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A LATE SPRING SUGGESTION
THE TRIPLE TIE
A Story for Baseball Fans That Will Interest
Every Lover of the National Game.
$250 in Prizes for Best Solution
of “The Triple Tie”
Can Indian Yogis Really Make the Dead
Live Again?
Y OU read the tirst ten installments of the great baseball mystery
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. C. Mitchell, has done as you can.
Mr. Mitchell has written the iast 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 snould be.
To the person who most closely approximates Mr. Mitch
ell’s final chapter $100 will be awarded. Other prizes, making
the total prize lict $250, also will be distributed.
Here is the list of the awards:
The crown Is large
and high, with Its
v
greatest width from side
to side, and is girdled by
a high band of black and
white tagal applied on
the bias.
Small black tagal hat.
The rather small brim Is
turned up all around.
Trimming is a white rose
and foliage placed on either aide.
* No. 1 $100
No. 2 $50
No. 3 $25
No. 4 $15
Nos. 5 to 16, each 5
Read this eleventh 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.
Indian conjurers performing the much
discussed basket trick.
in an Indian village.
SYNOPSIS.
Gordon Kelly, a mountain boy of
Georgia, goes to Atlanta and asks
Manager Bill Smith for a place on
the Atlanta team, saying that
though he never saw a ball game
he hopes to play as well as Gobb
or Speaker. He gets permission to
practice with the team. On his way
to the clubhouse he is almost run
down by Forrest Cain, with Mildred
Deary in an auto. The girl apol
ogizes, but Cain is Very gruff.
At his first batting practice Kelly
astonishes Smith by hard, clean
hitting and is signed up.
Through his guardian Kelly meets
Mildred Deery’s father and dines at
their house.
That night w-hen Kelly calls for an
auto to take him home in the rain,
Forrest Cain drives the machine to
apy on Kelly. Cain takes him far
out on a country road, where Kelly
gives him a thrashing, leaves him
to walk home, drives the machine
back to Atlanta, and gdes to bed.
The newspapers are full of “josh"
stories about the new find of Smith
who “learned baseball in a cor
respondence school,’’ but Smith is
satisfied and Kelly does not seem
at all nervous. Kelly incurs the
enmity of Long Tom. a veteran
catcher, apparently without cause.
Kelly makes good In practice. When
the practice is over Kelly and Long
Tom engage in a fist fight in the
clubhouse, Kelly being victorious.
Now go on with the story.
would be sure to see the pictures.
They would settle him with her one
way or the other. If, the next time
they met, she acted as she had al
ways acted toward him, he would
feel sure that he had not lost any
thing in her estimation. On the
other nand, if her manner was in
anyway cold or distant, he would
know she didn’t approve. “All
right, let it go at that,” he said to
himself. “I’ll know mighty quick
which way the wind blows. If she
can’t stand for me as a ba ? J player
there’s no time like the present tc
find it out.”
He switched off the light and crawl
ed into bed.
“There’s one thing about it, though.”
he declared; “when the editor of that
‘Georgian’ newspaper wants to do
anything, he knews how to do it.”
CHAPTER XIII.
By A. H. C. MITCHELL.
Copyright, 1913, by International News
Service.
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
That night at dinner Mildred told
her parents of having had luncheon
with Gordon Kelly at the club.
“How do you like him, Mildred?”
her father asked.
“Why, I think he’s fine, dad.”
“Well, be nice to him, little girl.
He owns some property up In the
mountains I would like to get hold
of.”
“You don’t suppose I’m going to be
mixed up in your horrid old busi
ness affairs, do you, dad?” cried Mil
dred, indignantly.
“Mildred” said her mother, reprov
ingly.”
“Well. I know, mother, but what
can dad be thinking of.”
Her father laughed. "It would be
worth not less than a thousand dol
lars pin money to you,” he said.
“He’s a Nice Boy.”
“I don’t want your old thousand dol
lars on those terms,” she retorted.
And then the comical side of the sit
uation appealed to her and she burst
out laughing. Her curiosity was
aroused, however, and she succeeded
In wheedling the facts in the case out
of her father, although, a« he ex
pressed it, she was a poor hand to
be intrusted with business secrets
which involved Gordon Kelly.
“I thank you for your offer, dad,”
she remarked when her father had
unfolded his plan,” but r don’t be
lieve T want to allow business to in
terfere with my love affairs.”
“Love affairs, child.” cried . Mrs.
Decry; “I hope you haven’t ”
“Oh. I don’t know, mother,” said
Mildred, daintily nibbling at a salted
almond; “Gordon Kelly Is a very nice
boy.”
* * •
Alone In his room that night Gor
don Kelly once more revieved the
events of the day. The more he saw
of Mildred Deery the less pleasing the
career of a ball player appeared to
him. Her charming ways, her win
some manner, her gracious personal
ity. her good comradeship, the attrac
tiveness of her face and figure, ap
pealed to him more at that moment
than anything had ever before ap
pealed to him in the twenty-one
years of his life.
He sighed deeply, and picking up
a copy of a late edition of the “At
lanta Georgian” began idly turning
its leaves. His attention was sud-
denlv arrested by almost a full page
of pictures of himself, evidently tak
en that very morning. The pictures
showed him at bat. running, jumping
in the air to catch a ball, and in
three or four other poses. I’herr- ,
was nearly a column of type telling
in most laudatory phrase* of what he
had done on the ball field that morn
ing. There was nothing on that
page except Gordon Kelly.
Gordon read every word of type,
looked at every picture carefully, then
threw the newspaper to the floor and
jumped to his feet.
“Great Scott!’’ he ejaculated. “Now
I’ve simply GOT to make good. I
couldn’t quit if I wanted to. When
Mildred sees those pictures she—’’
He stopped short. Yes, Mildred j
T HE fame of Gordon Kelly spread
throughout the country in a
night. Thanks to the whole
page devoted to him in the “Geor
gian,” the news association sent out
laudatory dispatches concerning his
wonderful performance in practice,
and next morning every baseball
“fan" from Maine to California and
from the Great Lakes to the Gulf
read about the “phenomenal ball
player that has never played a game
of ball.”
Correspondents in Atlanta of
Northern newspapers were besieged
for photographs of the young man.
Sunday editors wired for special ar
ticles of him, especially requesting
full details of any “romance” that
might have entered into his career.
And they wanted to know all about
his home life and particularly how
and where he learned to play base
ball. With tremendous Interest shown
in Kelly in all parts of the country
the Atlanta newspapers were forced,
in a measure to “go to” him harder
than ever.
The result, of all this newspaper
praise was that Gordon Kelly sud
denly found himself a popular idol.
Small boys followed him wherever he
went. He was besieged In his hotel
at all hours of the day and night.
A i army of newspaper reporters was
after him all the time wanting an
swers to a thousand and one ques
tions. Kelly took things good natured-
ly for a few days, but finally the
whole thing got on his nerves. He
refused to tell the reporters anything
about his home life; wouldn’t say
where he >ame from or where he
learned what he knew about the na
tional game. That only made mat
ters worse. He became known as
the mysterious man of baseball. One
reporter heard Bill Smith call him
a “mysterioso,” and from that time
on the reporter referred to him as
“Mysterioso Kelly.”
Too Much Notoriety.
Kelly began to receive hundreds of
•'mash'’ notes from all parts of the
country and not a few from Atlan
ta. Perhaps these were the result of
Kelly's measurements some Northern
newspaper had guessed at (Kelly re
fusing to go under the tape), and
which other newspapers had copied.
Things came to such a pass that Kel
ly had ta leave his hotel and And
a quiet boarding place out near the
ball grounds.
"I’m sorry to have to leave," he
told Frank Jones, one of the pro
prietors. "I have enjoyed my stay
here very much, hut this notoriety
Is altogether too much for me."
“I'm sorry to have you go,” re
plied Jones, "but between ourselves
perhaps It Is just as well, and in say
ing this I am paying you a compli
ment, because as things stand now,
it Is impossible to get a stroke of
work out of a bellboy when you are
around. And the waiters are talking
about you so much out in the kitchen
they forget all about serving their
orders to the guests.”
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.
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T HERE are many strange stories
concerning the occult powers
of the mystics and ascetics of
India that must puzzle the most skep
tical. Their curse is dreaded by Euro
pean and native alike, and instances
of misfortune befalling those who have
incurred their anger are very com
mon.
By rigid penance some of these men
have obtained complete mastery over
matter. Their bodily afflictions take
various forms; with some it is ab
stention from food or speech; with
others, lying on a spiked bed or hold
ing one arm aloft till it becomes fixed
in that position and the nails grow
through the hand.
Their power of walking unhurt
through the fire has been testified to
by many reliable witnesses, and at
these exhibitions not only the Yogis
but some of the onlookers have sud
denly been enabled to walk through a
fire so fierce that it scorched those
standing near.
Cases of ascetics going into a
trance, lying burled in the earth for
months, then taken up and resusci
tated have been described by many
reliable people. The Commissioner of
Bareilly In 1870 saw a man suspended
In a deep grave by chains.
The coffin was screwed down in
the sight of many people, boards were
then laid above it and six inches be
low the ground level earth was
spread, in which corn was sown, and
in due time sprang up and was
reaped.
His Soul Absent?
Four men, two placed there by the
Commissioner and two by the Nawab,
kept constant watch. Then at the
end of six months the man was taken
up and, after being warmed and
rubbed, revived.
The Yogi explained that it would
have been impossible to revive him in
less than that time, as his soul had
been absent from his body during hU
trance.
An Indian official who had won the
confidence of the natives and pene
trated further into their lives than
other Europeans told me that he had
twice witnessed miracles performed
by these priest*.
One was a case of raising the dead.
The corpse was brought by night to a
Yogi of great sanctity, who first
sprinkled it with water and ashes,
then threw himself upon the bier and,
uttering many prayers, wrestled with
the unseen powers for the man’s life
till presently there came a breath and
a flicker of life to the inanimate form;
gradually it raised itself, and finally
took up Its bed and walked.
Rumor says that the rope trick was
performed before King Edward when
Prince of Wales, when the spectators
saw a rope suspended In mid-air, up
which a lad climbed and disappeared.
The trick is also said to have been
shown before the Nizam of Hydera
bad and hiscourx. The rope was then
thrown 30 feet into the air, two boys
climbed up it and disappeared, and
presently their limbs were thrown
down, collected and cast on a fire.
A little girl then ran forward, cry
ing, "My brothers!” and threw her
self on the pyre.
After an interval one of the boys
reappeared from the crowd and asked
for his brother. “Here I am,” said a
voice from above, and the second slid
down the rope; then both called for
their sister, and she was found bj-
neath the Nizam’s chair.
Pictures Show Nothing.
Occultists imy that he rope i» sup
ported by spirit, guide* and that when
the boy goes up a miat of the same
color as the air envelops and hides
him.
Photographs taken at the time of
this exhibition have shown nothing
on the plate.
The same.thing oocurred to a friend
of mine who was trying to snapshot
the basket trick and made more than
one exposure, and to myself when
photographing a Yogi walking up a
narrow village street everything was
there except the man at whom I
pointed the camera.
The basket trick, If well one, de
fies detection. A lad or girl Is bound
and pressed into a small round bas
ket, which he seems to All entirely;
ths cover Is put on a cloth thrown
over, and Incantations are said.
A sword Is then thrust through the
basket lengthways, broadways and at
every angle. Now the cover Is re
moved. and behold the basket is emp
ty. and a little later the victim walks
in unhurt and smiling from another
part of the compound.
In the Fitting Room .:.
^\TO, 1 have n
very long.
not been waiting
At least, it has
not seemed long, for I have
my book with me, and I can even
forget clothes when I have a good
novel. Yes, I almost always take a
book with me when 1 go for a ii -
ting, and, really, the books I have
got through with while waiting for
dressmakers would fill a library.
“It’» funny how some of my dresses
suggest certain books. I never put
on my lavender chiffon without thinn
ing of ‘Burled Alive.’ My brown vel
vet is associated with Under the
Greenwood Tree.’ I Just can’t bear
to wear an old white voile of mine,
because it reminds me of the sad end
of ‘Anna Karenina.’
“Oh, is that my dress? I thought
mine was a lighter shade of blue. I
think this dark blue makes my ey< >
look kind of washed out. But nev«‘*
mind, I can wear a jabot n \! tO :
face, and that will relieve the stronj:
color.
The Old Style.
“No, don’t make It too hobbly. I
may be old-fashioned, but I do like a
dress that I can walk In and sit down
In. though I know It’s the style now
to have your dresses made so that
you can’t do either.
“I have a friend whose new spring
suit is so tight about the ankles that
she simply can’t take a step without
holding it up. She says she doesn't
care, for her shoes are so tight that
there’s no comfort fn walking in then .
so she might as well sit still. I think
women are perfect geese about
clothes, or, rather, they are like sheep,
and where one goes the others follow.
“Well, I think you have got that
skirt a little bit too full. One doesn’t
want to be so old-fashioned that one
looks like a scarecrow, and, of course,
this is an easy dress to hold up in
case I can’t walk in it easily.
"Don’t you ever get tired of stick
ing pins into women? Or, rather, don’t
you ever long to stick pins into them
instead of just into their clothes?
That would give them something to
be fussy about. I often wonder that
we don’t hear of shocking crimes
committed in fitting rooms by mad
dened modistes. So far as I know, no
woman has ever met with foul play
when she went for a fitting. It seems
strange, too.
“This reminds me of my book. 1
had just got to an awfully exciting
part in ‘Clayhanger’ when you came
in. It was where the hero suddenly
learns that the girl he's engaged to
has just married another man, and I
am crazy to know why she did it.
But probably I will be as long in
finding out as I will in getting this
dress. I have learned that there are
two classes of people you never can
hurry, and they are novelists and
dressmakers. Really, though, they
both give one such delicious suspense
that one doesn’t mind the waiting.
"Make the collar a little tighter,
please; I like my collars very tight,
and very high, for my neck is so long.
Yes, you may make the skirt two
inches from the floor; there’s one
thing I won’t do, and that is clean up
New York streets with my dresses. It
really makes me ill to hear women
raVe about sanitation and hygiene,
and go into fits about microbes in un
wrapped bread, while all the time
they are defying the rules of health
and gathering up all the microbes in
sight with their long skirts.
Not Tired.
"No. I’m not a bit tired, thank you.
I know that some women always get
faint when they are being fitted, but
somehow it seems to brace me up.
"Perhaps this is because my book
sort of fortifies me for a fitting. But
I know I shall never wear this dress
without thinking of that unhappy
hero. r do hope that he will turn
out well, so that I may have some
pleasant thoughts about my gown
vhile I am wearing it.
"Oh. yes, I'm sure the dress will
turn out well, and you needn’t mind
t it is a wee bit hobbly—just enough
to allow me to take decent steps.
' ou w iH try and send the dress to
morrow night? Well, good morning.
"Oh, I mustn’t forget my poor ‘Clay-
hanger.’ ”
Had to Draw the Line.
, Must—Nice party, ain’t it. Major Le
Sponger? ’Tgh and low, rich and poor
—most people are welcome to this
'ouse! This is Liberty ’All. this is!
No false pride or ’umbug about me!
I’m a self-made man, I am!
The Major—Very nice party, in-
ip^rl. Mr. Shoddy! How proud your
father and mother must feel! Are
they here?
Host—Well, no! ’Ang it all, you
know, one must draw the line some
where!
Jack London’s new story,
“The Scarlet Plague,” begins in
the American Monthly Magazine
given free with every copy of
next Sunday’s American.
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Rm M not tuMiir. l-t
A \V/ *| £ \y/ The Same Being From a Young Girl Who Be-
W a.11 Of W Oc moans the Fact of Her Ugliness
By DOROTHY DIX.
L ISTEN to this wail of woe.
A young girl writes:
"I’m a girl of nineteen years of
age, and have about given up this eter
nal strife to live. I am in despair, and
have no longer a desire to exist in this
cruel world. And my reason is this:
“I am short. I am fat. I have a
flat, broad nose and a bad complexion.
No matter what exercise I take, how
Superfluous
Hair Truths
Stop Experimenting
There are but few depilatories sold.
Tot* think there are hundreds because
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Women stop using:
So-Called Hair Removers
when they learn that they are harm
ful. Therefore, they can not be sold
under the same name for any length
of time. Then the identical, worth
less' harmful concoctions arc given
new names and advertised again as
totally different preparations to
Defraud the Same Foolish Women
who innocently buy them over and
over again under different names, and
this will continue as long as women
are so unwise as to experiment with
unknown, so-called hair removers.
Dj^JRiraefe
Has Stood the Test of Time
De Miracle has been sold as De
Miracle for over eleven years, and Its
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acknowledged the world over by emi
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out experimenting.
Leaves No Tell-Tale Smell
If you use De Miracle it will be im
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know that you have used a hair re
mover because De Miracle evaporates
Immediately after accomplishing Its
work, therefore leaves no odor what
ever. On the other hand, if you usa
any dspilatorv with a distinctive odor,
an offensive, 'te'l-tale smell will cling
to your skin for hours.
Avoid Permanent Disfigurement
by refusing substitutes. If your dealer
will not supply you send $1.00 direct.
Free information how to determine
which depilatories are harmful and
worthless sent In plain, sealed enve
lope.
New truths In next advt.
De Miracle Chemical Co., New York
Sold and Recommended by
Chamberlain-Johnson-DuBose Co.
much I diet, my skin !s still sallow and
rough.
"How can a girl five under such draw
backs?
"Every girl desires to be pretty, at
tractive, and have people love her; but
In my case, wherever I go, the people
that I meet look at me once, and if they
are nice to me it’s because they feel
it’s their duty to be kind to a homely
girl.
“I know what you will say. Try to
be nice in other ways; try to be good,
kind and honest, and that will com
pensate you for other things. Oh, no,
it won’t. I have tried, and with the
result that people say: ‘Oh, yes, she's
a good girl, but she’s so plain.’ No
matter how much I accomplish there
is always that great, big ‘but* in back
of it. I have often made up my mind
to just work, work, work, but I can’t
do it. I long for a little pleasure, to
have a little admiration like other girls.
“I long to go out with other young
people and have a beau of my very
own. Why, the boys won’t look twice
at me. The only thing that helps a
woman along in this world is beauty.
That paves the way for all else. I
don’t think it’s fair that some should
have it all and others should have
nothing. It makes me even doubt the
justice of God.
A Pretty Woman.
"What Is there for me to live for
in the world? A husband and chil
dren? I’ll never have those, it seems.
To be famous? It’s not in me. I’m
not clever enough. Can’t you shed one
ray of comfort to this lonely, hopeless,
ugly girl?’
(Signed) "ONE IN DESPAIR."
[’ll not be hypocritical enough to tell
; this forelorn little sister that It does
I not make any difference whether a girl
I is plain or homely, and that it’s better
j to have a peaches and cream complex-
j Ion.
Speaking from a mundane stand-
j point, and we are all very much on this
• arth when we are nineteen years old,
i it does matter a lot to our happiness
j whether we are living pictures or not,
and a lily skin Is a more present advan
tage than it is to possess all of the car
dinal virtures, and then some.
Good looks are a great asset to a girl.
It Is the magic that lifts the grumpiest
man out of his seat on the street car;
that makes churls run to do her bid
ding; that makes employers put up with
bad spelling and slack work; that in
sures partners for the dance, and invi
tations to theaters and restaurant sup
pers. Beauty is woman'* letter of credit
that the world honors at sight. In ad
dition, it is a personal rapture to Its
happy possessor, and the \toman who
sets everybody rubbering as she walks
down the street, and who hears a mur
mur of “Peach" follow her, has, at
least, drunk of the nectar of the gods.
No. There is no use in trying to
take the sting out of homeliness by
minimizing the power of beauty. It
is great and potent, but It Is not all-
powerful, as my correspondent seems
to think, and there is no need to de
spair as she does because she is an ugly
duckling
For her consolation I would remind
her, first, that beauty is in the eye of
the beholder, and that there i* no hard
and fixed rule as to what constitutes
pulchritude in a woman. This makes
It possible for women to give an illu
sion of good looks, where none exists,
simply by their dressing. When we
speak of a pretty woman we mean one
who has made an attractive picture by
the color and charm of her clothes, the
way her hair is arranged, by the way
she walks and sits, and carries herself,
whether she has got a single good fea
ture that would entitle her to entrance
In a beauty show or not.
It Is one of the triumph of art that
none of us need be quite as ugly as
nature made us. Dress, like the man
tle of charity, covers a multitude of
sins, and no woman need wholly de
spair on account of her look* while
Heaven still grants us the boon of
dressmakers and milliners.
Another bit of consolation that I can
offer my correspondent is that time will
be her friend, and not her enemy, and
that she will grow better looking as
the years go by. Many an ugly girl
makes a striking and handsome mid
dle-aged woman, and this Is almost
sure to be the case if she keeps her
heart sweet and her mind active and
intelligent.
Time and experience are sculptors that
chisel rough features into fine outlines,
and the mere radiance of goodness shin
ing through a woman’s face make* it
beautiful. Moreover, there Is this furth
er recompense: The woman who was
not fair and beautiful in her youth
never has to listen to that bitterest
speech that ever falls on female ears,
“My, but how you have faded!”
Nor should my correspondent despair
of never being able to marry because
she is not beautiful. Look about you,
little girl, at the married women, and
see how few of them are real rivals of
Lillian Russell.