Atlanta Georgian. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, August 23, 1913, Image 4

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When Cupid Says—'“I Will Return” Bv NELL BRINKLEY BEHIND CLOSED DOORS One of the Greatest Mystery Stones Ever Written The Mistakes of Jennie By HAL C0PP -^ 1AN Being a Series of Chapters in the Life of a Southern Girl in the Big City Nell Brinkley Says B ESIDE you stretches a flannely bundle swathed like a small mummy. Only the face that ornaments the top of the bundle is not the black and gold, slant-eyed, baffling face that gazes above the mummy ease. Here is a pink face, the color of crum pled, pale, pink roses, crumpled a bit like them, too, you must admit, topped on its smooth head with a marvelous tine down of feathery hair. It is your dear delight to caress with the laltn of your hand that exquisite golden fuzz. You like to hang above it, too—brood ing with dove’s eyes and cooing with dove’s voice. One slim hand bound about on its third finger with a golden ring rests and moves tenderly on the hard, shirted shoulder jf the man who sometimes comes to kneel teside the bed—to put his big chin on his bided fist and gaze and smile and whistle •soft at the tiny face of his baby girl. Your face bended down—his tilted up— you study and yearn over and incessantly watch the atom between you. Sometimes, then, you raise your eyes to look deep and long into one another's. Sometimes, then, you kiss and your hand steals closer about the man’s neck with the same curving, The Begum A Tragedy of the East cherishing line it has when you slip it be neath your baby’s head. And while you brood and wonder there is one who tiptoes over from the door, looks breathlessly at the blue-eyed, blossom- mouthed thing between you and then draws back with a smile. Sometimes in the man’s eyes dawns a look that signals he is aware in a dim fashion of the presence of that One. And be looks rather violent then—for a fa ther has a fashion of getting ferocious over the idea that Love must come some dim day to bis small baby girl. Under the blue curtain at the door Love turns and grins. “1 will be back,” he says, exulting, “in ANOTHER EIGIITEEEN YEARS! She doesn’t look like much material now. She has no hair to speak about, no teeth to smile with—no neck. Her cheeks fit right onto her shoulders. She has so little intellect that she is intensely amused for long hours with her ten toes! She makes bubbles with her mouth all day long. And murmurs and holds forth to herself in a language no lover could un derstand. BUT WAIT! I know these little atoms AND 1 WILL BE BACK IN EIGH TEEN YEARS!” nnllK Begum Allah Visaya, heavily I .veiled, left her house and stopped for a moment at the officers’ Casino. As she was about to mount the steps the sentry stopped her and asked her what she wanted. At the same time a messenger In red uni form came out of the door. “I want to speak to Captain Bon- aonby.” Then he asked: “What do you want to see the captain for? And who are you, anyway, to come here with such a demand?” At this moment the sentry was called away by an officer The lady took ten silver rupees from her bag, handed them to the messenger boy and said: “These are yours, if you will take me to the sahib.” The boy did not’ hesitate, hut led her into the house straight into the messroom of the non-commissioned officers, where he found the captain's Mohammedan servant, who announc ed h*r to his master. Captain Bonsonby was a Jovial Irishman, who hud been on the In dian frontier only a short time and who knew nothing of its many dan gers. He let her come In and re ceived her ip his most amiable man ner even before she had thrown back her veil and revealed that she wus a woman of wonderful beauty. The I and blushed again. with a smile. “I have only come to warn you.” “No, I never heard of the murder.” said the captain. ”1 have Just come here to Barren direct from England. I have been told many strange tales. Bift against whom do you want to warn me?” "Whom they have chosen for the deed I do not know. I only know that he comes from the same prov ince as the man who committed the last murder.” “And you can tell me nothing else? How do you happen to know any thing about the plot?” She blushed even deeper than be fore and whispered almost lnaudlbly: “A native officer named Mahoob All ” “I know him." Fearsome Thoughts. ” has found a snapshot I took of you as you rode post my house. He loves me, and Jealous as he is, he has sworn that you must die, and he has hired a native to kill you.” “And when is it going to happen?" “To-night at dinner.” He looked at her as If to see if she were mad, but her face convinced him that she knew what she was do ing. lie took her hand.” "Are you a friend of the English?” Not of all of them," she whispered captain offered her a chair and asked what he could do for her. She blushed, stammered and then said: A Warning. "Do you know, captain, that last year at this time an officer of youi regiment was murdered here by an orderly merely because he was a white man and everybody considers it an honor to kill a white man?” The captain looked at her insur prise. "Don’t lA afraid of me,” she said And “I thank you most heartily, your name?" "Begum Allah Visaya.” ”Oh, now I recognize you.” he ex claimed. "You live in the big house at Sarra-Zam Canal with the big fig trees in front.” A few moments later she left the building, heavily veiled as before. So he was to be murdered at the table in less than half an hour! That was' quite certain, and he thought Mahoob Ali capable of anything. But who was to murder him? And at what particular moment? He shuddered and asked himself what he had better do. If he stayed away from the dinner the murderer would strike him down some other time w'hen he was not prepared. He put his revolver into his coat pocket and went into the dining room. He looked sharp at the three na tive servants and ran his eyes over their clothing to see if any of them had any weapon concealed in it, but he could see nothing suspicious. During the meal he was unusually silent and watched every movement of the servants. , Ten times rather would he have galloped Into the Jaws of'death than sit in this dreadful sus pense. Suddenly his right hand sought the revolver. Had not the big fellow made a suspicious effort to take something out of the folds of his dress? He jumped to his feet. Everybody stared at him in surprise, but he had already caught the servant by the throat with his left hand while his right was breaking the wrist of the native in a grip of steel. A dagger dropped on the floor. “The guard!" the captain cried, and a moment later the man, pale as death, was led out of the room. Then the captain sat down and told his story without giving the name of the veiled woman. Everybody admired his calmness and courage. Late in the evening he started out to thank Allah Visaya. As he passed the caravan he met Mahoob All, who seemed very ill at ease to see the captain, but who saluted politely. Bonsonby had a strange feeling of uneasiness as he hurried on. He en tered Allah Visayu s house. Every thing was still as death and not a soul in sight. A Tragedy. He went upstairs and entered Allah Vlsaya’s room, which was flooded with moonlight. A zither was lying on the floor and next to it. her clothes covered with blood, lay Allah Visaya with a dagger in her heart. By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. (Copyright, 1913, by Anna Katharine Green.} TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. Dr. Cameron advanced. “Ah, I see," he observed. Thfe window opened on to the roof of a piazza. “This room has not been entered since that night,” resumed Mr. Gryce. “Yet this window, you observe, is unlocked. Now if any of the other windows open ing upon this roof were also unlocked, it would require only a little climbing for her to pass into the room adjoin- - ing and so by way of the hall to the back stairs.” “It Is so,” assented the doctor. “We may regard that matter as set tled, then,” proceeded Mr. Gryce. “But what is still to be decided Is why this veil of Miss Farley's, which I hold In my hand, should have been found by me under the heap of clothing at our feet. If Mrs. Cameron can explain this as easily a* I can the method of the girl’s departure, I shall be much obliged, for I own It seems Inexplicable to me.” Dr. Cameron turned and looked at his wife. She had not followed them Into the alcove but stood in the center of the main room, with her eyes fixed, not on him, but on the heap of clothing to | Which Mr. Gryce had pointed. An Explanation. “Do you hear, Genevieve?” he asked. "Mr. Gryce wants to know if you can account for this veil of Mildred Farley’s being found under this pile of cloth ing.” She tore her eyes from the spot where they were looking and fixed them upon him. “How does he know it was Mildred Farley’s veil? By the color? I had one of that same color myself. But let me see it; I can soon tell if it is mine or not.” She held out her hand. Mr. Gryce left the alcove and laid the veil In it. She gave it a cursory glance and tossed it baFk. “It is not mine," said she. “It must be hers. As for its being found where you say. there is nothing so strange about that. I was dressing and I want ed an article of clothing. I had diffi culty In finding it, and being nervous and in haste, I tore down half the dresses in my closet and flung them on the floor. When Mildred Farley came, she carried them into the alcove to get them out of the way. Her veil must have dropped off her hat as she stooped over them.” How simple! Dr. Cameron’s head rose In complete relief. Mrs. Gretorex ap peared satisfied and swept from the room: only Mrs. Cameron looked fa tigued, harassed and half Indignant The detective saw It, but allowed him self to put one more question. “And was the light gray veil which was found on Miss Farley, yours?” “I do not know. I bought so many things! about that time tTiat I can not remember what I had. I only know I found no suitable veil when I came to put on my hat." There was no more to be said. Mr. Gryce again thanked her for her kind ness and politely took his departure. He had no sooner left the house than Mrs. Cameron sought her mother. “I came this morning to look over my things with you,” she declared. “But this man has so tired me with his end less questions that I am no longer fit for it. Won’t you take your own time and Just dispose of the things your self? I am sure T shall be perfectly satisfied with whatever you decide to do with them. I don’t seem to have any heart /or it.” And without waiting for a response, she took her husband’s arm and drew him down the stairs. "Shall I#ever make my peace with you?” she murmured. He smiled a happy smile. "We are too young to make mountains out of molehills. Since your sins are only those of an ordinary fashionable woman. I will try and forget them, es pecially as I have confidence you will never repeat what you know gives me pain.” She stopped at the foot of the stairs to kiss him. “O how I love you!” she murmured. "And how true and devoted wife I will be If you will only let me.” And her eyes gleamed and her face looked as If it had been dipped in dew. so bright was the change which his kind words made. As they stepped Into their carriage they saw the portly figure of Mr. Gryce disappearing around the corner. I A Sudden Release. T was evident that Julius Moles- worth must go to prison. If Mil dred Farley had been murdered, he was the man to whom her death was due. If she had not—but that was a question for the Grand Jury to deter mine; the duty of the police lay in ar resting him. To be sure, the case was not as strong against him as it had been against some criminals Mr. Gryce had known. But then a case of poison ing Is always more impenetrable than one in which the knife or pistol Is used; for whereas the wound made by knife or bullet usually tells Its own tale and determines either by its direction or character the all-important question as to whether or no the death was self- inflicted. poison keeps its own secrets, and only by the surrounding circum stances can we judge whether the vic tim raised the glass to his own lips or had it forced upon him by another. But here were circumstances of a direct and telling nature which pointed to murder; for upon what other theory than a skillfully premeditated plan to conceal his crime can we account for the story told by Dr. Molesworth of his finding the girl in a dying condition on a certain stoop, when the real facts of the case show that she perished in his phaeton and that the bottle was flung out and broken on the sidewalk merely to give color to the statement he intended to make? Only a coward of the basest stamp or a man conscious of being subject to the law would re sort to such a lie and such an action; and Dr. Molesworth had no appearance of being a coward. On the contrary, he had every sign of being a deep thinking. strong-acting and self-reliant man. To prison, therefore, he must go. and without further delay; the explana tions given by the only other person who was known to talk with Mildred t night merely served to show the necessity of it. This conclusion reached, action im mediately followed., Mr. Gryce was sent to complete the arrest, and by 2 o’clock in the afternoon he and the doctor made their appearance at police headquarters on their way to the magistrate. But here a delay occurred. For no sooner had Mr. Gryce stepped through the doorway than a man grasped him by the arm and an eager voice whispered in his ear: “I’ve got her. She’s here. It’s been a hard chase for she is frightened about something and tried to keep out of the way. But I found her at last, and it only remains for you to make her talk.” Mr. Gryce’s pale cheek took on a little -color. Peering hastily about, his glance fell on the shrinking form of a young woman pressed up against the wall nearby. "That is all right,” he declared. And, turning to Dr. Molesworth. he informed him that he would have to give him up to other hands for a few minutes, as he had some important business to transact. Then he disappeared with the girl into the Inspector’s office. He was gone some time, and when he came back the girl was not with him. But the Inspector was, and it was he who stepped up to the doctor and in formed him that the suspicions against him had been proved unfounded and that he was at liberty to depart. In the Hospital. D R. CAMERON’S office offered a great contrast to that of Dr. Molesworth Instead of gloom there was cheer; instead of bareness there was a tasteful display of rich fur niture and valuable works of art. Yet the man sitting there possessed as strong a soul and held as firm a grip on his profession as his less self-indul gent and less prosperous rival. His prospects of success were brighter, too, for not only had he every advantage of wealth and station to assist him, but he had also that genius for plunging at a glance to the bottom of things which Molesworth lacked; the latter being forced to earn every step of his way by the severest study and the most intense mental effort. Dr. Cameron was meditating upon all this that same night, as he waited for his wife, when he was expecting home from an entertainment where he had been obliged to leave her in order to at tend an urgent case. He was medi tating upon it and thinking of her, for she mingled with all his thoughts now, as the perfume of a flower we have fas tened In our breast mingles with each breath that w© take. She was so fair, so tender, so baffling. There was such love in her look, such haunting music in her voice. He did not know that a woman’s glance and tone could affect him so. He had been surprised into love; and she who had performed this miracle was his own wife, the woman he was bound to love, cherish and sustain unto the end! The next morning Mrs. Cameron asked her husband if he had any patients on the East Side. FT© answered that he had a few. but that he mainly rSde over there to visit Dr. Molesworth’s pa tient at the hospital. “Who is doing well?” she Inquired. "Who is doing very well.” “Would you mind”—she spoke timid ly—"if i sometimes went with you when you go to visit the poor? I should like being with you and I should like to see the people you help.” “You would?” A new light visited his face. It had been a dream of his to have a wife who would take an interest in his work. “You shall go with me this very day,” said he, and hurried her upstairs to get ready. They drove to the hospital first. En tering the ward where Bridget Halloran lay. the woman whose case had been transferred to Dr. Cameron by Moles worth, they passed down through the two lines of cots, where Genevieve at a glance beheld more suffering than she had ever seen before in hr life, and came out Into that part ot the room de voted to the use of this special patient. As they did so. Dr. Cameron paused and so did Genevieve, for seated beside the poor woman was a man whose back, turned toward them, roused in both a strange feeling of surprise and bewilder ment. "la n •• S he whispered. But here the gentleman rose and turned. There was no longer reason for hesitation or doubt. The face and form were those of Dr. VI oles worth. Dr. Cameron stepped briskly forward. “This is an unexpected pleasure," said he. “How long ” But here he dis creetly paused and gave his sentence another turn, “have you been able to be oirt?” “Since yesterday,” was the brief re ply. Here he bowed to Mrs. Cameron. “You take an interest in our patient?” he remarked. “This is my first visit,” she replied. “I hope you are satisfied with her con dition.” Julius Molesworth let his grave gaze rest on the fair face of his interlocutor for a moment. Then he shook his head and answered: “The case is mysterious, and I do not altogether understand its secret work ings, but I hope all will go welL My greatest anxiety Is that no mistake is made behind my back. I do not allude to you, doctor, you know that, but to the woman. I shall, however, pursue undevlatingly the line I have marked out and I hope Dr. Cameron still agrees with me that' it is a wise one.” He looked at his coadjutor as he spoke, and that gentleman at once bowed. “She is doing well,” he remarked. “I do not seew how you can expect any thing more.” Dr. Moleswdrth smiled, and waved his hand toward the patient. "Have yoirr little talk with her?" he suggested; “the good woman misses it. She says you do so set her up with your bright looks.” And he stepped i.fside to another cot where he remaineo. for a few minutes, while Dr. Cameron and his wife talked to Bridget. But the moment they turned to go, he was back again, and. holding, out his hand to Mrs. Cameron, observed. “There are limita tions to all our self-sacrifices; though Dr. Cameron has done so well in my absence, I can not say that I am sorry to be at liberty again to take care oi my own patients." Asking if he might not help her home. CHAPTER XXVI. T OM finally prevailed on Jennie’s mother to ac cept the little money he had saved up and take Jennie with her and go down to the beach somewhere and have a good rest and fresh air. Tom told Jennie to try to "stick It out” at the place where she was working until the end of the week, when she got paid, as he was afraid the man she was working for would not pay her at all if she told him she was leavlilg at once. This Jen nie did, and Saturday, when she got her five dol lars, she didn’t say a word to the man about leav ing, for she was fearful of another “scene” like the one they had had before. Jennie and Tom went down to a little, Inexpen sive place at the beach to try to find a house for Jennie and her mother to live in, which they finally succeeded In doing. It was a cheap, cozy little place, that made Tom exclaim: “Jennie, girl, I wish this was OUR house and we were married and were just coming to spend our honeymoon.” But Jennie evaded the subject and talked of other things. After they got Jennie’s mother moved down which they did with a great deal of trouble, as Jen nie’s mother was very sick, Tom went back to town and work, saying he would be down whenever he could. That night Jennie went down to the small store to get some groceries and, coming back, dropped one of the packages, which a very handsome young man In a yachting suit picked up for her, asking if he might not help her home with her bundles. —HAL COFFMAN. (To Be Continued.) Animal Tragedies That Have Helped Science By GARRETT P. SERVISS. T HE photograph accompanying this article has a significance that does not appear on the surface. As you see it, it is the picture of half a dozen huge whales that have become stranded and have died in the shallow waters of Penzance Bay, England. It excites interest because of the great size and power of these creatures which be long to the animal species which pro duces the largest individuals that are now known to inhabit the earth. There have been larger animals than elephants on the land, but It Is thought that the ocean has never contained monsters su perior in size to the whales of to-day. The spectacle of a single stranded whale draws crowds of curious and wondering onlookers, but to see five or six of them that have perished together is a sight worth traveling far to look upon. But there Is a deeper source of Inter est in this scene than that awakened by the gigantic size and power of the vic tims of the accident that produced it. Those whales have been destroyed Just because they were too large and too heavy to get out of the labyrinth of sand spits among which a high tide had tempted them. That same kind of acci dent has been happening to the inhabit ants of this earth for milions of years, and but for such accidents we should have known far less than we do of the strange creatures that dwelt upon our planet ages ago. They May Exist. If the skeletons of those stranded whales were allowed to lie In Penzance Bay. undisturbed, becoming gradually buried deeper and deeper In the sand, they would In time become changed Into fossils, and then, a hundred thousand, or a million, years In the future some curious geologist of another age, when living whales had become extlnot. might dig them up, or suspend them, in mu seums as object lessons In the animal wonders of a long-past time. We do the same thing to-day. The most Interesting and gigantic fossils of extinct animals that our museums con tain would never have existed but for the occurrence of accidents similar to that which put an end to the lives of those whales In Penzance Bay. The great mastodons whose remains have been discovered in the United States, which they inhabited, perhaps, when the earliest men were Just begin ning to chip flints into the form of knives and arrow-heads were all mired in marshes, where they perished miserably because their weight sunk them deeper with every struggle. We do not find the remains of the thousands and thousands of mastodons that died a natural death, because they left their bodies where the regular processes of decay and dlsin-* tegration could rapidly dispose of them. There Is an animal of past time called the Iguanodon, a prodigious creature 25 feet long and 14 or 15 feet tall, which was evidently very common on the con tinent of Europe many millions of years ago. But huge as were the bones of the iguanodons, they have almost all disappeared except in places where the animals became the victims of accident which left them in such a situation that they could be rapidly covered up with sand, clay or mud, which, thickening and solidifying for ages gradually in cased them as in a preservative cement. A wonderful accident of this kind, mil lions of years ago. overwhelmed a whole herd of Iguanodons in that part of Eu rope which is now Belgium, near a place called Bernissart. It is believed from appearances that a tremendous storm. a cloudburst it may be, overtook them, and swept them, all together, into a deep ravine, where they were swiftly burled by inpouring mud, which after ward solidified Into rock. Then, while they lay there, the great Coal Age came on and made another deposit above their burial place. At last came man, dig ging for coal to burn, using his brains to revolutionize life on earth, and found the burled skeletons of such creatures as he had never seen, and read their story with his intelligence as dearly a most as if he had been present looklr on when that infinitely ancient stor swept the iguanodon herd to swift d< struction. A Death Trap. Mr. Pycraft, an English natnrmlli calls attention to what he calls most awful death trap In the world This exists fn California. It ts the ai phalt lake at Rancho la Brea. I For ages an unceasing series of an mal tragedies has been In progress c Its treacherous shores. Here, too, tl stories of the death struggles of the li numerable victims can be read. Bur animals as camels—camels In Callforn —came to the edge of the water to drlr and found themselves caught In tl sticky asphalt. Then saber-toothed t gers pursued them, seized their pre but. Instead’of carrying it triumphant: off, became themselves the victims . the black clinging slime. Wolves ar even eagles have been caught In tli trap, and are oaught there to-day. A Hint. “Oh, Mr. Muttonleigh, I’m so glad ’ have run across you, I am giving beach party next Monday evening and want you to come.” “Thank you, I shall be delighted.” “And wear clothes, please. The polii are becoming awfully particular.” Funeral Designs and Flowers FOR ALL OCCASIONS. Atlanta Floral Company 455 EAST FAIR STREET. KODAKS "The Beat Fin taint Knlnro- infl That Can Be PredMnd. Eaatman Film* and com plete stock amateur auppUea. ^ loe fw out-of-town customer*. Send for Catalog and Price Llet. A. K. HAWKES CO. •gg# 14 Whitehall St, Atlanta, Q*. Bs smm!, TOUISVILLE To Be Continued Monday, Lndleet A*k j < H|.fhe«.(er'd I’m* la Krd bo*e*. sealed wiu» Miu„ niuwg . . Take no other Bmy ofymmr V < ni.cincs.TZBw »IAMn\I* cm Ml PIl.Le.fcr** z esr * < nown ** Btst, S»fe*t, A1 w»ys Reliabi, SOLD BV DRUGGISTS EVERYWHFP5 m * THROUGH SLEEPERS HW LT.7:12AM„5:Uim