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t "WiT T=^ Polly and Her Pals Z Pa Grasped the General Idea t’opyrifbt. 1IH8. International New* Srr //% By Cliff Sterrett By WILLIAM F KIRK. lHAKK 1 our house 11 has lost gi-H te other tlitfi wich id ua ted from Went Point. He was a nice yung matt. He was as stratc as a arrot a A- his clothes fit hint fine. He is a friend of Ma s unkel, wich also went to West Point & was shot In Ih e bac k .veers ago in a Injun campaign. Ma never likes to talk much about her unkel. beekauH Hi4M6ED IT- I KlN See vwdr'f ‘f^OOBLE. VjZyiTM The piu6 KuSit d Ov'\ Fi7 I WELL Tor PHV Siv.ES. /fS\< 5oMf Booyl n wowt PTo A \ MEV CAp[ D'Vou it all the time wanting to know was that he got shot In the had The nairn of the yung man was Gal braith Denton Ills Haim was like the raims of the army osslfers In plays Ac stories A- he was vary handsum. The only thing J didn’t like about him waa that he was all the time bragging. He is the only West Point man I ewer saw that bragged. Moast of them knows better wen they git thru school. I havent the faintest idee ware they will send me, he toald l’a & Ma. My only wish is to be sent to some post ware thare is plenty of action Ar danger Danger is my middel nalm, he sed. The direst peril in the world is like that much custard pie to me I think 1 grow taller A.- broader on a diet of danger, he sed Doant you feel that way? he asked Pa. Pa Is Modest. I think Pa was going to say Yes, twit he saw Ma grinning at him & he sed Well, to tell you the truth, I am not so full of fire Ar recklessness as I was wen 1 was a yung man. In those days, Pa sed. I cud put my hand In a mad dog’s mouth with u smile, or fare the charge of a en-raged bull without batting a eye. but my advanced veers have sobered me down a bit & made me think of other A greater things than flteing Well, sed the yung man. Mister Den* tion, it Is this way with me, he sed to Pa I do not Imagine that I shal grow less feerless with the added veers. In fack.l beeleeve that w'hen I am a old man I will he eeven moar dauntless than 1 am now. At wen the grim reaper rums he will find me in the hour of Deth as I ever was In life, unafraid. That is a fine way to he. salt! Pa. You will find, sed Pa. wen you go to the front, many things In acktual war fare to try yure outrage sorely. In the dark days of the Civil War, Pa sed. the days that I dred to recall to any grate extent eeven now. I went thru hardships A- faced dangers that wud have killed any ordinary man or made him crazy. I wonder now At then, sed Pa. that that terribul war dklent ma1k me reely Insane. Dont you. wdfe? Oh, I suppoas so. sod Ma Sumtlmes 1 think you are a 1 It tel dippy at that. Mr Gives Him Away. Pa got kind of red in the face, hut he kept on talking My boy, he sed to Mister Den tion, wen you have gone thru a baptism of fire such us me At my braiv comrades went thru at Mis- shunary Ridge or In the battel of the Wilderness, or at Shiloh or Chancel- lorsville. Pa sed. y.pu will show them l ow reely braiv you are One night 1 was surrounded by a whole company of cavalry I‘a sed l newer lost my superb nerve. Taking advantage of a blue mist that hung oavty a gray land scape. I mingled freely with the enemy A; thus made my escape 1 suppoas yure face was blue with feer. sed Ma. Mr Dent ion beeleeved Pa ’until Ma sed: Lfsaen. 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 Into his shop. The young fellow was over-particular about a great many little things, but the father made no comment. One day an order came In from a regular customer. “I wish to goodness," exclaimed the •on, "that Jones would learn to spell.” "What’s the matter now ?” inquired the father cheerfully. "Why, he spells coffee with a k ' " "No—does he? I never noticed It.” "Of course you never did.” said the son. pettishly. "You never notice anything like that.” "Perhaps not. my son,” replied the old man; "but there is one thing 1 do notice, which you will learn by and by. and that is that Jones pays cash.” , Speedy Courtship, A man recently In New York laid a wager that he would woo. win, and marry within an hour a. young lady whom, with his companions, he had Just seen arrive at the hotel where he was i living There is nothing in the American marriage law to prevent this dispatch. : He introduced himself to the damsel, she smiled upon his suit, a minister was called in. and they were married 1 within an hour The wager. of no inconsiderable amount, was handed over to the bride groom. who left with his bride the fol- ' lowing day It was shortly afterward discovered that the couple had long been man and wife, ami that they had been traveling about playing the same trick at various hotels » \ * 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 Hilly 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 ear is an ar rogant fellow The girl makes him stop the machine. She gets out and Inquires if Kelly is injured She apologizes for her companion's brusque manner. Kelly sees Mana ger Smith ani tells him he has never played a game of hall Smith con sents to fllve Kelly a trial. The girl in the auto Is Mildred Deery, daugh ter of Galen Deery, a crafty and wealthy speculator In timber lands. Her companion if- Forrust Tain, 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 Gain hears Mil dred order an auto to take her guest to his hotel. He takes the driver’s place and carries Kelly out into the u oods Kell \ t brashes l Jain MU ager Smith tells the newspapers about his new find and the reporters print all sorts of "Joshing" stories about Kelly. Now go on with the story. By A. H. C. MITCHELL. Copyright, 1U13, 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 tight In his element. Next in importance, judging by his own per sonal estimate to himself, was Whis key. the colored tnan-of-all-work. Bd 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 sufflc ed. 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 and 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 of the profession. Smith took his place at the plate, a dozen negro boys spread them selves In he outfield* to shack the balls; Brady went to the mound and threw up a straight ball. Smith pasted it to left and ran gleefully to first "A hit!" he shouted. "I’ll 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 wildly 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- portorial corps. "Watch him miss the hall 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 right fist "Look who’s here.” he cried to Brady in the box. "Whatyer got, kid, something new,” demanded Brady, with a grin. "The only way 1 know,” replied Kelly, smiling. "If I’m wrong you fellows will have to teach me some thing dif”— A Great Hit. Ilis 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 cm only be emitted by a negro under the pressure of pleasureable excitement, Issued from the throat of Whiskey, nearl> bursting the ear drums of the three reporters seated on the bench. "Some hitter, gem’rnen, some hit ter; Wow!” shouted the colored at tendant. The instant he hit the ball. Kelly dropped ills bat and circled around the bases with the speed of a 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: "Snap that fellow' in tweny differ ent poses—standing up. lying down, 'roll over, say please, play dead artel everything on the calendar; catching . the ball, running the bases and at »bat—especially at bat. Hustle now l and we’ll spring a good one in the late editions of The Georgian this after noon.” "Do you hit all the ptichers like that kid?” laughed Brady, as Kelly raced over the plate. "I don’t know,” replied Kelly, pleas ed at the question. "You see I rrever faced a good pitcher in my life. What l 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 1 know nothing about. I’m afraid 1 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 tf you pickle a curve ball. Stick around, kid, stick around." Kelly thanked hint for his encuor- aglng 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 T Shcfect IfruMcff. Get the Original and Genu ne KOBLICKS MALTED fViSLK The Food-‘Jrink for Ait Rgrs. *•’ r Infants, invalids and (Srowin* Chil- | r er Pure Nutrition, upbuilding, the j » ‘ “ b -0 invigorates the nursing I ? ,>r.<\ 'he aged Rich milk, malted flrain. In powder form. r-.vt r.o . prepared in a mini te. •tute. As 1 : for HORUCK S 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 i for toothache, rheumatism, and colds and complexion beau titters, at 50 cents a what k " These kids, as fat back as tradition goes. Hail spoiled everything in Korn- | shucks They had interrupted sermons j and lawn fetesand comic operas, and | one** when there was a sham battle the | shooting could not l>e heard for them. But in spite of all he was told about those kills, old Watkins went on put- dug up lib; 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 tilled the entire land scape back to the horizon Rut he went ahead. About fifteen minutes before the time i hj» show w. % 1 pposed to stact some thing occurred < n another vacant lot a little distance off \ man built a bon fire. Then he produced an explosion. /Vo£ in Any Milk Trust p exp. affu. i nen came more cx piuoiuns. Along about the third of the series the vacant lot where this was going on began accumulating kids They came at the rate of 1,000 per hang 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 « 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 the\ ? There was in* one stamping on their toes and pulling their arms off. There was no fighting and scuffing and crowding nothing disagreeable at all. Onl> the refreshing jokes of the medicine man. 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 j chance to buy medicines that would heal all known diseases The show was over ajul all the money j to be had «;n acquired by old Wat- j bins, the free show medicine man be* J tore the explosions and the bonfire died uoau and released the kids. won’t stand. You see 1 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. I T 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 "Pagliacci:" U E voi, pruttoBto che fe onitre povere gab bane d' istrioni, te nant r* anime eonsideratc, prAchc noi Siam uomini di came e (P ossa, e ehe di guest' orfano mondo all pari di voi spiriamo V acre!" He would doubtless appear equally foolish if he sang the same words in English: "Ah. think then, street people. When pc look upon us, clad in our mot Up ami tinsel Ours arc human hearts, beating with passion. Ur arc but men like you, for gladness or sorrow. ’Tin the same broad Heaven above as. 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. Y’et 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 m*‘t 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. Bo 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 Tod Lewis, a professor at Amherst College. So were hundreds of men who are 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 the outside world Wots not of. AH 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 ('aught 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 h£ 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 j jelub, hatj taken a chance and signed . Long Tom to a contract. He wanted I him principally to coach the younf pitchers on his start* 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 I turned thirty-five, but in baseball ' youth must be served. Made Him Jealous. Long Tom 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 tip his mitt. mask, chest pro tector and shin guards. walker through the runway that led to tin field. He came 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 1 in its flight far into right field. Then | he turned fills eyes on the young man , j and followed the tall, powerful, lithe- | limbed, figure as it sped around the | bases. Something in the sight of ! the youth filled the veteran w ith rage j 1 and Jealousy. ; ' That's the kind that is putting us : veterans out of the business." he 1 muttered. He sauntered up to the group that j stood around the home plate and was j j cordially greeted by those who knew i him of old. He was then made ac quainted with the young players, who, of course,while they know 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 Long 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 r 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 oatne over his face .-it the sarcastic tone cf Long Tom. But he merely answered “Maybe so" and walked away. There were some unpleasant things connected with baseball, he 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 worfl 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 n<*t 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. c< ntrary 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 He served Bailey, Nixon and Long in turn and then shouted, "Here y arc. kid." At the same time lie 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 stopped and turned again, facing the grandstand and an instant later the ball settled in his uplifted hand*. He had timed the hit to a hair. When Long Tom had signified his intention of sending up a fly ball in Kelly’s direction. Hill 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 ami 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 ht 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 somew hat fu- ! nereal smile shone like a candTe through a hollow squash. "Is that your correspondence school ball player, Billy?” asked Long Torn Morrissey. • "That's him. What do you think j of him?” replied Smith. To Be Continued To-morrow, FREE, NEXT SUNDAY. The American Sunday Monthly Magazine, contain 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” A T OU read the first eight installments of the great baseball mystery Y story of "The Triple Tie” and now you have a fair idea of the simplicity of the offer The Georgian makes—how you may win $100 by working out the solution of the mystery as nearly as its au thor. A. H. O. Mitchell, has done as you can. Mr. Mitchell has written the last chapter, but his copy is sealed up in a vault at the American National Bank. When all but this 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 should be. To the person who most 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 foiiow 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 as I shall be able to do to get to my own." CHICHESTER S PILLS tiie diamond brand a 4*K y .fiV r ,>ru Ff«»l for “•■“■di • 'll* «n ft*-d and 4.old inrtagic 1 F'ves. sealed with Blue Ribbon. 1 nLe n«* other. IPjt of* roar V year; known as Best.Safest. 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