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Hints to Social « k? A Bachelor’s Diary He Is Mistaken for a Kidnapper By MAX. IN THE HAUNTED CASTLE SUDDENLY BOTH HEARD THE SOUND OF MUFFLED FOOTSTEPS. AS IF SOME ONE WERE RUNNING ON HEAVY CARPET. AND THEY KNEW THERE WAS NO CAR. PET IN ALL THE VAST STONE HALLS. BEFORE The Most Exciting Serial of the Year. SERIALIZED By J. W. McCONAUGHY (Copyright, 1913, by Star Co.) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.: Moaning feebly, Rusty shook his gray head “I’se so soalrt 1 don’ remember noth in'." “They’re nothing but suits of armor. Stay on your pins and don't bump into me again. The next one of those rear- end collisions and I'm liable to let some moonlight into you. You’ve been tread ing on my heels every step I take und when I stop you bump into me." "I’m powerful scalrt 1 might lose you " "A fine chance!” snorted his master. He swung the lantern about and peered into the corners of the apartment. ("Well, Rusty," be went on in his nat ural voice. we've been through i lUs old castle pretty thoroughly now from dungeon to tower, and not a sign of Duke or Prince or anyone else unless they pound or carr> a smoky lantern. It’s a clew. Rusty, it's a dew We’ll stick right here till we find out where it leads I'll swear the Duke never went to Madrid, but came right here from the inn Get away from me. 1 tell you!" A Little Cheer. He struck a match and resumed his examination of the fireplace, holding the light well inside. “There’s a line chance for u fire The chimney 's clear. Now then, but up that little table and start a fire. You won’t feel half so stared when you've got a good blaze behind you.” By virtue of his great weight Rusty reduced the old table to firewood by the simple process of sitting on it As he was building the tire, Jarvis suggest ed that he would scout around a bit. "Don’t you do no scoutin' outside of this here room!” ordered the old darky, straightening up. Jarvis laughed and told him to g on with the lire He sat down on the stone floor and began removing his shoe with many groans “Now. what's the matter? What's NATIONAL SURGICAL INSTITUTE For the Treatment of DEFORMITIES Established 1874 • Give the deform ed children a i chance. Send us their names, we can help them. This Institute Treats Club Feet Diseases of the Spine, Hip Joints Paralysis, etc. Send for illustrated catalog. 72 South Pryor Street, Atlanta, Ga. THEY COULD ATTEMPT TO LOCATE THE SOUND THERE CAME TWO THUDS, ONE LIGHT AND ONE HEAVY, AS IF OF A BLOW AND A FALL, AND THEN A LOW HEART CHILLING MOAN THAT SEEMED TO COME NOT wrong with your shoe?" * ’Taln’t my shoe- it s my foot,” grunted Rusty. “You know, when I was holdln’ the bosses an' waitin’ an’ wait in' fer you to come out dem guns went ff ami all dem hosses jumped right on me!” “There were only two horses. Rusty,” smiled the young man. I was countin' dey feet," grumbled the servant, as he bent over the lire once more. He had sufficiently recov ered from his fright to be disgruntled and make pertinent addenda to his master's comments on the lay of the land. “This way leads to the main gate.” remarked Jarvis, thoughtfully, peering through the other door. “That’s where dat black thing fol lowed me.” grumbled Rusty. He ap peared to locate every Inch of the cas tle through its connection with some personal disaster. The Death Trap. “Well, there's been a black thing following me." retorted Jarvis, “tread ing on my heels every step I've taken. Hin! And that door goes to the ar mory. “That’s where 1 fell down dem slip pery stairs.” Suddenly Jarvis stopped and stared intently into a far corner beyond the fireplace. There was a small door partly opened, as though some one had pulled it hastily behind him as he darted through. “That's it!" he exclaimed, triumph antly. darting forward. "Where can that lead His foot went down suddenly through the floor. He hurled himself forward and the floor seemed to rise and strike him violently in the chest. The next Instant he rolled to one side and was on his feet. “My God!’’ he muttered brokenly, the cold sweat bathing his face. “My God! That was a close one!" "I.ordy, Mnrsc Warren wha’ dat?” cried Rusty, starting to bis feet War ren’s lantern had been dashed against the wall and he stood in the uncertain firelight. “Get hack!” he ordered sharply. Light that other lantern." Rusty cautiously approached with the lighted lantern. Warren took It In his left hand and held out his right. “Take a good grip, Rusty. Can you hold me?” “Yes. sah'" Rusty crouched back and set himself. Jarvis cautiously stepped out with his left foot. A four-foot strip of the floor sank under the light weight ami the other end of the trap, the end nearest the wall, rose. If he had been walking at an ordinary gait nothing could have saved him. The speed of his rush and his remarkable agility car ried forward far enough for the weight T his upper body to strike the rising end of the trap and thus shut it again “God! I thought so!" he murmured as he stepped back after a timid peep into the black pit below. He wiped is face and his hand trembled slightly for the first time that night “Water and a long drop! No wonder people j disappear in this castle. Good Ix>rd! ! What if her brother went down there! 'tusty! Whatever happens, keep clear ..f this If you step on this you’ll never see Kentucky again for sure"' Rusty opened his ample lips, hut be fore he could speak a groan came from I b< yond the wall they were facing It j sounded nearer and more human than I ever. But it trailed off into a sound FROM ONE OF ALL THE HALLS. BUT ALL OF THEM. THIS WAS IMMEDIATELY ANSWERED BY A MOAN THAT CAME UNMISTAKABLY FROM RUSTY. “I WANNA GO HOME! I WANNA GO HOME!" like the winds among the empty echoing towers. “It certainly sounded like a groan,” muttered Jarvis, tip toeing cautiously around the trap toward the little door “Shut up. Rusty!” The faithful but terrified servitor was giving vent to sounds more dreadful than those that issued from the walls. “Mars© Warren! look out!” he begged. The Portrait. “Listen!’’ He stood for a few mo ments in silence, peering in at a little Might of stone steps that led up through the wall. Then he turned back to the fireplace. “1 guess it’s the wind. This place Is getting on our nerves." “This warn t no wind. Marse War- I roll.” protested Rusty, solemnly. "Ah ! hope to die if dat warn’t a sure-nuff j groan. An' ah wants to tell you some thin' else ' He turned arid stared ac cusingly at a large portrait of some grandee of Charles Y.'s time which hung beside the. broad steps that mount ed to the corridor of the armory. “Hah 1 you ever been in church or somewhere ! an' all of a sudden a feelin' come over 1 you that there was eyes starin’ at the back o' your haid? You just knowed it?—until you couldn’ stan' It no longer and just had to turn 'round and see who ’t was?” “Why yes. Rusty,” agreed Jarvis wonderingly “I've had that happen. Why?” "That’s just the way' I feel now—like they was eyes lookin' at me. You see dat picture? Seems like dat feller was lookin’ at me like he’d step right out o' de frame; or dem two battleship boogies” he pointed to the knights be side the staircase—"jump right down here!” "It’s been a good many hundred years since those boys jumped. Rusty," smiled his master Sh-h' Listen!" There was the sound of swift footsteps again. Jar vis softly cocked his pistol. ''Somebody running coming this way." Again it ended In the two thuds, like a blow and fall. And all was still. Jar vis swore. "1 wanna go home," moaned the darky. His master set his teeth "What do you know about that?” He had walked swiftly to the little door In the wall ami was peering in. "I don't know nothin’ about." j "1 thought so!" exclaimed Jarvis and 1 lie whistle.I softly, as if in utter amaze ment. Rusty s curiosity again overcame i his terror and he drew near. Realties, it was more comfortable in the shelter of his master's .45. I "What is.lt?” he asked “Rusty, this man with the smoky J lantern has been up thc^ stuirs!" "You ain't a-goin* up"” protested the I old darky. "1 am not!" was the emphatic reply, " cause the Duke or some of his men are probably at the top of the stairs with a long gun—and I'm no book hero.” “Supposin' it am the Prince,” sug gested Rusty, with awe “Well, suppose It is the Prince He might Mow my head off because be doesn’t know what I came for. And if its some one else they’ll blow my head off because they do know." Without warning the sound of the running feei reached them again, but now it seemed to come from every quar ter of the surrounding area Jarvis, with Rusty cowering at bis elbow, back ed out into the center of the room, the long blue barrel of bis revolver making uick play in all directions. To Be Continued To-morrow. J ULY 1.—Our days are so mo notonous that if I were to at tempt to set down in detail what happens, it would sound like a chapter from Genesis: And Arpasha begat Shelah, and Shelah begat Eber, and Eber begat Joktan. and Joktan begat Almodad, etc., etc., an endless chain of begats. For 1 would relate in the same sing-song strain that a bath in the lake followed getting up and break fast follows the bath, and a nap fol lows breakfast, and lunch follows the nap, and a walk In the woods follows the lunch, etc., etc., a monotony that Is growing pleasing to me now that I have learned to find thrills of ex citement in Mrs. Allen’s daily report at breakfast that she found a rat in the trap. I do not recall a market report in six months previous that has excited me more. Manette is growing brown and fat and sturdy, and with no one near to remind us that she has a delicate stomach, all such trouble has passed away, proving rny contention that w* keep our physical ailments alive by recognition of their existence. If Richards could see us eating our pic nic lunches off a log in the woods, stopping occasionally to brush off an Inquisitive ant or a ladybug that Is lost from home, and regarding these little creatures of another world as friends, instead of germ - infested en emies, she would steal the child from me. and bring suit In the court charg ing that I am not fit to be its guar dian. Her Future. "I am convinced,” I said gravely to Manette this afternoon, taking a chicken sandwich from her hands, for she always the hostess at our picnics, "that a man-cared-for child is healthier than one that is cared for by a woman. She is neither nagged nor pampered so much. Now, if Richards were here she would make you throw away that sand wich because there ia an ant on it— brush it off, my dear—and she would worry you because there is a streak of dirt on your cheek and a rip in your dress. I don't. I junt let you forget all those things and be happy. I never want you, my baby, to be so much of a woman that you can’t en joy the Lord's big outdoors because you have left your powder rag at home. You must rise above yourself, little one.” She looked at me gravely with thoee big blue eyes, and then, rob bing her sandwich of the meat that she might temporarily rid the brown - eyed pup of the look of longing he had fastened on her. said. “When 1 get big, I w'on’t be a woman at all. I’ll just be your wife." "How I wleh you were old enough." I replied fervently. That would be a glorious thing. Diary. To take a child and train her in the ways one desired, and then marry her when she is grow'n. "You will marry snriw nice young man,” I argued, "and go away and leave your Uncle Max. It is* the way of nature, and I can’t keep you al ways.” I suppose I unconsciously sighed, for in another moment she was on my lap. rubbing a greasy sandwich down the back of my neck, while she protested between hugs and crumby kisses that she never intended to leave me. unless, and it gave me a twinge to hear her say it, “Lisbeth sent for her.” I was holding her tight with one hand, and with the other was trying to make the brown-eyed pup leap over our heads for a piece of chicken when I heard the sound of approach ing horses, and a girl’s merry laugh. There was an abrupt turn in the bridal path near us, and a minute later they appeared in view, all un conscious of three interested listen ers. for the pup had also paused in his play to cock wise-looking ears their way. “I don’t.” the girl was saying, "be lieve in the kind of love you talk about. It would make of woman a sort of domestic chattel, like a cook- stove or a table. The fundamental principles of liberty—here her atten tion was attracted to us by the pup’s shrill bark—I think that term, "fun damental principles," made him fear a procession of women were coming —and she stopped abruptly, staring at us with eyes that were first aston ished, and that changed to admiration when she saw Manette. An Admirer, "What a beautiful child,” she said, swinging lightly from her hor»e, and coming across the grass toward us. her horse following, with his nose pressed lovingly against her shoulder. "Whose is she," Impatiently, "and what is she doing here in these wilds alone with a man like you?" My disguise was plainly perfect. I hadn’t shaved in three weeks, and wore that morning a suit of Allen’s overalls, for we contemplated a Jaunt across the lake in an improvised raft. I laughed. I do not know- when I was more amused. "That," I replied, making no at tempt to rise or remove my hat, “is not the affair of every wayfarer on the road.” She colored angrily. “I intend to make it my affair. Look at her shoes with holes In the toes, and the scratches on her poor little arms and legs. You poor baby,” getting down on her knees, “has that man been abusing you?” I do not think at first Manette com prehended what the girl meant, and when it dawned upon her, her indig nation was fine to see. “I am not a poor child,” she cried. "I am a rich child; everyone says so. Nurse says I’ll be worth millions some day; and 1 don’t want them. I want oniy my Uncle Max!” I think there Hashed across her brain a recollection of the woman who kidnaped her, for in a frenzy she threw her arms around my neck and screamed: “Make her go ’way! Make her go ’way! I’m afraid; I’m afraid! ” I was amused no longer, for the child was plainly suffering. Rising to my feet. I lifted my hat and said very coldly: “You are trespassing on private property. Please ride on." “We will go." she answered, angri ly. “but this doesn’t end here. 1 will find out who this Uncle Max Is the child wants, and take steps to restore her to her guardian. She plainly doesn’t belong to a man like you.” He Laughs. Then, though Manette still whim pered I threw back my head and laughed till the woods rang with it. 1 had a vision of what my friends and associates in the city would say if they knew some pert young suf fragette was preparing to have me ar rested for a tramp and abductor of small children. It even flashed across my mind that if those men afflicted with the kind of softening of the brain that fits them for getting out the Sunday papers knew' of it. they would give it three pages, with pic tures of all of us, including the pup fend the sandwich Manette still held in her grimy fingers. They might even give a picture in magnified pro portions of the ant that this little baby-heiress to millions had brushed off her bread. I laughed s^ long that Manette stopped whimpering, and lifting her face from my shoulder said in tones that breathed defiance, "Go ’w r ay, please. 1 want my Uncle Max.” The girl turned to her escort, who had jumped from his horse when I began to laugh, and said something I did not catch. Evidently his reply- restrained her from tearing the child from my arms, for with a protesting air she suffered herself to be helped to her horse, and they rode away. The last look I had of her was of a fact* crimson w ith indignation and anger. The last she had of me was of a man doubled up with laughter. "Manette,” I said gravely, taking my r share of the lemon cake, "those briar scratches you got on your arms and legs yesterday are giving your Uncle Max a bad name.” Advice to the Lovelorn By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. LET YOUR MOTHER DECIDE. - DEAR MISS FAIRFAX: I am in love with a young man with whom I have been keeping company for quite some time. We have broken off friedship for a while, and my mother strongly objects to his return. 1 love him. ('an you tell me what is best to do? H. V. E. Mother always knows best, par ticularly when the girl is very young, which I am judging is your case. If he is worthy of you he will wait. Believe me, my dear, if he is the man set aside to be your mate he w ill not be easily discouraged. THAT IS HIS PLACE. DEAR MISS FAIRFAX: Will you kindly enlighten me as to whether It is proper to thank the gentlemen after returning form a show or a ball? BABY. The good old-fashioned courtesy makes all the pleasure his. He owes you the delight he has had in your company. LET YOUR MOTHER KNOW. DEAR MISS FAIRFAX: I am sixteen and deeply in love with a man two years my senior. For six months he took me home from school, and after 1 was grad uated he expressed his love for me. He has given me a ring. The only thing that makes me hesitate is that we are of a dif ferent religion. ESTELLE. Your mother should know of your love affair at once. Not only because of the dlifference in religion, but be cause of your extreme youth. DUTY, MY DEAR. Dear Miss Fairfax: 1 have been engaged to a young man two years. The man is 33 years old. We love each other very much. Owing to our aged mothers, we think it’s impossible to get married, as he i>- the only support of his mother and I am the only child left at home to take care of my mother, who is 85. Between love and duty, which will we do? M. S. Your mothers are so old that your time of waiting will be very short. I am sure if either of you failed in your duty you would live to regret It. Unless you can marry and take your mothers with you, which is not advisable, postpone your marriage till you can enter it feeling that your happiness is not purchased w-lth an other’s woe. LET THE MATTER END. Dear Miss Fairfax; I had the pleasure of meeting a young man at a public dance. He asked to sec me home and I consented. He made an appoint ment with me that we both kept. When he left me he failed to set a definite time for a next meeting, saying he would try to visit a place where I frequented. Now. do you think that I should have anything to do with him in the form of writing, etc., or drop him, as I am positive that he never will visit this place? ANXIOUS. You are very sure he will not keep any appointments he makes, so why concern yourself about him? Let the acquaintance drop before It is more serious. No Tunes Allowed. Not long ago a certain brass band, which shall be nameless, was engaged to play at a local village feast. On the way there the conducter suggested that they should “have a tune." but the driver of the wagonette at once ob jected to the project. "No toons while I drive," he remarked. “But. why?" persisted the conductor. “Surely the horses wouldn't run away?" “No." said the driver, "they wouldn't." "Then why object?" "Simply hecos the poor beggars could not run away If they tried." was the grim retort “Their running away days is over, an' so long as I drives you ain't a-going to take no mean advantage of 'em That's w hy 1 sez no toons " I The conductor subsided, and there were “no toons" on that Journey. Dine at a smart restaurant and forgot your table manners (From London Punch.) • • • • The Temper Curse B ?dqrothy dix. T HE real problems of life are not the big problems , nor are Its tragedies the great sorrow's of existence. The conundrums that no body can an8W'er are offered by just little everyday complications, and the things that break our hearts, and wreck homes, are not great sins, or afflictions, but small, miserable, sor did worries and aggravations that blot out the sunshine and take all the Joy out of life for us. As an example of this I submit the case of one of my correspondents. She is a good, conscientious woman, married to a good man, and they have had a happy home. Recently, however, the woman s mother has died and she had to offer the shelter of her home to a young sister, a beautiful and talented girl of 20, who has the temper of a virago. The girl has nowhere e\se to go, for although she is amply fitted by her abilities to support herself, she can keep no situation because of her un controlled temper and tongue. To have to support her is a burden on her sister, but the worst feature of it Is that the girl has made a peace ful and happy home such a storm center, that it is wrecking it. and the woman's husband is very naturally threatening to send the sister away. Fears the Worst. The poor wife and sister is between two fires. She fears the worst for her sister if the girl, young and beau tiful and headstrong, is deprived of all guardianship and restraint, and even of shelter, and at the same time she feels the injustice of sacrificing her husband and her home to the girl's tantrums, and she asks what she had best do under the circum stances. I side with the husband. I think that there is nothing else in the world in which the most of us show ourselves so cowardly as in the craven, meachin' way in which we give into people with tempers and let them ride roughshod over us. Be fore a redheaded temper and a ven omous tongue we are all arrant cow ards, and that is why the possessors of tempers don’t try to control them. Among my acquaintances there is a certain child who holds the world's championship for crying. She shrieks and shrieks until she maddens every body about her. Not long ago, catch ing her for once in a smiling mood, 1 said, "Mabel, why do you cry so much?” She looked at me in round- eyed amazement and calmly replied, "Why, if I didn’t cry, how would I get anything I want?” That is the philosophy of the indi viduals with high tempers. They know that the balance of us are so terrified at the thought of their rag ing that we will give into them with out an argument; that we will walk on eggs to try to keep from ruffling their sensibilities, and that we will put up with any injustice or imposi tion rather than jo through a scene with them. So They Rage. Therefore they rage. It’s the easi est way to get what they want, for the person without a temper is no more fitted to cope with the individual with a temper than an infant in arms is to engage in a prize fight with Jack Johnson. Every one of us knows some great, big. strong, splendid man who is so afraid of his wife’s temper that he lies to her about having to see some man downtown if he wants to stay out a few minutes longer than the curfew she rings on him. and who doesn't dare to even treat an old woman friend with common civility if he meets her when wife is along. All of us know women who live :n such terror of their husband's temper that they tremble at the very sound of his keys in the front door, and who spend their lives in falsifying house hold accounts, and trying to conceal everything that happens in the house hold that could possibly vex their violent spouses. Ordinarily these men and womm are not cowards. They have the cour age to lead a charge in battle, or face death without a tremor. They even have the moral coinage to endure their hell-on-earth of being married to a high tempered wife or husband, yet before that temper they abject worms of the dust, without a fight in them. So far as 1 know, no psychologist has ever attempted to explain the fear we have of the tempers of those with whom we must live. Perhaps the struggle for existence takes so much out of us that we have no strength left with which to wage a perpetual battle at home. Perhaps we have a sense of decency that the high tem pered lack which keeps us from retaliating in kind. Perhaps no real lady or gentleman is fitted to deal w-ith the woman or man who has not the finer instincts that consideration for other people and self-mastery give. At any rate the fact remains that we all do stand in such shaking, quivering fear of the high tempered that we encourage them in giving full reign to their evil dispositions. This makes us to a degree accessory before the crime. We need more grit and backbone in dealing w’ith them, and it's dollars to doughnouts that if the evil tempered knew' that they would be chucked out of house and home unless they controlled them selves they would curb their passions. Temper should be made the first cause for divorce. If every woman was perfectly aware that sh e would have to be gentle and amiable in order to hold down her job, and have a husband to pay her bills for her instead of having to hustle to support herself, there would be no more shrewish women, nor men who had heart fail ure every time they thought of w'hat their wives would say to them when they got home. If every man knew' that he would have to answer to a divorce summons and pay alimony if he didn’t make himself pleasant and agreeable at home, we should have no more do mestic bullies and tyrants who talk to their wives as they w'ould not dare speak to any husky man W'ho could knock them down. And if all of our sisters, and our cousins, and our aunts, and our mothers-in-law, who come and live on us, and who keep us dodging their ways, and trying to keep from pre cipitating an avalanche of fury and abuse on our hearthstones, were per fectly sure that they would either have to be good-natured or get out, we should see such a sweetening up of dispositions as the world has nev er known. For the person with the temper is never anything but a selfish bully. We could call his, or her bluff, if we had 4he nerve to do it. Just Sampling It. For a long time the pale-faced man regarded the sandwich on the counter before him suspiciously. At length he carefully lifted off the top slice of bread, took out a piece of ham, ate 41, and re placed as before. In a few seconds he again removed the top piece, ex tracted another piece of meat this time, and replaced the top again; and again the performance was repeated until the ham had gone. A bystander tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” said the inquisitive one, “hut why don’t you eat up your sandwich, instead of picking at it in that fashion?” “Well, you see,” w'hlspered back the other, glaring around suspiciously. “1 can not very w'ell eat it. It isn’t my sandwich.” COMES OUT A RIBBON LIES FLAT ON THE BRUSH Good teeth Good health with COLGATE'S t ~”- RIBBON DENTAL CREAM Delicious yV/t '' Efficient KODAKS Historic College For Women Wesleyan MACON, GEORGIA Delightful climate. Thorough and extensive course of study. Music, Art and Oratory of the highest order. Illustrious body of alum nae, choice student body, ideal home life, stu dent government, excellent faculty, splendid boarding department and good athletics. The oldest and one of the choicest great colleges for women in the world. Address. Dept. M. C. R. JENKINS, Macon Georgia 1V1A5L YOUR FILMS TO US For developing We are film specialists wtth the larg est laboratory in the South. 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