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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 PERFECT HEALTH WOMAN’S CROWN OF GLORY Did you ever observe a woman who has reached the age of 60 or even 70 in perfect health and say to yourself. “I hope I may grow old as gracefully as she does?” In order to reach a love ly old age women should guard against woman’s diseases, as they are the greatest menace to joy and gladness. Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound is nature’s own remedy for organic derange ments, safe and certain. Nearly 40 years of success is a grand and peerless record for any one 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. KODAKS— First Claes Finishing and En larging. A oofnpJete stock films, plates, papers, chemicals, etc gpeciaJ Mail Order Department for out-of-town ouetomers. Send for Catalogue and Price List. A K. HAWKtS CO. Kodak Departm-i' | 14 Whitehall 8t. ATLANTA. GA. A Treat In TEA The finest selections from the world’s best markets are skilfully combined in Rich, Pure and Refreshing Maxwell House Blend TEA -TL. 1-Ih. / ir-Titfht % Cauisteis Auk your grocer for it Cheek-Ne%! Coffee Company, NaskviUo Houston Jacksouviflc 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