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4 THE • © A Powerful Story of • • Adventure, Intrigue and Love • • WITHIN THE What Has Gone Before Mary Turner, a beautiful and refined girl, worked in the great Gil der store in New York. There hud been thefts in the store They had been traced eventu ally to a certain department, that in which Mary worked. The detective was alert. Some valuable 1 silks were missed. Search followed immedi ately. The goodn were found in Mary's locker. That was enough. She wat* charged with the theft. She protested innocence—only to he laugh ed at in derision by her accusers Every thief declares Innocence. Mr. Glider himself was emphatic aguinst her The thieving had been long continued. An example must be made. The girl was arrested. The jury found her guilty and she was sentenced to prison for three years. Dick Gilder, the store proprietor’s son, returns unexpectedly from Europe because he was homesick for his father. The latter's secretary tells him that Mr. Gilder has gone to court, that one of the girls was ar rested for stealing "And Dad went to court to get her out of the scrape!” cries Dick. ’That’s just like the old man.” Now Go On With the Story Copyright, 1913, by the H. K. Fly Com pany. The play “Within the Ijw" Is copyrighted by Mr. Veiller and this novelization of it is published by his T*»rmisnion. The American Play Com pany is the sole proprietor of the ex clusive rights of the representation and performance of “Within the Uw" in all languages. TODAY’S INSTALLMENT. Gilder settled himself again in his chair and gazed benignantly on his son. "Pretty well,” he said, contentedly*; “pretty well, son. I’m glad to see you home again, my boy,” There was a great tenderness in the usually rather cold gray eyes. The young man answered promptly, with delight in his manner of speech, and a sincerity that revealed the un derlying merit of his nature. “And I’m glad to be home. Dad, to be"—there was again that clearing of the throat, but he finished bravely— "with you.” The father avo , d'»* a threatening dis play of emotion by an abrupt change of subject to the trite. “Have a good time?” he Inquired cas ually, while fumbling with the papers on the desk. Dick’s face broke in a smile of remi niscent happiness. “The time of my young life!” He paused, and the smile broadened. There was a mighty enthusiasm in his voice as he continued: “I tell you. Dad, It’s a fact that I did almost break the bank at Monte Carlo. I’d have done it sure, if only my money had held out.’’ “It seems to me that I’ve heard some thing of the sort before," was Gilder’s caustic comment. But his smile was still wholly sympathetic. He took a curious vicarious delight in the esca pades of his son. probably because he himself had committed no follies in hts callow' days "Why didn’t you cable me?" he asked, puzzled at such restraint on the part of his son Her Face Lighted. Dick answered with simple sincerity. "Because it gave me a capital excuse for coming home.’’ It was Sarah who afforded a diversion. She had known Dick while he was yet a child, had bought him candy, had felt toward him a maternal liking that In creased rather than diminished as he grew to manhood. Now her face light ed at sight of him and she smiled a welcome. “I see you have found him,” she said, with a ripple of laughter. Dick welcomed this interruption of tbe graver mood. “Sadie. ’ he said, with a manner of the utmost seriousness, “you are looking finer than ever. And how thin you have grown I “ The girl, eager with fond fancies to ward the slender ideal, accepted the oompllment literally. “Oh, Mr. Dick!” she exclaimed, rap turously. “How much do you think I have lost? The whimsical heir of the house of Gilder surveyed his victim critically, ben spoke with judicial solemnity. “About two ounces, Sadie." There came a look of deep hurt on Sa lle’s face at the flippant jest, which Dick himself was quick to note. He had not guessed she was thus acutely sensitive concerning her plump ness. Instantly, he was all contrition over his unwitting offense inflicted on her wmmanly vanity. “Oh. I’m sorrv. "Sadie.” he exclaimed penitently. “Please don’t he really angry with me. Of course. I didn’t mean ” “To twit on facts!” the secretary In terrupted bitterly. Not Plump Enough. “Pooh!" Dick cried, craftily "You sren 1 plump enough to be sensitive about it. Why, you’re just right.” There was something verv hovish about his manner, as he caught at the girl’s arm. A memory of the days when she had cuddled him caused him to speak warm ly, forgetting the presence of his fath er. “Now, don't be angry. Sadie. .Tust give me a little kiss, as you used to do.” He swept her into his arms, and his lips met hers in a hearty caress “There!’’ he cried. “Just to show there's no ill feeling ’’ The girl was completely mollified, though In much embarrassment. “Why, Mr. Dick!" she stammered, in confusion “Why, Mr. Dick!’’ Gilder, who had watched the scene In groat astonishment, now interposed to end it. "Stop, Dick!" he commanded, crisply. “You are actually making Sarah blush I think that’s about enough, son." But a sudden unaccustomed gust of affection swirled in the breast of the lad. Plain Anglo-Saxon as he was, with all that Implies to the avoidance of dis plays of emotion, nevertheless he had been for a long time in lands far from home, where the habits ef impulsive and affectionate people were radically un like our own austerer forms 8o now* under the spur of an impuse suggested by the dalliance wdth the buxom sec retary, he grinned widely and went to his father. “A little kiss never hurts any one.” he declared, blithely. Then he added vivaciously: "Hers. I'll show you!” Clasped His Father. With the words, hs clasped his arms around his father's neck, and, before that amazed gentleman could under stand his purpose, he had kissed sound ly first the one cheek and then the other, each with a hearty, wholesome smack of filial piety. This done, he stook hack, still beaming happily, while the astounded Sarah tittered bewllderly. For his own part, Dick was quite ashamed. He loved his father. For once he had expressed that fondness in a primitive fashion, and he was glad The older man withdrew a step, and there rested motionless, under the sway of an emotion akin to dismay. He stood staring intently at his son with a perplexity in his expression that was almost ludicrous. When at last he spoke his voice was a rumble of strangely shy pleasure “God bless my soul!” he exclaimed, vlolenfly. Then ho raised a hand and rubbed first one cheek, and after it its fellow with a gentleness that w'as sig nificant The feeling provoked by the embrace showed plainly in his next words “Why, that’s the first time you have kissed me. Dick, since you were a little boy. God blese my aoul!” he repeated And now there was a note of puhilatlon. The son. somewhat disturbed by the emotion he had aroused, nevertheless answered frankly with the expression of his own feeling, as he advanced and laid a hand on hie father's shoulder. “The fact is, Dad,” he said quietly, with a smile that was good to see. “I am awfully glad to see you again.” Kisses of Tenderness. "Are you, son?” the father cried hap pily. Then, abruptly hts manner changed, for he felt himself perilously dose to the maudlin in this new yield ing to sentimentality. Such kisses of tenderness, however agreeable in them selves. ars hardly fitting to one of his dignity. “You clear out of here, hoy,” he commanded, brusquely. Tm a work ing man # But here, wait a minute.” *ie added. He brought forth from a pocket a neat sheaf of banknotes, which he held out. “There’s carfare for you,” he said with a chuckle. “And now' clear out. I’ll see you at dinner ' Dick bestowed the money in his pock et and again turned toward the door. “You can always get rid of me on the same terms,” he remarked slyly. And then the young man gave evidence that he, too, had some of his father's ability in things financial. For In the doorway he turned with a final speech. which was uttered in splendid disre gard for the packet of money he had Just received -perhaps, rather, in a splendid regard for It. "Oh. Dad. please don’t forget to give Sadie that five dol lars I borrowed from her for the taxi." And with that impertinent reminder he was gone. The owner of the store returned lo his labors with a new zest, for the meeting with his son had put him in high spirits. Perhaps it might have been better for Ma^y Turner hail she come to him just then, while he was yet in this softened mood. But fate had or dained that other events should re store him in his usual harder self be fore him interview The effect was, Indeed, presently accomplished by the advent of Smithson into the office. He entered with an expression of discom fiture on his rather vacuous counten ance. He walked almost nimbly to the desk and spoke with evident distress, as Ida employer looked up Interrogative ly. McCracken has detained er—a lady, sir,” he said, feebly. "She lias been searched, and we have found about i hundred dollars' worth of laces on her.” “Well?” Gilder demanded, impatient- y. Such affairs were too common in the store to make necessary this intru sion of the matter on him “Why did you come to me about it?” Ills staff knew Just what to do with shoplifters. At once Smithson became apologetic, while refusing to retreat. “I’m very sorry, air,” he said, halting ly, “but I thought it wiser, sir, to—er— > bring the matter to your persona! at tention.’' “Not Eactly'a Thief.” “Quite necessary, Smithson," Gilder returned, with asperity. “You know my views on the subject of property. Tell McCracken to have the thief arrested.” Smithson cleared his throat doubtfully, and in hia stress of feeling he even re laxed a trifle that majestical erectness of carriage that had made him so val uable as a floorwalker. “She’s not exactly a er a thief," he ventured. ^ “You are trifling, Smithson,” the owner of the store exclaimed, in high exasperation. “Not a thief! And you caught her with a hundred dollars' worth of laces that she hadn't bought. Not a theif! What in heaven's name do you call her. then?” “A kleptomaniac,” Smithson explain ed, retainii his manner of mild insis tence. “You see, .sir, it’s this way. The lady happens to be the wife of J. W. Haskell, the banker, you know." Yes, Gilder did know. The mention of the name w r as like a spell in the effect it wrought on the attitude of the irri tated owner of the store. Instantly his expression changed. While before his features had been set grimly, while his eyes had flashed wrathfu’ly, there was now only annoyance over an event markedly unfortunate. "How extremely awkward I” he cried: and there was a very real concern in his voice. He ragarded Smithson kind ly, whereat that rather puling gentleman once again assumed his martial bear ing “You w'ore quite right in coming to me." For a moment he was silent, plunged in thought. Finally he spoke with the decisiveness characteristic of him. “Of course, there’s nothing we can do. Just put the stuff back on the counter, and let her go." But Smithson had not yet wholly un burdened himself. Instead of immediate ly leaving the room in pursuance of the succinct instructions given him, he again cleared his throat nervously, and made known a further aggravating fac- or in the situation. “She’s very angry, Mr. Gilder,” he announced timidly. “She—er- she de mands an—er—an apology." The owner of the store half rose from his chair, then throw himself back with an exclamation of disgust. He again ejaculated the words with which he had greeted his son’s unexpected kisses, now there was a vast difference in the Intonation. “God bless my souH" he cried. From his expression, it was clear that a pious aspiration was farthest from his thought On the contrary! Again he fell silent, considering the situation which Smithson had presented, and, as he reflected, his frown betrayed the emotion natural enough under the cir cumstances. At last, however, he mas tered his Irritation to some degree, and spoke his command briefly “Well. Smithson, apologize to her. It can't he helped Then his face lighted with a sardonic amusement. “And, Smithson.“ he went on with a sort of elephantine >layfulm*.8S, “1 shall take it as a per sonal favor if you will tactfully advise the lady that the goods at Altman and Stern’s are really even finer than ours “ When Srnlthson had left tlie office, Gilder turned to his secretary. "Take this.” he directed, and he forth with dictated the following letter to the husband of the lady who was r.ot a thief, as Smithson had so painstakingly pointed out: © © By MARVIN DANA from the • • • © Play of BAYARD VEILLER. • • "Cut that!” said Garson. The eyes of the two men locked. Cassidy struggled with all his pride against the dominant fury this man hurled on him. ”J. W. Gaskell, Esq , “Central National Bank, New York. “My Dear Mr. Gaskell: I feel that I should be doing less than my duty as a man if I did not let you know ai once that Mrs. Gaskell Is in urgent need of medical attention. She came into our store to-day. and ” Found Her Wandering. He paused for a moment. “No, put it this way,” he said finally: "We found her wandering about our store to-day in a very nervous condi tion. In her excitement, she carried away about $100 worth of rare laces. Not recognizing her, our store detect ive detained her for a short time. For tunately for us all, Mrs. Gaskell was able to explain who she was. and she has just gone to her home. Hoping for Mrs. Gaskell's speedy recovery, and with all good wishes, I am, “Yours very truly.” Yet, though he had completed the letter. Gilder did not at once take up another detail of his business. Instead, he remained plunged In Thought, and now his frown was one of simple be wilderment. A number of minutes passed before he spoke, and then his words revealed distinctly what had been his train of meditation. “Sadie," he said in a voice of entire sincerity, “I can’t understand theft. It’s a thing absolutely beyond my compre hension.” On the heels of this ingenuous dec laration, Smithson entered th9 office, and that excellent gentleman appeared even more perturbed than before.” “What on earth is the matter now?” Gilder spluttered, suspiciously. “It's Mrs. Gaskell still,” Smithson re plied in great trepidation. “She wants you personally, Mr. Gilder, to apologize to her. She says that the action taken against her is an outrage, and she is not satisfied with the apologies of all the rest of us. She says you must make one, too, and that the store de tectives must he discharged for intol erable insolence." The Business Instinct. Gilder bounced up from his chair an grily. * “I’ll he damned If I’ll discharge Mo- Cracken,” he vociferated, glaring on Smithson, who shrank visibly. But that mild and meek man had a certain strength of pertinacity. Be sides, in this case, he had been having multitudinous troubles of his own, which could he ended only by his em ployer’s placating of the offended klep tomaniac. "But about the apology, Mr. Gilder," I he reminded, speaking very deferential- i ly, yet with insistence, i Business instinct triumphed over the magnate's irritation, and his face cleared. "Oh, I’ll apologize,” he said with a wry smile of discomfiture. “I’ll make things even up a bit when I get an apology from Gaskell. I shrewdly sus pect that that estimable gentleman Is going to eat humble pie, of my baking, from hia wife’s receipe. And his will be an honest apology, which mine won’t, not by a damned sight!" With the words, he left the room, in his wake a hugely relieved Smithson. Alone in the office, Sarah neglected her work for a few minutes to brood over the startling contrast of events that had just forced itself on her atten tion. She was not a girl given to the analysis of either persons or things, but in this instance the movement of affairs had come close to her, and she was compelled to some depth of feeling by the two aspects of life on which to-day she looked. In the one case, as she knew’ it, a girt under the urge of pov erty had stolen. That thief had been promptly arrested, finally she had been tried, had been convicted, had been sen tenced to three years in prison. In the other case, a woman of wealth had stolen. There had been no punishment. A euphemism of kleptomania had been written to her husband, a banker of power in the city. To her the proprie tor of the store was even now apologiz ing in courteous phrases of regret. . . . And Mary Turner had been sen tenced to three years in prison. Sadie shook her head in dolorous doubt, as she again bent over the keys of her typewriter. Certainly, some happenings In this world of ours did not seem quite fair. CHAPTER V. The Victim of the Law. It was on this same day that Sarah, on one of her numerous trips through the store in behalf of Gilder, was accost ed by a salesgirl, whose name. Helen Morris, she chanced to know. It was in a spot somewhere out of the crowd, so that for the moment the two were prae- ically alone. The salesgirl showed signs of embarrassment as she ventured to lay a detaining hand on Sarah's arm, but she maintained her position, despite the secretary's manner of disapproval. “What on earth do you want?” Sarah inquired, snappishly. The salesgirl put her question at once. “What did they do to Mary Turner?” “Oh, that!" the secretary exclaimed, with increased impatience over the de lay, for she was very busy, as always. “You will all know soon enough.” “Tell me now.” The voice of the girl was singularly compelling; there was something vividly impressive about her just now, though her pallid, prema turely mature face and the thin figure n the regulation black dress and white apron showed ordinarily only insig nificant. “Tell me notg,” she repeated, with a monotonous emphasis that some how’ moved Sarah to obedience against her w’ill, greatly to her own surprise. “They sent her to prison for three years,” she answered, sharply. “Three years?” The salesgirl had re peated the words in a tone that was in definable, yet a tone vehement in its in credulous questioning. “Three years?” she said again, as one refusing to be lieve. "Yes,” Sarah said, impressed by the girls' earnestness; "three years .” Sarah is Astonished. “Good God!” There was on Irrever ence in the exclamation that broke from the girl’s lips. Instead, only a tense horror that touched to the roots of emo tion. Sarah regarded thl9 display of feel ing on the part of the young woman be fore her with an increasing astonish ment. It was not In her own nature to be demonstrative, and such strong ex pressions of emotion as thiB she deemed rather suspicious. She recalled, in ad dition, the fact that this was not the first time that Helen Morris had shown a particular interest in the fate of Mary Turner. Sarah wondered why. “Say,” she demanded, with the direct ness habitual to her, “w f hy are you so anxious about it? This is the third time you have asked me about Mary Turner. What’s it to you, I’d like to know?” The salesgirl started violently, and a deep flush drove the accustomed pallor fro mher cheeks. She was obviously much disturbed by the question. "What is it to me?” she repeated in an effort to gain time. “Why, nothing— nothing at all!” Her expression of dis tress lightened a little as she hit on an excuse that might serve to Justify her interest. “Nothing at all, only—she’s a friend of mine, a great friend of mine. Oh, yes!” Then, In an instant the look of relief vanished, as once again the ter rible reality hammered on her conscious ness. and an overwhelming dejection showed in the dull eyes and in the drooping curves of the white lips. There was a monotone of desolation as she went on speaking in a whisper meant for the ears of no other. “It’s awful— three years! Oh. I didn’t understand! It’s awful!—awful!!” With the final word she hurried off, her head bowed. She was still murmuring brokenly, in coherently. Her whole attitude was of wondering grief. Sarah started after the girl in com plete mystification. She oould not at first guess any possible cause for an emotion as poignant. Presently, how ever, her shrewd, though very prosaic, comruonsense suggested a simple ex planation of tHe girl’s extraordinary distress. Secretary Hurried Away. “I’ll bet that girl has been tempted to steal. But she didn’t, because she was afraid.’’ With this satisfactory conclusion of her wonderment, the sec retary hurried on her way, quite con tent. It never occurred to her that the girl might have been tempted to steal— and had not resisted the temptation. It was on account of this brief con versation with the salesgirl that Sarah was thinking intently of Mary Turner, after her return to the office from which Gilder himself happened to be absent for the moment. A9 the secretary need up at the opening of the door, 3he did not at first recognize the figure outlined there. She remembered Mary Turner as a tall, slender girl, who showed an underlying vitality in every movement, a girl w'ith a lace of regular features, in which was a complexion of blended milk and roses, with a radiant joy of life shining through all her ardu ous and vulvar conditions. Instead of this, now. she saw a frail form that stood swaying in the opening of the doorway, that bent in a sinister fash ion which told of bodily impotence, while the face was quite bloodless. And, too, there was over all else a pall of helplessness—helplessness that had en dured much, and must still endure in finitely more. As a reinforcement of the dread im port of that figure of woe. a man stooa beside it, and one of his hands was clasped around the girl’s wrist, a man who wore his derby hat somew’hat far back on his bullet-shaped .head, whose feet were conspicuous in shoes with very heavy soles and very square toes. It W’ns the man w’ho now took charge of the situation. Cassidy, from head quarters, spoke in a rough, indifferent voice, well suited to his appearance of stolid strength. “The District Attorney told me to bring this girl here on my way to the grand Central Station with her." Could Only Stand Dumb. Sarah got to her feet mechanically. Somehow, from the raucous notes of the policeman’s voice, she understood in a flash of illumination that the pitiful fig ure there in the doorw'ay was that oi Mary Turner, whom she had remem bered so different, so frightfully differ ent. She spoke with a miserable effort toward her usual liveliness. ‘Mr. Gilder will be right back. Come in and wait.” She wished to say some thing more, something of welcome or of mourning, to the girl there, but she found herself incapable of a single word for the moment, and could only stand dumb while the man stepped forward with his charge following helplessly in his clutch. The two went forward very slowly, the officer, carelessly conscious of his duty, walking with awkward steps to suit the feeble movements of the girl, the girl letting herself be dragged onward, aware of the* futility of any resistance to the inexorable power that now had her In its grip, of which the man was the present agent. As the pair came thus falterlngly into the center of the room, Sarah at last found her voice for an expression of sympathy. “I’m sorry, Mary.” she said, hesitat ingly. “I’m terribly sorry, terribly sorry!*’ The girl, who had halted when the of* fleer halted, as a matter of course, did not look up. She stood still, swaying a little as if from weakness. Her voice was lifeless. Was Not Successful. “Are you?’i.she said. ”1 did not know. Nobody had been near me the whole time I have been in the Tombs.” There was infinite pathos in the tones as she repeated the words so fraught with deadfulness. "Nobody has been near me!’’ The secretary felt a sudden, glow of shame. She realized the Justice of that unconscious accusation, for, till to-day, she had had no thought of the suffer ing girl there in the prison. To assuage remorse, she sought to give evidence as to a prevalent sympathy. \ “Why,” she exclaimed, “there was Helen Morris to-day! She has been ask ing about you again and again. She'll all broken up over your trouble.” But the effort on the secretary’s part was wholly without success. “Who is Helen Morris?” the lifeless ( If I Had Hair Uke liers—.” No need to finish the sentence. Probably you liave often expressed it. But don’t you know that you CAN have beautiful hair? Robinnaire Hair Dye is not a preparation to bleach or change the color of the hair. It is a restorati-ve. Restores colorless, lifeless, faded gray hair to its own original color and .beautiful, healthy condition. Makes it soft and lustrous. Non- sticky and does not stain skin or scalp. TRY IT. The hair responds ‘ quickly to proper care and treat ment. ^ .. . Prepared for light, medium and dark brown and black hair. Trial size 25c. postpaid 31c: large size 75c, postpaid 83c. Pure and harmless. FOR SALE BY All Jacobs’ Stores And Druggists Generally. Crafty Tricks of kashion Thieves DESIGN PIRATES AND THE WAY THEY WORK voice demanded. There was no interest In the question. Sarah experienced a momentary as tonishment, for she was still remember ing the feverish excitement displayed by the salesgirl, who had declared her self to be a most intimate, friend of tho convict. But the mystery was to re main unsolved, since Gilder now entered the office. He walked with the quick, bustling activity that was ordinarily expressed in his every movement. He paused for an instant, as he beheld the two visitors in the center of the room, then he spoke curtly to the secretary. while crossing to his chair at the desk. “You may go, Sarah. I will rir^ when wish you again.” There followed an interval of silence, while the secretary was leaving the of fice and the girl with her warder stood waiting on his pleasure. Gilder cleared his throat twice in an embarrassment foreign to him, before finally he spoke to the girl. At last, the proprietor of the store expressed himself in a voice of genuine sympathy, for the spectacle of woe presented there before hie very eyes moved him to a real distress, since it was indeed actual, something that ’ did not depend on an appreciation to be developed out of imagination. “My girl,” Gilder said gently—hie hard voice was softened by an honest re gret—“my girl, I am sorry about this.” Her Eyes Opened Widely. "You should be!” came the Instant answer. Yet the words were uttered with a total lack of emotion. It seemed from their intonation that the speaker voiced merely a statement concerning a recondite matter of truth, with which sentiment had nothing to do. But the effect on the employer was unfortunate. It aroused at once his antagonism against the girl. His instinct of sym pathy with Vhich he had greeted her at the outset was repelled and mad© of no avail. Worse, it was transformed into an emotion hostile to the one who thus offended him by rejection of th© ■well-meant kindliness of his address. “Come, com©!” he exclaimed, testily. “That’s no tone to take with me." “Why? What sort of tone do you expect me to take?” was the retort In the listless voice. Yet now In the dull ness ran a faint suggestion of some thing sinister. “I expected a decent amount of frtv- mility from one in your position,” was the tart rejoinder of the magnate. Life quickened swiftly In the drooping form of the girl. Her muscles tensed. She stood suddenly erect, in the vigor of her youth again. Her face lost in the same second its bleakness of pallor. The eyes opened widely, with startling ab ruptness, and looked straight Into thosd of the man who had employed her. “Would you be humble,” she de manded, and now her voice was become softly musical, yet forbidding, too, with a note of passion, “would you be hum ble if you were going to prison for three years—for something you didn’t do?” There was anguish In the cry torn from the girl's throat in the sudden access of despair. The words thrilled Glider beyond anything that he had supposed possible in such case. He found himself in this emergency totally at a loss, and moved in his chair doubt fully, wishing to say something, and quite unable. He was still seeking some question, some criticism, some rebuke, when he was unfeignedly relieved to hear the policeman’s harsh voice: "Don't mind her, Bir," oassidy said. He meant to make his manner very reassuring. "They all say that. They are Innocent, of course! Yep—they all say It. It don’t do ’em any good, but just the same they all swear they’re In nocent. They keep it up to the very last, no matter how right they've been got.” The voice of the girl rang clear. There was a note of Inconsistence that carried a curious dignity of its own. The very simplicity of her statement might have had a power to convince one who lis tened without prejudice, although the words themselves were of the trite sort that any protesting criminal might ut ter. ”1 tell you, I didn’t do it!*' Gilder himself felt the surge of emot tion that swung through these moments, but he would not yield it. With his lack of Imagination, he could not in terpret what this time must mean to the girl before hhn. Rather, he merely deemed it his duty to carry through this unfortunate affair with a scrupu lous attention to detail, in the fashion that had alw’ays been characteristic of him during the years in which he had steadily mounted from the bottom to the top. To Be Continued To-morrow. “A NY person caught sketching or securing photographs of fashion models will be taken into custody and the pictures confiscated." Such is the string ent order issued by M Lepine, the Prefect of Police in Paris, in response to the bitter com plaints of prominent French dress makers. who find theiT latest designs being surreptitiously copied. Indeed, this piracy of faahions has of late become such a scandal that dress makers in England and Paris are combining in their efforts to check the practices of those dressmakers w’ho trade in stolen brains. Spies From Foreign Countries To quote the words of one dress maker: "Some of the imitators are so clever that they are able without notes to reproduce the model to the final eieeve-button. This is so well known that some of the leading firms in London and Paris never exhibit their more exclusive models in the window or the showrooms. Never theless. by various subterfuges new designs are sometimes stolen and placed on the market before they are even shown in the windows of the firm which created them. In such case%wr can only come to the con clusion that by bribery or other means some one has managed to ob tain a drawing of the design from an employe." Talking of tricks of fashion plates, my informant went on to describe how frequently young men and wo men are sent over from France and Germany, presumably to learn their business, whereas they really act as spies and reguarly forward to their employers on the Continent any new designs they may be able to secure. One of the cutest dodges was that of a woman who one day drove up to a certain modiste famous for her original creations and ordered a dress. This was duly delivered and paid for; after which the lady called again and made another purchase, at the same tijne intimating that she wished to see some entirely new de signs for evening dresses, as she was about to go abroad. Impressed with her manner and appearance, a num ber of unique designs were sent to her hotel. After looking at these, she promised to call next day when she had finally decided on the dress she liked. She did not put in an appear ance. and this particular firm of dressmakers were chagrined to find shortly afterward that their unique designs were being copied in detail by certain Parisian dressmakers. It afterword transpired that the lady in question was a fashion thief, who had hit upon this cute dodge to ob tain designs. Busy in May and June. So jealously do dressmakers guard their new models that only those peo ple with the highest credentials are allowed in the showrooms and at the private views. "We are particularly on our guard." said my informant, "against experts from America and Germany. Many of them have a habit of coming over here, or visiting a house in Paris, about May or June, and whatever costumes for the fol lowing winter can be secured in ad vance they promptly acquire, forward them to their headquarters, have them copied more or less badly, and sell them as the latest London and Paris creations. A new design ac quired in this way was once repro duced by an American bouse, with the | result that when a lady w'ent to a well-known dressmaker in Faris and was shown the fashions for the win ter she exclaimed: ’Oh. no; these are not new. I have seen these styles in New York much cheaper.’" The same oompliints are made by ’he best milliners who have to be constantly on the qui vive against the unwelcome attentions of people who are always on the lookout for unique and novel designs. "Or course,” said one milliner to the writer, "one must show hats in order to sell them; and it is easy enough for a smartly dressed lady artiste to mix with other women around the shop win dows or in the showrooms, make a mental picture of the hat and a rough sketch in the neighboring tea shop, and come back afterward to com pare the. sketch with the original. And it is thus, to our chagrin, that a hat we are often selling for three and four guineas is copied and sold at shops in the suburbs at something like half the price.” Pirating Lace Resigns. Even more serious is the manner in w’hich lace designs are pirated, for not only do shopkeepers suffer, but the manufacturers find themselves losing thousands of dollars every year through unscrupulous tricks. The president of the Lace Finishers’ As sociation at Nottingham. England, re cently mentioned that English de signs are systematically betrayed to foreign competitors. Inquiries showed that while many draughtsmen were above suspicion and could be relied on to keep designs secret, others cared not how much damage they did to English manufacturers. Foreign manufacturers were sparing neither effort nor expense to obtain posses sion of the Nottingham patterns as soon as they were produced. One draughtsman boasted that he had sold four copies of original designs en trusted to him to four different coun tries. So great has the scandal be come that the question of an inter national agreement on the subject is being seriously considered. Remove At Once Your disfiguring Superfluous Hair Use Th« GkvuiI.mI Liquid H.ir Df.tror.r A Perfumed Depilatory It Acts Instantly wherever applied. Leaving the skin smooth and clear. Price $1.00 at Jacobs’ Ten Stores. Booklet of valuable information tree on request. PILGRIM MFC. COMPANY 37 East 28th St. Ne% York,