Newspaper Page Text
THE MAGAZINE PAGE
“Initials Only” *
A Thrilling Mystery L
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
( r,nviight. 1911, Street & Smith.)
(Copyright, 19H. by Dodd. Mead & Co.)
.•The doak doesn't help." he declared.
■y n one remembers the cloak. But the
f Mrs Watkins' arrival was all
time di .'it*--
t ght ca,ne * n directly on the heels
pf this catastrophe."
• ■She did! Sweetwater, 1 will see her.
Manage it for me at once."
jhe clerk says that it had better he
_ She is a very sensitive woman,
upstair, •
There might be a scene if she were in
tercepted on her way out."
•Very well.” But the look which the
Old detective threw at his bandaged legs
was not without its pathos.
\ r d so it happened that just as Mrs.
Watkins was watching the wheeling out
her trunks, there appeared in the
Norway before her an elderly gentleman,
a-hose expression, always benevolent, save
•p moments when benevolence would be
ite ~.|t of keeping with the situation.
~l for some reason, so marked ,<n effect
"p„ n her that she colored under his eye.
m.| Indeed, showed such embarrassment.
Th all doubt of the propriety of his in
vanished from the old man's mind,
villi ihr ease of one only too well
o. isit.mc'i to such scenes, he kindly re
ntarked
i speaking to Mrs. Watkins, of
Nashville?”
Vi’U are." sin faltered, with another
change of color. “I—l am just
, r tn g | i-tipc you will excuse me. 1-
■ i w; -h I could." he smiled, hobbling
i; ami t onfronting her quietly in her own
r ( u rn “But circumstances make it quite
Imperative that I should have a few words
mill v (l <«n a topic which need rot be
d’ole to you. and probably will not
be \l\ name Gryce. This will prob
ahl- < r.v< y nothing to you. but I am not
luAr- wn to the management below, and
ni , y r . :l -s m ist certainly give you confi
.••cnep : n the propriety of my errand. A
, jin.; ami charming young woman died
i.ip lasi night. May I ask if you knew
I She was trembling violently now.
•> wh ’her with indignation nr some
nthcr n • subtle emotion, it would be
difficult »o say. “No; I’m from ihe
-nth. I never saw the young lady. Why
<;.) \<j; ask” I do not recognize ynur
■ ght. I I
(’criainly her emotion must me that
. f -nr■ : n«!ignation. Mr. Gryce made
nr • f is low bows. and. propping him
cr • ajijrisi the table he stood before.
• •.
• ’ h; I rather not force my rights. The
ir. - ter is so very ordinary. I did not
v i|.n< <e \ou knew Miss Challoner. but
<r- must begin somehow, and as you
came in al the very moment when the
alarm was raised in the lobby. I though
perhaps >ou co: Id tell me something
which would aid me in my effort to elicit
the real frets of the case. You were
crossing t'-p lobby at the time-—*’
Ye>' SIl raised her head. “So were
fl f|o-. ( j >(bers—"
“Ma-kni." the interruption was made
in ids kindliest tones, but in away which
nevertheless suggested authority. ‘Some
thing was picked up from the floor at
that moment. If the dozen you mention
were’witnesses to this act we do not
i now it. But we do know that it did not
’;i s unobserved by you. Am 1 not cor
rc- :-.’ I‘idn’t you see a certain person—T
’v i' mention no names—stoop and pick
ii'. someth ng from the lobby floor?”
N- The word came out with start
ling violence. “I was conscious of not ti
ng but the confusion.” She was facing
Il.d with determination and her eyes
wer< fixed boldly on his fa ■?. But her
l l»< quiver J and her cheeks were white,
too whit iou for simple indignation.
footed
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A. < ’“!* k '"” n •• B««,S.tat, »' r IVS Rehl. I«
r
By Anna Katherine Green
Story of Modern Tinies
“Then I have made a big mistake.”
apologized the ever-courteous detective.
"Will you pardon me? It would have
settled a very serious question if it could
he found that the object thus picked up
was the weapon which killed Miss Chal
loner. That is my excuse for the trou
ble I have given you."
He was not looking at. her; he was
looking at her hand which rested on the
table beiore which he himself stood.
Did the lingers tighten a Tittle and <1 g
into the palm they concealed? He thought
so. and was very slow in turning limping- I
ly about toward the door. Meanwhile,
would she speak? No. The silence was
so marked, he felt it an excuse for steal
ing another glance in her direction. She
was not looking his way but at a door in
the partition wall on her right; and the
look was one very akin to anxious fear.
The next moment he understood it. The
door burst open, and a young girl bound
ed into the room, with the merry cry;
"Ail ready, mother. I’m glad we are
going to the Clarendon. 1 hale hotels
where people die almost before your '
eyes.”
What the Mother said at this outburst |
is immaterial. What the detective did is
not. Keeping on his way. he reached
the door, but not to open it wider; rath
er to close it softly but with unmistak
able decision. The cloak which envel
oped the girl was red and full enough j
to be called voluminous.
“Who is this.’ demanded the girl, her
indignant glances flashing from one to (
the. other.
“1 don't know." faltered th? mother in '
very evident distress. “He says he has a
; right to ask us questions and he has
i been asking questions about—about—”
“Not about me," laughed the girl, with :
1 • a toss of her head Mr. Gryce would have
‘ i corrected in one of his grandchildren.
I "He can have nothing to say about me."
I And she began to move about the room
i in ;.n aimless, half-insolent way.
1 ' Mr. Gryce stared hard at the few re-
1 maining belongings of the two women,
lying ?n a heap on Che table, and half
1 , musingly , half ckpreca tingly, remarked: •
‘‘The person who stooped wore a* long
I red cloak. Probably you preceded your
• | daughter. Mrs. Watkins."
The lady thus brought to the point ,
; made a quiet gesture toward the girl
I who suddenly stood still, and. with a ris- '
ing color in her cheeks, answered, with
I some show of resolution on her own part :
' "You say your name is Gryce and that
you have a right to address me thus
‘ pointedly on a subject which you evi-
■ (dently regard as serious. That is not ex-
• ! act enough for me. Who are you. sir?
i What is your business?”
' 1 "I think you have guessed it lam a ,
r ■ detective from headquarters. What I i
' | want of you I have already stated |
1 i Perhaps this young lady can tell me what |
i you can no:. ] shall be pleased if this;
1 I is so."
“Caroline" Then hr mother broke
1 j down. “Show the gentleman what you i
( picked up from he lobby floor last nigh:." ■
The girl laughed again, loudly and with
‘ evident brrvado, before she threw the
cloak ha<-k and showed what she had
*i evidently been holding in her hand from
1 [the first, a sharp-pointed, gold-handled
■ ; paper-cutter.
' j “It was lying there and I picked it up.
1 1 don t see any harm in that."
r | “You probably meant none. You
; played in this tragic dratpa,” said the old
( | detective looking carefully’ at the cutter'
: which he had taken in his hand, but not i
so carefully that he failed to note that !
; the look of distress was not lifted from ,
I the mother's face either by her da ugh- I
r i ter s words or manner.
’ i “You have washed this?" he asked.
' “No. Why should 1 wash it? It was
clean enough 1 was just going to give ■
’ it in at the desk. I wasn’t going to car- I
jry it away." And she turned aside tn |
’ the window and began to hum. as though }
! done with the whole matter.
I Tile old detective rubbed his chin,
; glanced again at the paper cutter, then
r.t the girl in the window, and lastly at
the mother, who had lifted her head)
again and was facing him bravely.
* “It is very important," he observed to
I the latter, "that your daughter should
l ■be correct in her statement as to the
I condition of this article when she picked
,it up. Are you sure see did not wash it
• ! “l don’t think she did. But I’m sure
t she will tell you the truth about that.
. Caroline, this is a police matter. Any
mistake about it may involve us in a
world of trouble and keep you from gel
ling back home in lime for your coming
’ out party. Did you—did you wash this
• cutter when you got upstairs, or or
she added, with a propitiatory glance at
Mr. Gryce- "wipe it off at any time be-
► tween then and now? Don’t answer hast-
I ily. Be sure. No one can blame you for
I that act. Any girl, as thoughtless as
? you, might do that.
. “Mother, how can I tell what I did
“(flashed out the girl, wheeling round on
I her heel till she faced them both. “I don't
I remember doing a thing to it. I just
brought it up. A thing like that belongs
to the tinder. You needn’t hold it out to
! wards me like that. I don't want it now;
I’m sick of it. Such a lot of talk about a
paltry thing which coiildn't have cost ten
I dollars." And she wheeled back.
To Be Continued in Next Issue.
——
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i As a Baby's.
Large Porcelain Jar 25c
FOR SALE BY
'All Jacobs’ Stores
AND DRUGGISTS GENERALLY.
SUFFERED 14 YEARS WITH ITCHING
PILES, TETTERINE CURES THE CASE
Mr .1 T stHMriiw. V,
... <«l< *K l * I hurt » II h >'« I’ll ■
I r,.. I( ■ if» "1.1 then . m.Uiet until I had
■i 1 T.Jurtne I ’ll «- Ip" p" ’"-I
r yxEUQUKId
1 k if £ I’pur. Uhl.a.l and I’’ « Habit rraat.
’ ft li N ad .1 «.»• or al Ainllarluoi Bo"* »
; .WIJW T auuael fno DA B M
| 34 N Viciui sanitarium. Atlanta, t.a I
a e A Fetching Evening Gown Type b
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Mil wasmkv
B Wk - I
mi ; '
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; Over
an
; underskirt
of
white
J silk
muslin
is a
(second
dress
in
black
silk
muslin,
on
which
iis
placed
a
tunic
of
open
if net-work
made
of
white
pearls.
'Hie
long
white
muslin
sleeves
■: a re
[j transpar
ent.
Do You Know—
■
| Young men who desire to "walk out'
' with members of the Bethany Club for
I Girls, of Chicago, must henceforth sup-
I ply the club matron with a certificate
I of moral, social and financial reliability.
I The girls protest that such restrictions
I destroy the romance of courtship.
The American census has revealed
some strange ways of making a living.
One man's sole business is bottling
smoke from burning hickory logs and ;
selling it for smoking meat in airtight
safes, while another occupies himself
in robbing walruses of their mustache
quills and selling them to the Chinese
for toothpicks.
It is the duty of bachelors to adopt
babies, is one of the maxims of Mr.
John O'Connor, a wealthy Chicago mer
chant. Mi. O'Connor is foster-father ,
to six children, all orphans, and he
nrob iblv knows more about bringing :
up children than any other unmarried :
man in the United States. He has
had them under his care for four years,
and has persuaded three young bache
lor friends to follow his example. Fie
says that every unmarried man mak
ing more than S2O a week should adopt
an orphan.
Some interesting particulars are pub- '
lished by the Postal Union at Berne |
relative to the circulation of postcards .
in different countries of the world. Ger. 1
many leads the way with a milliard
and a half per annum, a milliard being .
one thousand millions. Japan follows ]
with 894.000,000 and Great Britain with I
845,000.000. For other countries the 1
numbers given are as follows: Austria.
432.000,000: Russia. 290,000,000; Italy, ,
137,000,000; Hungary. 113,000,000. |
France only sends out 30,000,000. prob- I
ably on account of the high rate of
postage—ten centimes.
A woman water diviner, who also ’
has the gift of locating naphtha springs (
and gold and silver deposits, has been ■
discovered in Vienna. She has made
several extraordinary finds recently. <
An association of petroleum well own- *
ers made her an offer recently of a ,
large sum to give them her exclusive ,
service, but she has accepted another i
offer from an American multi-milllon- 1
aire to go to the United States on his
behalf. He is understood to be seeking '
for potash fields. The diviner is to be '
paid a fee that runs into five ligur-s.
and is to have, moreover, a princely '
allowance for traveling expenses
i
CASTOR IA
For Infants and Children.
The Kind You Have Always Bought
Daysey Mayme
and Her Folks
By FRANCES L. GARSIDE.
THE INNOCENT CAUSE.
rpHE Old-Fashioned Woman had
I arrived at the home of Lysander
John Appleton the day before.
Though she traveled alone*, and the dis
tance was short, she carried with her
an enormous basket in which were
packed fried chicken, doughnuts and
pies, to eat on the train.
"There's no telling," she said, when
packing up a lunch that would have
lasted the inhabitants of the ark for a
week, "what will happen when one gets
on the train these days.”
In her little country home, the fami
ly went to bed at 9. She was scan
dalized when the Appletons sat up till
12. She decided she wouldn't tell Pa
about such late hours when she wrote
home: he might think she had fallen
into evil ways.
She awoke at 4 o'clock. "Mercy," she
said to herself, "but I am getting shift
less! I ought to have been up a full
half hour ago."
"Town folks," she mused whep she
had dressed and heard no one stirring,
"do get lazy. Perhaps Lysander and
Martha don't get up till 5."
She read a chapter in her Bible, sat
at the window and looked out over the
city, apologizing to herself as she did
It. for to sit with idle hands IN THE
MORNING was a crime in her part of
the world.
Five O'clock came, and still no one
stirred. She began to grow uneasy.
She had read of such horrible things
happening in a big city. Perhaps a
burglar had been in the house in the
night. Perhaps he had committed a
worse clime!
If she could only hear a snore! What
comfort, what assurance, there would
be in a snore! She would know then
the family were still alive!
She waited till 6. Then, between
hunger and alarm, she wa- almost
crazed. "I know they are all dead!'
she cried.
She walked the floor a half hour
longer. It was 6:30 and not a sound of
a living creature in the house!
She walked, with bated breath and
timed step, down the stairs to the
front door ami looked out. She would
call for help. She saw no one to call.
She would go back and look in the bed
rooms. She crept upstairs again and
reached a bed room door, but hadn’t
the courage to turn the knob.
A clock in the hall struck 7. That
was the confirmation of her worst fears,
and with a scream she ran to the front
door, threw it open, and gave screech
after screech. "Help! Help!" she
screamed. "They'Vf been murdered in
their beds!"
This explains wh> the Appletons
were awakened by policemen, newsboys
and milkmen tearing wildly Into their
rooms, and wlix the patrol wagons
dashed up. followed by th, fire depart
ment.
h a so explains win th, ttbl-Fash
lotied Woman went hottie that day
"I never expected." she sobbed to
Pa "to sec the day when any one my
age would be talked to the WOV those
Appletons talked to me”
O?<] I
'rhe
s
bodice
; opening <
in
a
point
is
ver\
; becoming,
and
the
whole
makes
a
f verv
< . . f
original
Toilet
which
will
be
found
charm- f
f t ?
ingly
' adapted I
to
< dinners
where
i extremely \
'• low
f I
neck
dresses
are
not
worn.
Up-to-Date Jokes
Fair Maid: "I wonder what causes
the flight of time?"
Brilliant Young Man: "It is probably
urged on by the spur of the moment."
Mrs. Modus: "Well. George, you
I promised me a new bonnet."
George: "1 promised you a new bon
net! " When?”
Mrs. Modus: "Before you married
me you swore that disgrace should
never rest upon my head through you;
and what do you call this shabby
thing on my head now?”
Governor of Jail (in a passion, to
warden) —I say, Keylock, the scoundrel
has turned refractory once more; pul
him on bread and water for two days a
week.
Warden —But. governor, he is already
doing a couple of fast days.
Governor —Then give the fellow a
cookery book to read on those days.
Farmer (to one of his laborers, who
lutd come home after his first training
in the militia)—"Whidh would you
rather be. a soldier or a farm hand,
Paddy?”
pat—"A soldier, of course."
Farmer —"And why so, Paddy?"
p a t —“ Well, you see, you'd be a long
time working for a farmer before he’d
"e ll you to stand at ease."
"Ah. yes," murmured Miss Scredcher.
after the first selection at the mus
ical. "I have had some exciting ex
periences <'omlng over here from New
York a terrible storm arose, and I had
to sing to quiet the immigrants. You
should have seen the heavy sea run
ning."
And the big, rude man in the pink
necktie gazed out of the window.
"I don’t blame the sea," he muttered.
When Governor Head was in office in
New Hampshire Colonel Ba rett. of the
governor's staff, died, and there was an
unseemly scramble for the office even
while his body was awaiting burial
with military honors. One candidate
ventured to call upon Governor Head.
"Governor." he asked, “do you think
you would havV any objection if I was
to get into Colonel Barrett's place?"
The answer came promptly:
"No. I don't think I should have any
objection if the undertaker is willing "
A well-known America! soldier Gen
eral Nelson A. Miles, became reminis
cent at a dinner one evening.
"There is a lot of humor, real humor,
to be found on battlefields." he said.
"I remember the case of a retreat
which) was really a rout. In this re
treat the commanding general, as he
galloped along like the wind, turned
his horse to the limit, and asked.
"'Who at'e our rear guard"
The aides, w ithout the slightest hes
itation. replied:
" 'Th, boys who h ive the worst
horses, sir.' ”
:: Love Asks No Test ::
By Beatrice Fairfax
a young man." writes Joseph
| C. "I am twenty years old and
engaged to a girl of the same
age. Is it possible for me to test my
love? At times I think that there is
no one in the world that could take this
girl’s place. Then, again, I ain not so
sure of it. I have spoken to her about
it. and she says not to mind it. as she
feels the same way herself occasional
ly. and that everybody does."
I do not agree with her. The love of
years more mature than yours pauses
to ask if marriagt® is the part of wis
dom, but when men of twenty love, they
do not ask it.
To the majority of your age there is
no more doubt that the heart's selec
tion is the right one than there is that
the sun will rise tomorrow. Youth has
no room fdr apprehension nor fear.
Either you are much older than your
years or you do not really love.
For the sake of the girl, let us hope
it is the former. But. whatever the
cause, your doubts, though momentary,
should not be lightly dismissed.
Love has been classified as the great
est thing In the world. "The truth,”
says Henry Van Dyke, "is that the pref
erence of one person for another is
not the greatest thing in the world. It
becomes great only when it leads on.
as it often does, to heroism, self-sacri
fice and fidelity.”
If your love for this girl is merely
your preference for her, it will not
stand the tests that time will require.
It will not lead, as love should lead, to
heroism, self-sacrifice and fidelity.
It is such a perplexing thing to de
fine and so elusive of all analysis that
one can not write rules for gauging its
depth.
Time, alone, writes those rules, and
the love that stands every one, and
shows no sign of weakening, is the
greatest thing in the world.
Time will settle all your doubts, and
as you are only twenty, you can well
afford to listen to its warnings.
It Is a good omen that you and the
girl talk this over together frankly;
it is much better than if either had
doubts and fears and persisted in de
luding the other. Be as honest and
frank in an agreement on a future line
of conduct. Let each be unhampered
by promise or vow for one year, or
more, and let that time be spent in
rr
I antyY n \
pz/y ORUDGEX
Anty Drudge Makes a Donation.
He —“I venture to ask, madam, if you would endeavor to
spare me something for the Home for Broken Down
Washerwomen?”
Anty Drwdjje—‘‘Certainly. PH donate a box of
Fels-Naptha soap. Tell them to use it according to
directions, and they will still be able to do washing,
“ because the Fels-Naptha way banishes all the back
breaking and hard rubbing of wash day; and cuts
washday work in half.”
Why do so many women who do their
own work grow old before their time’
The weekly washing, they will tell
yon, is responsible for their breaking down.
And they tell the absolute truth if they
wash in the old-fashioned way.
Continual rubbing on the washboard
is so bad on the back.
And standing over steaming suds paves
the way for colds.
But the Fels-Naptha way is just as
different from the old way of washing as
Fels-Naptha is different from all other soaps.
Only cool or lukewarm water needed,
in winter or summer, and very little rubbing
’•equired.
In a nutshell Fels-Naptha does most of
the work itself without human assistance.
In using Fels-Naptha, follow the easy
directions printed on the red and green
wrapper.
association with others of the opposite
I am sure that each will find there is
no one like the one who is waiting, and
that all doubts will have vanished when
the time of probation is up.
I am sure that your love will have
grown beyond all room for apprehen
sion—so sure that I count on hearing
of the usual happy ending.
Advice to the
Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
A MATTER OF NO MOMENT.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am sixteen and was going with
a boy the same age. The other day
lie sent me a letter, and my father
would not give it to me. I wrote
and told the boy not to write me
any more letters and I would state
why the next time I saw him.
I have not heard of him since. Do
you think I hurt his feelings?
F. F. G.
Your father was right. I am sure,
and the young man should not blame
you for an obedience which is really
both rare and commendable. You said
you would explain when you saw him.
If he avoids you, it is evident he doesn't
care for the explanation.
Try to put him out of your mind.
THE DANGER IN INDEPENDENCE.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am twenty and deeply in love
with a girl of twenty-one, with
whom I kept steady company for
two years. \Ve were about to be
engaged when we had a misunder
standing, and since then we have
drifted apart. I love her and I am
sure she loves me, but we are both
too independent to make the first
effort at a reconciliation. R. F. V.
if your pride is greater than you"
love, is your love worth offering to a
woman ?
It makes no difference who is in the
wrong, it is your place (as the man) to
take the first step toward a reconcilia
tion. End the drifting, which means
unhappiness, by going to the girl. Tell
her you want to make up. And don't
delay the telling a day longer.