c Kf yyyA > A Z ( damage tms Done fjr Uio <3} i bUr »A t F n° ' fS7s u- °V > ; n g^t-1" -.-...:-' ' ' ri,ll ™V-Q- **■> iTIIf IIKI*AZZJTg%gd.IIKI*AZZJTg%gd. Cric« >.«» tmfac W«kth E -~ —— - ? ' ? H h? 6 ' up THERE ~ NttftHsoAHooo xZ-Vt;- ZV RfcT-Y Ct< me r \ j~, Z*v on the roof next equip <T\ VtS &. /C llH!N<we (kill. \ / ''JR' <f *( ' Z/JvS .»«* - z/j"V oct ti\vT %IP ”>w. 11 -1 zX si—i / XL VUXAINE ARE \ (go THAT S. Z m EM M J (UMPIRE< ' 5 Jb /ta ajR p * ,eNo ' s *WW F ■ . s ,undoin«;j- j ' S yj x cyzM tSA s, f] <eo x i B WSLrW wAWP-CI JTw - ' rv : zl ' r F— r - '-feCK Jolm* ? xX. \ \ <7; / \\\. • . ' ~~~* Mr. Jack and His Friend Petey :: :: C p rt '“ > s ‘.?v£‘“““ "'-■ ;; ;; By Swinnerton ■ -■ _ . ---_ - .. . ... ■■' ■■■■■■-■ !„■,■■■■■■■, ,■!,■■■■! „■ » , > I -_1»...l , _ , - ■-- _-- - . . "1. ( 'what a IOVELS rose ’ I "FROM TOU SUCH a token would! v?. j t ‘ 2 41. I* qh pETEY!ive been waiting es>° ' AM IF I WPRiTRuTTHe I UDHT MT SOUL AS THE SUN SHEDS \ • v/vi Wf - .c > \ FOPITOUTO COME AUONG IME Z T r"7 t I i ITS Radiance O’er the EARTH kt . MV ixvfa. IS L'<E |. I WANTEO TOU TD PIN THIS Rose . [oh PETEY ] ’ |Ll_ IT BUT '^t>°f m / V noohoat<- ; y^yy^^Hy 056 „ onuy^; Tout ) ZuplA &B*. \ l SIR ’) / Z Z. _ I ’ITS ( \ <JiX- Y- (ouCH J I beautiful) \ and remember i \ i y '©■» / yy® N ?.° rz Z 3 \ r-C s) / y I xZfc / IwHA-AT?*) /- ' 'X J / *x,j.y uik x yi< y /'*■'< xS a - ; ’ w*gP ■ w- -' q x /jlir /&. W xL mJ Jy > ' shaggy <y I him with eyes that were held by an in > ner vision—she vision of his veiled fate, f like a great cat that watched and i crouched ready to spring. Jack Rimington. now awakened from, f the stupor of sleep that had stolen on THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN AND NEWS. FRIDA Y, JUNE' 7, 1912. him out of the ambush of 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 German 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 sought 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 Wert End. Well Known Money Lender Stabbed. At tempted Theft of the World’s Third Greatest Jewel —the Lake of Blood," Rimington’s color came and went as he read. Neither Betty Lumsden—the girl he had seen standing like another Jael 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 bad leapt up in Rimington’s heart died down almost as suddenly as he read on, hut 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 A Story of Love, Mystery and Hate, with a Thrilling Portrayal of Life Behind Prison Bars dared to trust the evidence of his senses. "Late 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 falling 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 of 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 the world and bearing the sinis ter name of the Lake of Blood, was found in the murderer’s possession. “The arrested man, who gives the name of Edmond Levasseur, but appears to be of English nationality, is vehement in protesting his innocence.” The Lake of 8100d —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 ilme-mellowed wine. Rimington knew little enough of gems, but the Lake of Blood was a compendium of information in itself. As he gazed at the thing in his hand, that seemed 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 w’orth. 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. What 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 whispering voices, the voices of the dead men whom its beauty had seduced to crimes of blood and treacherj’ and shame —voices that spoke of disgrace and shame and ruined lives and broken friendships. 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 the laboratory at Westport—he must rid 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- By META SIMMINS Author of “Hushed Up ’ ’ ford Bridge. Rimington was glad of thii as his action was all the more likely t pass unnoticed in a crowd. He walkei with his hand clenched on the thing tha lay in his pocket—this stone worth I king’s ransom that men had schemed an< lied and sinned' to gain possession of, bu that he burned with eagerness to be ri< of. His pade was not that of a man in tent on reaching business, but rather tha! of a stranger Sauntering InterestedlJ among the crowds that are London’s life Midway across the bridge he paused and. leaning over the parapet, stood fol a moment or two looking eastward, tc , where the dome of St. Paul’s rose gold capped and mist-shrouded in the sun. Then, withdrawing his hand, from his pocket, with a swift twist of his wrist hf 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. M r lth 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 hint 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 cams a lightning vision of what this touch meant. Continued Tomorrow.