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The Coralbank Case
By MATTHEW JAMES.
O NE of the smarest little robber
ies that has ever come under
my notice,” said Detective Hunt
er. of Scotland Yard, as he musingly
lit his first cigar one night recently at
my rooms in Portman Square, ‘‘was that
perpetrated in the autumn of last year
upon a Mr. Silas Jay, then residing in
a pretty little house known as “Coral-
hank” and situated about half a mile
beyond Windsor.”
I was on the alert in an Instant, for
there were few things I like better than
listening to one of Detective Hunter's
professional experiences.
“Perhaps,” he said, after a few mo
ments’ reflection. “I had better give
you the particulars as they were nar
rated to me by Mr. Silas Jay himself,
since I personally had nothing to do with
the case.”
The story ran as follows:
First, I must explain that Mr. Jay,
who was a bachelor, was a man of
many prejudices. He suspected every
body, and regarded all recognized and
established institutions with unqualified
distrust. Those that were national were
torpid, and therefore mere shams, while
those that were not were* established
chiefly for the fattening of financiers
by any process, honest or otherwise, but
more generally otherwise.
The existing police system held a
prominent position in the former cate
gory. while banking houses figured no
less conspicuously in the latter. This
last opinion Induced hml to distribute
his capital among six or seven banks,
in order that, should any one of them
fail and swindle him out of his money,
his fortune would not be very materially
Impaired. Well, among these banking
houses was one situated in Windsor,
which, for the sake of convenience, he
always used w'hen at home, and in this
bank the sum of $60,000 was deposited.
The Rumor Spreads.
How the rumor reached him I was
never able to discover, but one day in
October he presented himself in great
excitement at the offices of the bank In
question, declaring that he had heard it
whispered they contemplated suspending
payment, and demanding an immediate
surrender of his credit balance of $60,-
000.
The manager Indignantly repudiated
the suspicion, but the old gentleman watf
thoroughly frightened, and finally the
money was handed to him over the
counter in the shape of a hundred $500
and two hundred $50 notes. These, as he
afterwards explained to me, he Intended
depositing the following day in another
< f the local banks. But this intention
was frustrated.
Early the next morning it was dis
covered that during the night an entry
had been effected into the house, and
the alarmed Mr. Jay. descending hastily
to the library, discovered, to his morti
fication, that the larger of the two per-
cels of bank notes, of the value of £10,-r
000. had been abstracted from the draw
er in which he had locked it. The
smaller but more valuable parcel he had
placed, for greater security, in a se
cret compartment of his secretary, and
this, to his intense relief, he found to
be intact. The ingeniousness of the
contrivance had baffled the thief, who
had been forced to retire without secur
ing the bulk of the money.
Mr. Jay dispatched a servant with a
telegram, which he had himself indited
requesting the authorities at Scotland
Yard to send down a detective at the
“earliest possible opportunity.”
Half an hour later the servant re
turned without having dispatched the
telegram and accompanied by a tall,
shrewd-looking, businesslike man of
about thirty-five. He was immediately
conducted to the library, where, without
loss of time, he introduced both himself
and his errand to the astonished Mr
Jay. He spoke with a quick, intelligent
precision that was not without its effect
on his listener.
“Mr. Walter Craft.’’
“Mr. Silas Jay, I believe?” he said,
briskly. “I chanced to be in the tele
graph office w’hen your servant entered,
and, observing the direction of the mes
sage he was about to dispatch, took the
liberty of interrupting it until I had seen
you. But first allow me to Introduce
myself.”
He took a card from his pocket and
laid it on the table. Mr. Jay picked it
up and read the name, “Mr. Walter
Craft, detective inspector, Scotland
Yard.”
“As you see,” resumed the stranger
in a matter-of-fact tone, “I am connect
ed with the establishment to which your
telegram w r as directed, and, this being
so, I took the further liberty of making
myself acquainted with its contents.
The closing words, ‘earliest possible op
portunity,’ particularly appealed to my
professional recognition, of the value of
time; so, being on the spot, I have coma
straight to you to offer my services in
discovering the perpetrator or perpetra
tors of the robbery which took place
here last night, the chief particulars of
which I have already elicited from your
servant."
Mr. Jay rose from his chair, “I am
glad you came,” he said.
The detective bowed, and then, resum
ing his brisk, businesslike air, which
appeared to afford his listener no small
satisfaction, said:
“Then let us begin at once.”
"Had you any other money' in the
house?" His keen, gray eyes searched
Mr. Jay’s face.
The latter hesitated. He was at all
times a suspicious man. But the de
tective’s keen insight into the position
of things had strongly prepossessed
himself in his favor, while his charac
ter was no doubt unimpeachable. So,
after a moment’s consideration, he told
the story of the untouched parcel of
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medicine.
bank notes, even going so far, in the ex
uberance of his spirits at the thief s fail
ure, as to touch the secret spring which
opened the hidden compartment and re
veal to the detective the notes within.
As he did so, however, he appeared to
regret the action, for he made a move
ment as if to reclose the compartment,
but the detective stopped him.
“Pardon me,” he said quickly, “but
did I understand you to say that you
drew these notes from the bank with
those that are missing?”
Silas Jay nodded.
"In that case,” said the detective, em
phatically, ”1 must ask you to allow me
to examine these notes. A great deal
may depend on my doing so.”
The Suspicion.
Silas Jay reluctantly drew them from
their hiding place and uanded them to
the detective. The latter turned them
over, one by one, his fingers lingering
long over the task. Then, with a half-
suppressed sigh, he handed them back
to their owner and watched that gen
tleman as he once more replaced them
in the secret compartment of tfte sec
retaire, and heard the sharp, metallic
click of the spring as it flew into posi
tion.
When this was done he asked to be
allowed to see the servants, and one
by one they were called Into the libra
ry. He said but little to them, however,
chiefly impressing upon them the neces
sity for silence on the subject of the
robbery, and dismissed them once more
to their respective duties. Then he
turned to Mr. Jay.
“Now,” he said briskly. "I think I
may confide to you the fact that my
investigations so far have not been
without their reward. To-morrow
morning I shall return and shall prob
ably require to again examine—and, if
may be necessary to photograph—the
notes still in your possession. I will
now bid you good-day, as there are
several things that need to be done
in the meantime.”
At half-past ten the following morn
ing there was a loud pealing of the
front door bell, and a few minutes later
a servant announced that two police
constables In uniform requested to see
Mr. Jay on a matter of sonsiderable
Importance. They were shown into the
library, and awkwardly touched their
helmets to the master of the. house.
They were typical country policemen—
thickset, stolid-looking individuals, who
might certainiy form part of the arm of
the law, but possessed no iota of its
brains.
“Are you Mr. Silas Jay?” inquired
one, in a slow, expressionless voice.
Mr. Jay admitted that such was the
case.
“Well,” explained the constable
“we’re in search, of a feller who’s |
wanted up in Brummagem for a little I
lob o’ ’ousebreakin’. From Information i
received’’—he coughed to emphasize the i
professional phrase—“we know he’s in I
this district, and we are hinformed that
a man answerin’ to his description was !
seen a-comin’ into your ’ouse yester- |
day afternoon.’’
Silas Jay turned pale as a horrible ;
suspicion crossed his mind. With a
quick movement he pressed the secret
spring of his secretaire, and a sigh of
unutterable relief escaped his lips as
he beheld the precious bank notes lying
safely within their ingenious hiding
place. Then, closing the compartment,
he turned abruptly to the constables,
who were watching him in evident curi
osity, and said:
"He promised to be here at eleven
this morning, and iw barely wants a
quarter to that now'.’’
Instantly the men w’ere on their feet, j
“I wonder if he’ll come?” said one.
“If he does," replied the other, “we’ve
got ’lm, and then we’re safe for a
stripe or two.”
Eluded.
Simultaneously they moved to the
window and stood looking out down
the gravel paths that skirted the lawn
and across the tall gates that led on
the road. As for Silas Jay he was too
bewildered even to think coherently and
sat, with his chin resting on his hands,
staring straight before him. An ex
clamation from one of the constables
roused him.
“Here ’e is!” exclaimed the man.
Mr. Jay leaped* to his feet and ran
to the window. At the same instant a
man who had just turned In at the
gate came to a standstill and glanced
irresolutely in the direction of the
house.
"You infernal fools!” exclaimed Mr.
Jay, with all his old disgust for the
police returning in full force. "The
fellow has seen your confounded uni
forms through the window and has
taken the alarm!”
It certainly looked as If this was
actually the case, for at that instant
the man turned and swiftly retreated
through the gates and out on to the
road, where he was immediately lost
to view behind the tall hedge which
shut in the lawn. With a smothered
oath, Silas Jay threw up the widow,
and, climbing out as quickly as his age
would allow, started in hot pursuit.
One of the constables followed his ex
ample, and, being a younger man, soon
outstripped Mr. Jay.
When the latter reached the gate and
looked down the road he beheld the
bogus detective far away in the dis
tance, speeding along through a cloud
of dust, mounted on a bicycle He was
f retting up a good pace, and, upon see-
ng Mr. Jay, waved his hand in token
of his determination to catch the now
rapidly disappearing thief. When Mr.
Jay returned to the house he found that
the other policeman had *nk^n himself
off.
The next day he was so restless that
he could bear the house no longer, so
he determined, as there was nothing to
hinder him from doing so, to take the
hundred $500 notes into Windsor and
there deposit them in one of the local
banks. He touched thfc concealed
spring of his secretaire and the secret
compartment flew noiselessly open. And
then, wiih a wild cry, he staggered
back against the wall and fell In a heap
upon the floor. The bank notes were
gone!
As soon as he recovered he rushed
into Windsor and wired to Scotland
Yard, and the chief sent me down to
Investigate. Both detective and his con
federates, the country constables, were
unknown—in that capacity, at least—to
the authorities. When I communicated
this information to Mr. Silas Jay I
thought he would have a fit.
"What are you going to do?” he
asked.
“I am afraid,” I said, "there is but
little left for me to do. I have been
to the bank, and find that, owing to
the ridiculous discussion which took
place, the manager, in handing you the
notes, omitted the customary precau
tion of taking down their numbers. All
we can do, therefore, is to endeavor
to trace the criminals by means of their
description. But this is a tedious pro
cess, and not always crowned with suc
cess.”
He handed me the card which the
bogus detective had given him.
“An alias, I suppose,” I said. “And
Walter Craft is not an inappropriate
name for one of his calling.’’
A gleam of something like self-con
tempt shone in the old man’s eyes.
“Scarcely as appropriate as my own.”
he exclaimed savagely, “for if any man
richly deserve the name of Jay, I am
certainly he!”
Beauty Secrets of Beautiful Women j BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
One of the Greatest Mystery Stories
Ever Written
Happiness the Real Secret, Says One of the Stage's Prettiest Girls
By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN.
“Being happy is the se
cret of being well, looking
well and feeling well.”
This is Miss Lois Joseph
ine’s recipe for obtaining
and maintaining a beautiful
face and figure.
(Copyright,
1913, by Anna Katharine
Green.)
AM determined to be happy,”
said Lois Josephine to me,
smiling the while with the
wistful sweetness that is the
heritage of Irish blood. “I think that
being happy Is the secret of being well,
and doing your work well, and looking
well, and feeling well! Well, with all
these wells to be acquired, my search
for happiness is going to be untiring.”
“Just how does one *go about being
happy—deliberately happy?’’ I asked.
The blue-bird of happiness is an elu
sive-winged creature, and even when
he Is found at last at your own fireside
he flies away as you clasp him in the
welcoming circle of your hands.
“To be happy,” answered Miss Jo
sephine, with a tiny shadow of a smile
that ought to lure happiness right to
her side, never to depart, “to be happy,
you like all the things you have to do,
you trust your friends, you love all the
beauty of nature around you—and you
avoid unnecessary contact with tasks
that you can not teach yourself to like.
Oh, truly, I think that if you are happy
you will be healthy and wealthy and
wise and—and, yes, beautiful!”
Now, Miss Josephine is the Sunshine
Girl in “The Passing Show of 1913” up
at the Winter Garden in New York, and
most charmingly does she and her part
ner, ‘Wellington Cross, dispense gayety
and sunshine as they dance their “joy
of living” steps for you. Perhaps it is
here that Miss Josephine found her in
spiration to be a sunshiny girl in every
day life, but to be happy seems to me
to be a most excellent way to acquire
beauty.
Her Program.
“I am going to be so happy and con
tented with life that I will just natur
ally attract sunshine instead of shad
ow',” went on the dainty girl whose
picture delights you to-day. “I am
going to be so pleased with my life and
w’ork that my expression can never be
bitter or discontented, but instead must
be sweet and friendly.
“Bitterness, discontent, envy, worry,
anger, malice—I am going to banish
them from my mind more and more
earnestly as I get more and more power
pursue a search for happiness. If
vnly girls knew what foes to beauty
Miss Lois Josephine in two poses.
these evil feelings were they would
all join me in a happiness hunt and get
such sweet expressions that every one
would be exclaiming: ‘Well, I declare,
if Mamie Jones isn’t getting to be a
beauty—she has the most attractive ex
pression!’ "
Suddenly Mise Josephine trilled out a
merry laugh.
“Want to see one practical detail of
my hunt for happiness? Well, I am
making my feet happy, too! I wear flat-
soled tennis shoes with buck instead
of tennis soles, since rubber draws the
feet, and so rest and relax the muscles
and tendons of my feet. Narrow, tight,
high-heeled shoes do not make your
feet comfortable; they actually hurt
your health, and they do great harm to
the serenity of your face. You know
the desperate expression you often see
on the face of a girl whose shoes are
too tight or are pitching her forward,
with the strain coming heavily on al
ready tired muscles. Well, an expres
sion like that may carve Its way In
ugly lines right into a face. So I recom
mend making your feet happy If you
want your face to look happy!
Ventral Courtesy.
“I am very polite to my digestion. I
don’t ask Its overtaxed organs to han
dle heavy meats and rich sauces all
through the hot summer. Instead, I eat
vegetables and salads and the light*
meats, and give my system tonic food,
instead of task food, in summer. An
ideal summer program 1b to have meat
on your dinner menu only two'or three
times a week. For instance: Chicken
on Sunday, steak on Tuesday, lamb on
Thursday, fish on Friday, and on the
other three days try soup and a few
extra vegetables for your dinner. Sim
ple menus will give your ‘digejjtery’ a
rested, happy feeling that will tell in a
happy, rested-looking face.
“If you like It as well as I do, you
will be delighted to drink three glasses
of buttermilk during the day, and on
rising and on retiring you will enjoy a
bit of watercress with salt. Fine tonics
for the system—both of these. Then
to make your skin and muscles rejoice
in the general prosperity, try a morn
ing and evening rub with equal parts
of alcohol and witch hazel. That will
add a fine glow to the general beauty
dealing feeling of happiness you want to
| acquire. Oh, it is great fun working
out a system whereby you will acquire
happiness and all its attendant bless
ings of beauty and health and power
to advance In the world.”
As we left Miss Josephine’s pretty
home on a cross street, just west of
Broadway, a friend called to the lit
tie blue linen-suited figure: “Hello,
little bluebird!’!’ And the bluebird is
for happiness, you know.
LILIAN LAUFERTY.
Its Virtue.
President A. Lawrence Lowell, of
Harvard, said at a dinner in his honor
in Chicago:
“Early marlages are the best. It is
neither good for the man nor for the
community that he should wait until
he Is 28 years old before marrying.’
President Lowell paused a moment
and then, smiling, he continued;
“Another trouble about late marriages
Is that the man’s habits—hls bad hab
its—are formed, and it’s hard, to break
him of them. You know, perhaps, the
story of the cigarette?
“A man of the old fashioned ‘manly
man’ type—the soft, full-stomached type
that drinks too much, belongs to too
many lodges, and must be superior to
woman in everything—this man took
umbrage over his wife’s cigarette, the
one modest cigarette that she took after
dinner, though he, of course, smoked
like a chimney all day long. And so
he said, one evening:
“ ‘I believe you think more of that
nasty, poisonous cigarette than you do
of me, your husband.’
” ‘Well, dear,’ his wife replied, smil
ing and blowing a cloud, ‘I can keep my
cigarette, you know, from going out.’ ’
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
“Mldred Farley was a dressmaker,*•
this gentleman went on. “If you read
the newspapers you know that, and also
know that she worked hard at her du
ties for some weeks before her death.
But what is very strange in her con
nection, and, together with some other
reasons unnecessary to state here makes
it difficult for the police to settle down
to the belief that her death was the sim
ple suicide it at first seemed, is that
no one has succeeded In discovering for
whom she worked, and to what home
she carried the various dresses she fin
ished in that time. For though it may
not be material to know this, and may
not help the affair forward one Jot to
ward Its rightful issue, yet because it is
a mystery and an unsolved one, those
whose business ft is to see every doubt
ful case made clear, have sent me to
this house to see if some light can not
be thrown by you upon it.”
He paused and looked at Genevieve,
She at once raised her eyes and sur
veyed him steadily.
"You think, then, that I knew Mil
dred Farley?’ was her question, clearly
and coldly uttered.
At Loggerheads.
“Did you not?” he inquired.
Her lips broke into a smile. “Ask
Dr. Cameron.” she suggested, and
seemed to think she had answered his
question.
Their visitor glanced at the doctor,
met only a dubious shake of the head,
and continued In a more formal tone.
“If you did not know Miss Farley,
it Is strange she should have made
the dresses of your trousseau, Mrs.
Cameron."
‘‘I don't understand you.” was that
lady’s reply. "My dresses were made
by any one hut that girl. This I can
assure you most positively, sir.”
“You can. We are then brought
round to my first question: who was
it that did make your dresses, Mrs.
Cameron ?”
It was smilingly said, but It caused
her to flush with great Indignation.
“Is it necessary that I should tell
you?” she somewhat haughtily inquir
ed.
“If you do not, I cannot prevent cer
tain people I know from thinking it
was Mildred Farley.”
“And why?” Dr. Cameron now broke
in. “What reasons have they or any
one to connect my wife with that poor
unfortunate ?’’
"Only a very material one which I
leave to Mrs. Cameron to explain. In
the room of that dead girl were found
scraps and ends of silk and velvet,
which were preserved by the police as
pieces of the goods she had been late
ly making up into dresses Among
these was a morsel of trimming—here
it Is—and as this trimming or some
Just like It was seen by chance upon
a dress worn by Mrs. Cameron, it
struck one of our agents that she was
in all probability the lady who had
profited by this poor girl’s handiwork.”
"The conclusion of a man!” ex
claimed Mrs. Cameron, with chill sar
casm. “I suppose there are in this
city to-day. twenty ladies with Just
that trimming on their gowns.”
"And with this gray velvet for a
dress? And thia—I do not know how
to call it—for another? And this soft
white silk so suitable for a bride’s
adorning, and”
“Enough, enough,” cried Mrs. Cam
eron, putting up her hands merrily as
a half dozen samples of various goods
and colors fell in a shower into her
lap. “I own to these, but I do not
own to Mildred Farley. You waste
your time; you will never find that she
did any sewing for me. however she j
came into possession of these pieces "
And with a half careless, half disdain- .
ful smile, she flirted the bits aside, j
looking so imperious and so charming. I
that for a moment her visitor seemed a j
trifle abashed and half rose as if to
go. "You see if I had anything to tell.
I would,” she murmured, graciously |
“But I have not. I cannot explain any ‘
more than you how these samples from
my dresses ’ should have been found '
where they were. I can only look at
them and wonder. Is that enough. 1
sir?”
“Hardly,” hls look seemed to say.
but he rose. “And you will not tell t
me where your dresses were made?” !
he smiled.
She shook her head, laughed and
rose with an arch air.
The Back Porch.
“It is a secret I have kept even
from my husband, but if you must have
it, you must. And rising oif tiptoe with
a look of merry defiance at the doctor, i
she whispered something in the vis
itor’s ear.
He listened, stared at her a mo
ment and broke into a genial laugh
“And so this Is your secret,” he
cried. “Well, I know how to respect
the secrets of a lady when such re
spect does not Interfere with my duty.”
And with a gallant bow he took his
leave, expressing the hope that he
had not made his call to lengthy.
After he was gone Dr. Cameron turn
ed to hls wife.
“And what did you whisper In that
big man’s ear to calm him so sud
denly?”
“Ah, you want to know my secret
too," she laughed. "Well, I told him
that the work which has been so much
admired had been done by no woman
That in my vanity and desire for
originality I had had the poor taste to
employ a man, and that I was secretly
ushamed of it.”
"She told you that?” cried Mr. Gryce.
“And you believed here? Humph!”
“She spoke the truth,” asserted his
companion—the gentleman whose name
we purposely suppressed in the last
chapter.”
"You think so?”
“I do. There was something in her
tone. Whisper though it was, which
brought conviction. I do not question
her word in the least.”
“Well, we will see; I did not hear
her and so may be pardoned for hav
ing my doubts. I will talk with you
again, sir. The play may not be
worth the candle, and It may; a few
days more will determine.’’
"And Molesworth?”
“Is very well as he is.”
This conversation, fragmentary
though It is, will show something of
the stand which Mr. Gryce was taking
in this matter. He had Molesworth
under his eye and as good as under
arrest, and yet he was not satisfied.
Something—was it instinct or experi
ence?—told him that this affair pos
sessed complications of no ordinary na
ture, and that to a conscientious man
like himself therq were doubts to be
solved and possibilities to be sounded,
before he would dare proceed against
the doctor as against a presumably
guilty man.
But with the kindred remembrance
of what the woman in Mrs. Olney’s
boarding house had said about Mil
dred Farley’s frequent comings and
goings with her great box, he did not
consider it so foolish now, and only
wished he had probed the subject deep
er at the time. It was not so late yet,
however, but that proper inquiries in
the right places would settle the ques
tion as to whether these two girls were
the same. He had only to pass a word
or two with the complaisant butler at
Mr. Gretorex’s house, to learn enough
to have the laugh, to say the least, on
his somewhat credulous superior. To
Mr. Gretorex’s house he therefore went,
and to Mr. Gretorex’s butler he at
once addressed himself.
He found this person quite ready
to talk in his easy, French way.
The Butler.
“Zat girl? I—none of ze help know
somezlng bout zat girl, only Mees Gre-
torox always was at home when she
come. A veil for ze face? Oul, so zick
you no can see If she was black or
white. But she was ver pretty—look
good, Sacre! She walk good—proud
like a comtesse. She no look at me.
One time Pierre try, I try to speak
wlz her. It was no good. If she was
much deaf she do Just so; for she
look not to me, she look not to Pierre.”
“You're right. Count,” laughed «
voice over their shoulders, “and one
of us ain’t a bad looking man, either.”
It was Peter, who liked a bit of gos
sip as well as hls neighbor, and who
now came forward smiling.
“I feel ze compliment, M. Pierre, and
it is ver much good for you to say so,”
retorted the “Count” with a grandiose
tow. “It is ze opinion of ze ladies in
ze house.”
The butler then winked slyty at
Gryce, and satisfied that he had effect
ually discomfited the footman, pro
ceeded to put questions to the detective
as to his reasons for the Interest he
showed in this girl, which that func
tionary had wit and experience enough
to successfully parry.
Peter helped him; for Peter was a
rival of the butler’s in more than one
field, and in hls good-natured way in
variably took part against him In any
controversy, and it was from Peter that
Mr. Gryce finally got the acknowledg
ment that this young woman, or lady,
as he persisted in calling her, usually
wore a long, black ulster and made her
appearance in the evening.
Now this was satisfactory. In the
loset of Mildred Farley at Mrs. Olney’s
house there was a long, black ulster,
and she. as we know, was accustomed
to take her work home evenings.
"But she didn’t have the ulster on the
last time she came, oh, no,” continued
Peter. ”1 don’t know what it was made
the difference, but she looked foine. O,
now! well I’m tellin’ ye I wouldn’t have
known her at all, "at all, but for her
ould brown veil anc^ little handbag.
Them wur the same as before and so
was the air of her. Not a word nor
the dlvil of a look for one of us; but
being the night o’ the wedding, she got
out o’ me head, for sure I had enough
else to moind.”
Her Handbag.
This last admission was a surprise,
but Mr. Gryce was accustomed to sur
prises, so he Kept quite still; the more
so that he saw the butler was about to
speak, and he always preferred to glean
his facts through the questions of other
people rather than hls own.
“Zat girl here on Miss Gretorex’s wed
ding night? I zink you was mistake,
Pierre,’’
"Mistaken is it I am! when these two
hands let her in meself at the back
door. It wasn’t only here she was, but
it’s helpin’ Miss Gretorex to dress she
was, and divil a minute she had to
spare, alther. being Just in the nick of
time to be of any help at all, at all, to
her. I didn't see her leave, though.”
Mr. Gryce felt his Interest cool. Rea
son told him how improbable H was that
* hls person with all her mysteries, could
have been the runaway bride of Julius
Molesworth. Even if this house had not
been miles distant from the C Ho
tel where he had himself seen her at 7
o’clock of that same night, the great
improbability of her fleeing from her
own nuptials to assist in this very hum
ble capacity at those of another, was
too manifest for his consideration even.
Yet because habit was strong in him
and habit forbade him to leave a sub
ject till he had exhausted It, he put in
a word which he thought must settle
the matter.
To Be Continued To-morrow.
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Send for Catalogue and Price List.
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| 14 Whitehall 8t. ATLANTA. GA.
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In tE~ Great North Woods
and Beautiful Lake Country
of Wisconsin, Minnesota and Northern Michigan
(J There are hundreds of delightful outing places
located on the direct lines of the Chicago and
North Western Railway, any one of which
is ideal for “week-end” or summer vacation
outings.
<J The Great North Woods where the air is keen and
tingling with the scent of the pine trees and a thousand
sparkling lakes and swift flowing trout streams teem
ing with gamy fish can be reached comfortably in a
night’s ride.
<3 You can dine on the train, sleep in comfort in a luxu
rious sleeper and roll out in time for a crisp country
breakfast in the exuberant North Country.
Special Summer Train Service to this Reeort Country
via the Chicago and North Weitem Line.
The Fisherman'* Special, consisting of through Pullman
sleeping cars and coaches, leaves the new Passenger Terminai daily
6:00 p. m. for Rhinelander, Tomahawk Lake, Woodruff, Lac du
Flambeau, Powell, Manltowlsh, Mercer, and at 6:00 p. m. daily,
except Sunday, for Three Lakes, Eagle River, Conover, F lelps. State
Line, Watcrsmeet, Cisco Lake, Gogebic and interned ate points.
Make Your Reservations Early
For descriptive literature, fares, reservations and
full particulars apply to ticket agents or address
Chicago and
North Western Railway
H. M. BREEZE. G. A.
434 Walnut St., Cincinnati, Ohio
I