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I HE 5tz. ~TheV Seem^ I'PE boMt- 'TH/W' "ike. Matter.. wiTh i^t ! hev cap[ d'Vou KHoW AUV ~Tmw6- /BouT yEoTToMODEL,r.S • Sure!! '~fh\AWHY [ <£oT ME /4 HORSE M)' Fu66V W/h>ct pip HE CaH, " P/4 ? PMrtiNUM PoiWT^ PF Your ViBRATor. ARE SET Too'T(6MT AW THE/V/E ✓- BuRWT OUT 1 VouR MA6WETo IS VouR M/USMETo IS vyvEAK AMD Your Brushes< ARE ouT or TIME. , > CITHER?VX//5E. IT SeeMY Little Bobbie’s . Pa Polly and Her Pals <jl #j£ <£$ Pa Grasped the General Idea <V>pyr1rf)t, 1918, International Sum Serrier Bv Cliff Sterrett By WILLIAM F. KIRK wich lothea of Ma s HAfJ&ED IE 1 klM 5ee Y/oT'S - Tha Double. with The dim6 BuSit d Out Fi7 I well Tor Pity $AkES, 45k Some body ! IT W/OWY (5b ThATS A SihCh ! that b ragged. Moa st of them know# better wen they git thru f «chool. I hai rent the faint est idc e ware they will »e nd me. he toi ild Pa & Ma Mv only w ish is to be t ti o some post ware tl iare is plenty of f ICtif in & danger. Danger is my mid' lei nulm, he sed. The di rest peril in th< ’orld is like 1 gr dam wav- much custard pie to me. 1 think >w taller & broader on a diet of »r, he aed. Doant you feel that he asked Pa. Pa Is Modest. 1 think Pa was going to say Yea. but he saw Ma grinning ut him & be sed Well, to tell vou the truth, I am not »o full of tire & recklessness as I was wen 1 was a yung man. In those days, Pa sed. I cud put my hand In a ntad dog's mouth with a Hmlle, or face the charge of a en-raged bull without hatting a eye. but my advanced veers have sobered me down a bit & made me think of other & greater things than flteing. Well, sed the yung man. Mister Men tion, it Is this way with me. he sed to Pa I do not Imagine that I shal grow less fearless with the added yeers. In fack.T beeleeve that when I am a old man I will he eevon tnoar dauntless than 1 am now, won the grim reaper cums he will find mo in the hour of r»eth as I ever was in life, unafraid. That is a fine way to be, said Pa. You will find, sod Pa, wen you go to the front, mans things in acktual war fare to try yure currage sorely. In the dark days of the Civil War, Pa sed, the days that I dred to recal! to any grate extent eeven now. I went thru hardships & faced dangers that wud have killed any ordinary man or made him crazy. 1 wonder now & then, sed Pa that that terrlbul war dident maik me reely insane. Dont you, wife? oh, 1 suppose so. sed Ma Kumtimes I think you are a 1 it tel dippy at that. Ma Gives Him Away. Pa got kind of red in the face, but he kept on talking My boy, he sed to Mister Dention, wen you have gone thru a baptism of fire such as me & my braiv comrades went thru at Mis- | shunary Ridge or in the battel of the Wilderness, or at Shiloh or Chancel- lorsville. Pa sed, xp,u will show them how rctiy braiv vou arc. One night I was surrounded by a whole company of cavalry Pa sed I newer lost iny superb nerve. 'Faking advantage of a ' ' that hung navy a gray land- THE TRIPLE TIE A Story for Baseball Fans That Will Interest Every Lover of the National Game SYNOPSIS. Gordon Kelly, a young North Geor gia mountaineer, comes to Atlanta to get a place with Billy Smith’s (Trackers. It is raining when he reaches Ponce DeLeon and he is nearly run over by an auto, in which are two persons -a man and a young girl The driver of the car is an ar rogant fellow-. The girl makes him stop the machine. She gets out and inquires If Kelly is injured. Site apologizes for her companion’s brusque manner. Kelly sees Mana ger Smith an t tells him he has never played a gaqie of ball. Smith con sents to fliVe Kelly a trial. The girl in the auto is Mildred Peery, daugh ter of Galen Decry, a crafty and wealthy speculator in timber lands. Her companion is Forrest Cain, a rich young man about town. Kelly owns timber land that Deery would like to possess. Kelly is invited to the Deery home, where he is intro duced to Mildred Cain hears Mil dred order an auto to take tier guest to his hotel. He takes the driver’s place and carries Kelly out Into the woods. Kelly thrashes Cain. Man ager Smith tells the newspapers about his new And and the reporters print all sorts of ‘Joshing’’ stories about Kelly. Now go on with the story. bl ‘i"- '"tii mm* * 'a viy a gray mno- cape. I mingled freely with The enemy ci thus made my escape. 1 suppons jure fate was blue with feer. sed Ma. Mr. Dention heclceved Pa until Ma se<! Lisscn. Galbraith; this deer hus band of mine was never In war ex cept with me. Jack London's new story, “The Scarlet Plague,” begins in the American Monthly Magazine given free with every copy of next Sunday’s American. Far More Important. The old man had given his son a very fair education, and had taken . him info his shop. The young fellow j whs over-particular about a great many little things, but the father j made no comment. One day an order came in from a regular customer. i wish to goodness,’’ exclaimed the fen. "that Jones would learn to spell.” "What’s the matter now?" inquired the father cheerfully. “Why, he spclL .-offee with a ’k.’ " "No—does he? 1 never noticed it." "Of course you never did," said the son. pettishly. "You never notice ! anything like that." "Perhaps not, nn fon,” replied the ; old man; "but there is one thing I do [ notice, which vou will learn by and by, and that i- that Jones pays cash.” Speedy Courtship. A man recently in New York laid a wager tl.at he would woo. win, and marry within an hour a young lady what#, witli his companions, he had Just seen arrive at the hotel where he was living There is nothing in the American marriage law to prevent this dispatch, j He introduced himself to the damsfl, she smiled upon bit suit, a minister was called in, and they were married 1 within a i hour i he wager, of r.n inconsiderable | amount, was l anded over to the bride groom. who left with bis bride the fol- j lowing day. It was shortly afterward discovered that the couple had long: been man and wife. end that they had been traveling about playing the same* By A H. C. MITCHELL. Copyright. 191 a. by International News Service. TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. At the same time the newspaper photographers unlimbered their bat teries and began bombarding every thing In sight. The reporters took possession of the players’ bench and passed intimate remarks with their friends in uniform. The train ing season of the Atlanta club was on and Manager Smith, In full charge was right In his element. Next in importance, judging by his own per sonal estimate to himself, was Whis key, the colored man-of-all-work. Kd Gillespie, the groundkoeper, had the field In fine shape, despite the severe rains of the preceding week, which had nearly driven him to drink. Then minutes of tossing the ball sufficed. Batting Practice. "Hatting practice!" suddenly yelled Bill Smith. “Dunn, put on your shin guards. Brady, go into the box and toss up a few. I'll Just take first crack at that ball myself. Gee. boys, it feels good to get a bat in my hands again.” To the player all the joys of base ball are confined to batting ami pay days, and It is believed that many a ball player would waive his salary If he could make a base hit whenever he wanted to. Every player would bat for 1,000 If he could have his way and pitchers would be driven out df the profession. Smith took his place at tin platfe, a dozen negro hoys spread them selves in he outfield to aback the bulls; Rrady went to the mound and threw up a straight ball. Smith pasted it to left rind ran gleefully to first. "A hit!" he shouted. ’Til lead the Pinch Hit League this year." One by one the players took their turn at bat. Most of them hadn't had a club In their hands for six months. Many of them swung w-ildiy at the ball. Their eyes had not yet become accustomed to the novelty of the situ ation. Gordon Kelly, being the "kid" of the party, was the last man to face *he pitcher. He assumed the same pose that filled Bill Smith with aston ishment the day they first met. Whiskey crept up to the players’ bench and stood grinning behind the reporters. "Here’s Billy’s phenom,” remarked Percy Whiting, the dean of the re port or la 1 corps. “Watch him miss the ball a mile." "He looks like business, anyhow,” observed Murphy, a confrere. Behind the plate Dunn spat in the big mitt and pounded it down with his light fist. “Look who's here,” he cried to Brndv in the box. “Whatyer got. kid. something new," demanded Brady, with a grin. "The only way I know," replied Kelly, smiling. "If I’m wrong you fellows will have to teach me some thing dif"— A Great Hit. His remarks were cut short. The ball was sailing up to the plate. Kelly stepped forward and with a tremen dous swing met the sphere fairly and squarely with his bat. There was a crashing sound and the ball, describ ing a huge arc in the air, cleared the bull by thirty feet and fell to earth far beyond that rampant figure. An ear-splitting yell, such as can only be emitted by a negro under the* pressure of pleasureable excitement, issued from the throat of Whiskey, nearly bursting the ear drums of the three reporters seated on the bench. “Some hitter, gem’men, some hit ter; Wow!” shouted the colored at tendant. The instant he hit the ball, Kelly dropped his bat and circled around the bases with the speed of ;i Mott Haven sprinter. Percy Whiting jumped to his feet. "Hey, Hypo!” he shouted to his camera man, “come here.” And when that individual rushed up he whis pered hoarsely: "8nap that fellow in tvvony differ- r enl poses—standing up. lying down, roll over, say please, play dead and /everything* on 'the calendar; catching ; the ball, running the bases and at i bat—especially at bat. Hustle now /and we’ll spring a good one in the late editions of The Georgian this after noon.” “t>o you hit all the ptichers like that kid?" laughed Brady, as Kelly raced over the plate. "I don’t know," replied Kelly, pleas ed ;i t the question. “You see i nevei faced a good pitcher in my life. What I mean by that Mr. Brady,” he added hastily, running out to the box in fear his answer had been miscon strued. "is that I never played a game of ball in my life and what I will be able to do with your pitching when you get in condition and cut loose is something I know nothing abo„ut. I’m afraid I will fall down hard. You see all you did was to toss up a slow straight one that time." "That’s al right, kid,” said Brady. “No one ever made such a long hit off me before, and if you can meet the fast one and the curves the way you did that one they will go just as far—further if you pickle a curve ball. Stick around, kid, stick around.” Kelly thanked him for his eneuor- aging words and walked away. "How fast can you run, Gordon?” asked Bill Smith. "I have done, a hundred in nine an 1 four-fifths.’’ replied the recruit, with a laugh, "but I’m afraid the record TOO MANY KIDS Shctect Get the Origma, and Genu ne HORLICK'S J-* ’.TED MILK jTh? Foed-driak for A!! Ages. r ' l • - ft* A Growing 01)il- j *en. Pure Nutrition, upbuilding the j w*-*> tv if Invigorates the nursing! Rich^mllk. malted ! arc in. in powder form ; c. • J* prepnred In a minute. Take no substitute. As : for HORLICK'S /'•of in Any Milk Trust HEY told old Watkins the show man. that there was no use giv ing his show in Kornshucks. There were too many kids there. Old Watkins was in the free show bus iness. and others in the same business had said to him: "The kids crowd in ahead of the old folks and monopolize the show They absorb all the humor ous offerings, and actually interrupt the doctor just at the important point when he unloads his wares, including cures for toothache, rheumatism, and colds and complexion beautiflers, at 60 cents a whack." These kids, as far back as tradition goes, had spoiled everything in' Korn shucks. They had interrupted sermons and lawn fetesand comic operas; and once when there whs a sham battle the shooting could not be heard for them. But in spite of all he was told about those kids, old Watkins went on put ting up his tent for his medicine show. He merely listened politely to the people, who wagged their heads and warned him of failure. By the time his tent was up the kids filled the entire land scape back to the horizon. But he went ahead. About fifteen minutes before the time fi*£ show wa% supposed to stact some thing occurred on another vacant lot a little distance off A man built a bon fire. Then he produced an explosion it was no little explosion, but a regular Fourth o' July affair. Then came more explosions. Along about the third of the series the vacant lot where this whs going on began accumulating kids. They came at the rate of 1.000 per bang from that time on. By the sixth bang all the kids in town were there, and only the old folks were left for the free show. Old Watkins said "You need not fol low the kids to see what is going on there, my friends. There is nothing there but a bonfire and an ear-splitting racket. But it will keep the kids occu pied and happy, and we can now pro ceed to have a show in peace." "Hooray!" applauded the grown peo ple. "Go ahead! Isn’t it delightful?" The performance proceeded The mothers laughed and the fathers laughed. Why shouldn't they? There was no one stamping on their toes and pulling their arms off. There was no j fighting and scuffing and crowding- nothing disagreeable at all. Only the ' refreshing Jokes of the medicine man. j made up as a negro or a Dutchman or some other inhabitant of the realm of mirth! It was great! They laughed and en joyed themselves and listened with breathless alarm to the dreadful things that might happen to them if they did not avail themselves of the providential chance to buy medicines that would heal ail known diseases. The show was over and all the money to Ik* had was acquired b> old Wat kins. the free show medicine man. be fore the explosions and the bonfire died down and released the kids. won’t stand. You see I timed my self." "You timed yourself?” queried the manager, in surprise. “Yes, sir.” Bill Smith looked at his "phenom’ long and earnestly. He said at last. "Can that stuff, boy; can that stuff. If you don’t, you’ll drive me bug- house.’’ CHAPTER XI. 1 1’ is to be presumed a ball player would look foolish if, just as a game was about to start, he step ped to the home plate, faced the as sembled throng, removed his cap and sang the following from the prologue to “Pagliaccl:” "E voi, pruttoato rhr le onatre povere fjnhhnnr d’ iatrioni, le noatr* anime considerate, poirhc noi siam unmini di came e d y ossa, c rhr di quest' orfano mondo all pari di rot apiriamo V acre!" He would doubtless appear equally foolish if he sang the same words in English: "Ah, think then, aweet people, When ye look upon us, clad in our motley mid tinsel Ours are human hearts, healing with passion. We are hut men like you, for gladness or sorrow. ’Tin the same broad Heaven above us. 'The same wide lonely world before us /” There might be some scattering ap plause. but a vast majority of the unfeeling crowd would yell: “Cut it out!” Fine Men Among Players. Yet ball players are men. They are human beings, a fact often lost sight of by those who pay to see them per form. Frequently they are jeered and hooted and insulted by men of a low order of intelligence in the crowds; men who would not dare to say the same things to the players, If they mel them face to face on the street. There are those who say the life of a ball player is degrading; that baseball is a trivial profession. Yet the Governor of Pennsylvania was a professional ball player. So was “Billy" Sunday, the revivalist. So was A. G. Spalding, millionaire and near-Senator from California. So was Edward Hanlon, one of Baltimore’s most successful real estate operators. So was Ted Lewis, a professor at Amherst College. So were hundreds of men who arc now successful in other walks of life. Things happen in baseball which never reach the ears of the public. There are tragedies and sorrows, joys and happiness in the national game that th<* outside world wots not of. All of which In this roundabout way leads up to the introduction to the reader of Thomas P. Morrissey, fa miliarly known by the sobriquet of “Long Tom.” For fifteen years Long Tom caught behind the bat in the big leagues. In his prime he was reck oned among the best men that ever wore a mask. One year he caught 148 games, handling the delivery of all kinds of pitchers--those that were as wild as hawks and those that had fine control; the ones that had "everything" and the ones that had nothing but a prayer; the curve balls and the treacherous “spitballs." But Long Tom had seen his best days and he was now down in the minor All of which. In the roundabout way, leads up to the introduction to the leagues, with only a brief baseball life before him. His fingers were gnarled and distorted. His right arm was no longer the terror of base- stealers. His legs had gone back on him. Bill Smith, manager of the Atlanta club, had taken a chance and signed Long Tom to a contract. Fie wanted him principally to coach the younf pitchers on his staff and he had an idea that the hot Southern climate might boil the old fellow out and put him into something like his real form. Long Tom was not old except In a baseball sense He had just turned thirty-five, but in baseball youth must be served. Made Him Jealous. Long Toni reported for practice the first day. He arrived in the club house just as the others began their practice on the field. He slowly un dressed and put on a uniform, and. picking up his mitt. mask, chest pro tector and shin guards, walked through the runway that led to the field. He tame on the scene at the very moment Gordon Kelly was standing at the plate waiting for Brady to pitch to him. and when Kelly made that tremendous drive he stood stock still and watched the ball in its flight far into right field. Then he turned his eyes on the young man and followed the tall, powerful, lithe- limbed figure as it sped around the bases. Something in the sight of the youth filled the veteran with rage and jealousy. That's the kind that is putting us veterans out of the business," he muttered. He sauntered up to the group that stood around the home plate and was cordially greeted by those who knew him of old. He was then made ac quainted with the young players, who, of course.while they knew him by reputation, had never met him on the ball field. Included in the lat ter was Gordon Kelly, who shook Long Tom’s warped hand and gave the customary greeting. Morrissey eyed the other critically and re marked : "You’re the fence buster of the Southern League, I take it.” "Nothing like that," laughed Kelly, “but I’d like to be.” "I guess you would, all right," re turned I/ong Tom. A Star Catch. It wasn’t what he said, but the half-sneering way he said it that Caused Kelly to look up quickly. "You must be that Correspondence school guy I read about in the paper. 1 see another paper calls you a ‘cotil lion leader.’ Well, that’s where you belong. I'm a-thinking." Kelly flushed and a look of surprise came over his face at the sarcastic tone of Long Tom. But hje merely answered "Maybe so” and walked away. There were some unpleasant things connected with baseball, lie thought. He could not understand why Morrissey should go out of his way to belittle him. Long Tom’s re marks were entirely uncalled for. There was no occasion for them. He finally came to the conclusion that Morrissey was of a crabbed and morose di ^position. Yet he recalled having read columns and columns in the newspapers about this veteran catcher and there had been no word that would lead one to think he was other than normal in his disposition. As a matter of fact, Tom Morris sey’s disposition was naturally peace ful. He. like most ball players, had had his clubhouse scraps, but they had not been of his own seeking. They had seemed to come naturally. He had the reputation of being as game a man as ever went behind the bat. and by hard work and strict at tention to business he had earned the respect of his fellow players. But his relegation to the minor leagues had seemed to work a change in him. The truth had come home to him that his baseball days were number ed. The realization of this fact came to him on this fine day in March when he saw in Gordon Kelly the perfect picture of youth. It had sud denly made him angry with himself, and. contrary to his nature, he had proceeded to vent his spleen on Kelly. When Gordon Kelly walked away from him. Long Tom continued to keep his eyes on the young man, and he watched his every movement. At last he was interrupted by Bill Smith. who yelled: "A little infield practice now, boys. I’ll bat the grounders. The rest of you go in the outfield. Tom. get a bat and knock up some fungoes." Bailey, Nixon and Long journeyed to the outfield and Kelly went with them. Morrissey selected a lightweight fungo bat and began sending up easy flies. Ho served Bailey, Nixon and Long in turn and then shouted, "Here, y’aro. kid." At the same time he put all the force he could command be hind his bat and drove the ball high in the air and labeled to land far over the head of Gordon Kelly. With the crack of the bat, however, Kelly had turned suddenly and raced with all his marvelous speed toward the center field. After covering more than a hundred feet he flopped and turned again, facing the grandstand and an instant later the ball settled in his uplifted hands. He had timed th n hit to a hair. When Long Tom had signified his intention of sending up a fly ball in Kelly’s direction, Bill Smith suspend ed his work to watch the result "If he gets under that one. he’s a wonder,” murmured the manager. Since the newspapers had spoken so facetiously about his "world-beater" he had become harassed by the thought that he had made a mistake in saying anything about the young ster until he had demonstrated his ability In a more substantial man ner. There was' little or nothing at stake financially and that end of it did not trouble Smith at all. But no manager of a ball club cares to have anything “put over" on him, so that he becomes the butt of the baseball public. When, therefore, Kelly made a really wonderful catch, the worried look faded from Bill Smith’s face, he sighed deeply and his somewhat fu- I nereal smile shone like a candle through a hollow squash. "Is that your correspondence school i ball player, Billy?" asked Long Tom Morrissey. "That’s him. What do you think of him?" replied Smith. To Be Continued To-morrow. FREE, NEXT SUNDAY. The American Sunday Monthly Magazine, contain- i ing the first chapters of Jack London’s new story, is GIVEN FREE with every copy of the next Sunday American. $250 in Prizes for Best Solution of “The Triple Tie” Y OU read the first eight installments of the great baseball mystery story of "The Triple Tie” and now you have a fair idea of tha simplicity of the offer The Georgian makes—how you may win $100 by working out the solution of the mystery as nearly as it® au thor, A. H. C. Mitchell, has done as you can. Mr. Mitchell has written the last chapter, but his copy i® sealed up in a vault at the American National Bank. When all but thi® final chapter has been printed, The Georgian readers will be asked to submit to three competent judges, none of them connected with this newspaper, their version of what the grand denouement snould be. To the person who molt closely approximates Mr. Mitch ell’s final chapter $100 will be awarded. Other prizes, making the total prize list $250, also will be distributed. Here is the list of the awards: No. 1 $100 No. 2.... } $50 No. 3 $25 No. 4 $15 Nos. 5 to 16, each 5 Read this ninth installment of the great mystery story and you will not need to be urged to read the succeeding chapters. The story will grip you. As you read, try to follow the author’s channel of thought and when the time comes for you to sit down and write that final chapter, be ready to win one of the big cash prizes in The Georgian’s great offer. Asking Too Much. “I suppose you're going to Dr. Ma son’s funeral, grandpa?" “Oh," snarled the infirm old man, "don’t talk to me about other people's funerals. It’s as much a« I shall be able to do to get to my own.” CHICHESTER S PILLS . the DIAMOND BRAND a I—.-. A- fo r A ■ r ▼ * «* liA •> l Ladles! 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The main rea*oo why icecream is made in but comparatively few homes, is the work and bother connected with the old- fashioned crank freezer. That is one reason why the arrival of The ‘Ite-Kisi’ Crankless Freezer will be hailed with delight by every one who is fond of ict creams, etc., because it elimi nates the tedious turning of the crank entirely, and produces creams, sherbets and ices that will make your mouth water. That is one reason, but there are many others. DON’T YOU KNOW that the enjoyment of a dish largely depends upon the manner in which it is served? Could you imagine a daintier and more appetizing manner of serving ice cream* than provided for bv the “Ice-Kist?” Write us to-day for our beautifully illustrated booklet, telling all about the freezer: it is ABSOLUTELY FREE—and receive oar free trial offer. WESTERN MERCHANDISE & SUPPLY CO. 326 W. MADISON ST., CHICAGO. ILL. COUPON Western Merchandise and Supply Co., 326 W. Madison St., Chi cago, III. 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