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RECONCILED
By ALMAZ STOUT.
Beauty Secrets of Beautiful Women
The “Don’t Worry" Recipe, and Hats as a Striking First Aid
A N elderly man was drawing on
a gray suede glove as he passed
through the hall of the great
London hotel known as the Astoria. He
nodded to the manager, who, In im
maculate frock coat, came forward to
speak to him.
“Glad to see you here again, Mr. Mer
ritt. It is some time since you patron
ized us.”
"Yes; been away, Weston, longer than
[ like. You’ve made several improve
ments since I was here, and not the least
of them is among the chambermaids.“
“Indeed, Mr. Merritt?” replied the ho
tel manager with a smile. "Well, that
hardly comes onto my department, you
know; the housekeeper is responsible
for them.”
“Well, she’s got jolly good taste, then!
I’ve seen no less than three pretty girls
already, and only came last night, and
one—the one on my landing—is a peach,
an absolute peach. Mr. Weston."
Weston laughed outright. Mr. Mer
ritt was an old customer, and whenever
he came to town put up at the Astoria.
He was perfectly harmles, really devoted
to his own wife and three daughters,
but it pleased him to rave about femi
nine beauty. Weston knew his litleweak-
ness, and on this occasion promised to
make a point of seeing the beauty who
made the beds and dusted the bed
rooms in the west corridor of the third
floor.
An Accident.
Just as Mr. Weston was sitting down
to his tea a message came down that
Mr. Langdon would be obliged if Mr.
Weston would go to his room, No. 314.
He found his new customer sitting in an
easy chair by the window of the private
sitting room he had taken, adjoining his
bedroom, with a bandage around his
head, and a fall, grave-loking man by
his side.
"Look here, Mr. Weston,” Mr. Lang
don said, "I’ve met with a bit of an ac
cident to-day and hurt my eyes rather
badly. It’s not bad enough to go to a
nursing home, and I don’t want a nurse,
but Dr. Jowett here says I must have
both eyes bandaged and keep quiet for
three or four days. Can you manage?"
"Certainly, certainly! There will be
no difficulty about that. We have some
very nice women on the staff, and I
am sure one of them will be only too
pleased to do what she can. I am very
sorry to hear of Mr. Langdon’s unfortu
nate accident.”
"Thank you, Mr. Weston, very much,"
Mr. Langdon answered. "I don’t ex
pect to be a nuisance more than three
or four days. I specially want to stay
here, as I have made one or two appoint
ments with men to see me here.
A few minutes later Mrs. Peterson, in
structed by Mr. Weston, sent for Alice
Smith, who was in charge of No. 314,
and told her of her new duties.
The girl listened, and went slowly
white.
A Plan.
“I am sorry,” she said at last, in a low
voice, “but I can’t do it."
Mrs. Peterson frowned. She was not
accustomed to being disobeyed by the
staff.
"You will either do it or take a week’s
notice. My servants do as I tell them,
and if you haven’t enough kind heart
to want to do what you can for a poor
gentleman, who can’t see, you ought to
be ashamed of yourself. Co upstairs
right now and see if there is anything
you can do Not another word."
In silence Alice walked away, and,
instead of obeying, went straight to her
own little cupboard of a room.
Suddenly she started up.
'Why not? Why shouldn’t she at least
try it? It was only for three or four
days, and ”
The next afternoon Alice Smith
knocked lightly at Mr. Langdon’s door.
She had been unable to get in in the
morning, as he did not get up until
after lunch, and said his bedroom could
be nut straight in the afternoon.
Receiving no answer, she went in, and
was about to begin her work, when
she heard voices coming clearly from
the next room. She saw that the door
leading from the bedroom was slightly
ajar. She hesitated for a moment. She
did not know whether to go in to close
the door, and so show there was some
one there. But a few words she caught
kept her motionless, as though glued to
the spot where she stood.
“Never mind that point. What I want
to know is, If I give her her freedom
will you give me your word of honor to
marry her and put her happiness be
fore all else in life?”
The words were spoken by Geoffrey
Langdon in a low, tense voice, which,
however, reached the ears of the rigid
listener in the other room.
“But you can’t do it," came the an
swer, in a drawling, faintly affected
voice. “She’s done nothing wrong.
You can’t divorce her.”
The Real Wrong.
"Hang you, man, who spoke of di
vorce? And I don’t need you or any
man to defend my wife. I know she’s
never done anything wrong, but I
have. I married her knowing she did
not care for me and knowing she’d miss
the excitement and gayety of the theat
rical life she was used to. I hated it.
I condemned and despised it and
wanted to save her from the dangers of
It, and I used her gratitude to me for
a* service I rendered her as th^ means
to take her from it and win her for
myself.
“Of course I got what I deserved. She
The best beauty secret, accord
ing to Miss Grace Kimball, is not
to worry—especially other peo
ple.
But Miss Kimball is also a
great believer in hats for im-
was bored to death with the life I of
fered her. She grew to hate me and the
monotony of the existence she led a«
my wife, after the gay, utvreless life she
was used to and loved. \ was a fool
and worse to have tried the experi
ment.
"I meant to save her from want and
sin and nearly drove her to it. She
loves you—she told me so with her own
lips—and if I hadn’t come along and
persuaded her, In a fit of gratitude which
she regretted the moment after, to come
to me she would have married you."
"Yes, Gay and I were. always good
pais it was a bitter blow* to me when I proving' natural beauty.
she deserted me for a rich man. But
how could I stand in her way? I was
only an artist, dependent on a fickle
public "
"I know all that," Langdon said
harshly, breaking In on the affected
voice. "The thing is, she cares for you
and hates me, and I stand in the way
of her happiness. If I set her free, will
you do your part?"
Alice Smith was still standing In the
middle of the room, her face the color
of her muslin apron and her hands
tightly clenched. What would the man
answer?
“Well,"—the affected voice had be
come resentful—"luck’s been against me
lately. I haven’t had as good engage
ments as ’’
"Oh, you needn’t fear the future from
a monetary point," I>angdon said scorn
fully. “I shall see to it that you both
have ample means. But I shall Bee the
money is settled on her so securely that
no one can make ducks and drakes of
it."
“Of course, that alters things. But I
I don’t see how you propose to set her
I free.”
“That’s my business,” Langdon an
swered peremptorily. “I suppose you
are gentleman enough to give me your
word of honor that you will never let
her know of this interview between us.”
Collapses.
The sound of a chair being pushed
back woke Alice Smith from the sort
of trance in which she had been stand
ing, and noiselessly she glided out of
the room and down the corridor to the
housemaids’ pantry. She felt suffocated,
and her heart was beating so wildly
that she felt sick. She put out her
hands to try to Beize something to
steady herself, for the whole world was
spinning round and round her, when,
with a little crash she fell heavily for
ward on her face.
Alice Smith was assisted to bed and
attended by the doctor who was called
in by Mr. Weston. She had bruised
and strained herself In her fall, and
her heart was in such a state that she
had to be kept perfectly quiet.
The next morning she slowly got up
and sat up In her room, though she
was forbidden to resume her work for a
day or two.
“And—and 314, how will he manage?”
“Oh. he’s got his bandages off now.
The doctor told him he could take them
off last night. So he doesn’t need any
one to wait on him specially. He’s
leaving early to-morrow morning."
“I see."
"You’d better go back to bed when
you’ve had your tea, and I’ll have your
supper sent up to you."
But after her tea, which she drank
feverishly, though she ate nothing, Alice
Smith slowly put on her cap and apron.
It was dinner hour when the majority
of those staying in the hotel would be
downstairs in the brilliantly lighted and
decorated restaurant.
She slowly walked down the back
staircase, taking a tight hold on the
banister, until she reached the third
floor.
The corridor was quite deserted, and
faintly from the dining room floor came
the strains of the orchestra playing an
extract from an opera.
A Shot.
She made her way along the western
wing until she reached the door of 314.
But an instant later she had pushed
the door wide open, and, all her nerv
ousness and trembling gone, was dash
ing like a mad thing across the room.
There was a flash and a report, a low
cry and a revolver fell with a clatter
to the floor.
There was a burning sensation In her
right hand as the bullet grazed it be
fore embedding itself In the wall of the
room. She turned to Langdon with
blazing eyes.
"What were you doing? Oh, how dare
you—how dare you?" she cried.
"r>iv!"
Ooeffrey Langdon was staring at the
tall, panting figure, his eyes almost
starting out of his leaden face.
"Yes, T; Gay, your wife! How dare
GREATEST STORY OF ITS
THE TUNNEL KIND SINCE JULES VERNE
(From the 0<»rra*n of Bernhard Kellermann--
Gorman »«r«1on. • fopyrluhtod 1»1». by *■
ris-her Verla*. Berlin. Lngliah translation and
foujyniatlcn by
"Then old Wittcrsteiner got in a
word and said that it was the biggest
thing that had ever come down the
pike—or something like that and ne
was for it if you could deliver the
plans and specifications Then An
drus took a fall out of him, and they
were all at it again when Helen—
Miss Lloyd chimed in. You ought to
have heard her!”
“Misti I.l'iyil!” cried Alisn an 1 the
ladv in the same breath.
"Sure! She. made a better speech
than you did—and that was some
speech. She told how her father felt
about it and how it looked to her,
and Kilgallan proposed three ohee.s
for her and thre< for you and ..a
many as you please for the tunnel,
and—bang!—it was all over!”
"You mean ” gasped Allan. He
| had suddenly turned dead white. Mn.
Allan slipped an arm around him and
Rives gripped his shoulders with
both hands.
“I mean,” he shouted with a merry
laugh, “that you arc to go ahead and
bore a rat hole through the earth!"
4> v
A
M.' $
I
Little Bobbie’s
Pa
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
Miss Grace Kimball in Two of Her Hats.
i < r T'' 1
1
SUCCESS IN MEDICINE
Good doctors succeed, and
imong them are the world’s great
est benefactors; poor doctors drop
)ut, as they should. Good pro
prietary medicines succeed, and
he homes of the masses are
Dlessed by them. Poor medicines
Irop out, as they should. The
\merican women are neither gulli-
)le or foolish, they recognize the
iralue of such standard remedies
m Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable
Compound, which for more than
50 years has been the standard
remedy for female ills and com
plies with all conditions of the
Pure Food and Drugs law.
,HE best beauty secret I know,"
said pretty, blonde Grace Kim
ball to me, as we took pos
session of Ned Wayburn’s office ar.d
prepared to assimilate a bit from an*'
contribute a bit to the atmosphere of
loveliness all about us at the Winter
Garden in New York—“the best beauty
secret I know is, don’t worry. But, if
worry you must, the next best thing is
don’t worry other people with your
worries.
"Nowadays, with the popular fancy
demanding youth, the woman who keeps
serene, or does a good imitation of it,
stands also a good chance of seeming
youthful. To he beautiful means to be
as youthful as possible—and here are
my rules:
"Don’t worry—other people.
"Cultivate a sense of humor and an
ability to relax.
“Study the hat question.
"Hats are so important, and in spite
of all the jokes about more careful se
lection being used in the case of hats
than that of husbands, the gentle art
of hatting is much neglected! Women
will insist on getting a hat like that
‘adorable dream’ Mrs. Nextdoor is wear
ing. or they buy the creation that
Madame Milliner has been trying to foist
on some one all season long. Getting
the right hat is an art—and in the study
that is illumined by honest, all-reveal
ing daylight. If you are a blonde de
mand a hat that has some clear color
note to accent your plae coloring. Per
sonally, I think a black velvet facing
is about the most wonderful back
ground for bringing out clear coloring,
and it is particularly kind in its treat
ment of blonde hair. A little up-tilted
hat will make you look perky an<] saucy.
A big, drooping affair will give you a
picturesque look. But beware of droop
ing hats if you are a short woman with
a neck on the same general lines.
Accents in Tone.
“I am very fond of clear black or
white or black and white combinations
for myself, and for all blondes I would
recommend the same. A facing to
match your eyes often accents their
color—decide whether that is desirable,
and if it is, cultivate a habit of putting
king’s blue over your cornflower blue
eyes, purple over your pansy orbs and
gold-brown over your sloe-berries.
"The soft, maline frillir.gs on the hats
of to-day soften almost any face. But
IT reddy, git reddy, sed Pa, we
are all going to a chicking roast.
Oh, Mercy, sed Ma, I haven’t a
thing to ware.
You doant have to put on a court
gown for this, sed I’a, this is going
to be a jolly afternoon & eevnlng. Put
on a shirt waist & a skirt, Pa sed.
DreHs like a human beeing. 1 aint going
Dress like a human beeing. I aint
going to doll up. sed Pa, neether
is little Bobbie. Chicking roasts is
vary informal affair^ nobody is dressed
much excep the chickings.
So Ma got reddy & we all went down
to Bob Hardie’s farm to the roast.
Bob asked me to git thare erly, seo
Pa, beekaus he knows I am a grate
hand for framing up these little af
fairs. Long yeers of open air life wen
I was a cow puncher, Pa sed, taught
me all the tricks of out door cooking,
<& Bob needs my help. I am going to
show him how to fix the sweet corn.
My unkel knew how to fix green corn
grate, sed Ma. I newer tasted better
green corn than the way he fixed It.
Yure unkel was a hobo, that is how
he lerned. Pa sed. I learned wen I was
roaming the range, out in the bound
less West.
My unkel wasent a hobo, & the only
way you ewer roamed the range, in
tlie boundless West was in a pullman
car, sed Ma. Fer hevings salk, Ma
sed, wen you get down thare to that
nice party doant try to tell a lot of
smart peepul what a wonder you have
been. It won’t go, sed Ma. & you will
appear ridiklus.
Then we calm to Mister Hardie’s
big farm & thare was a lot of nice
folks thare waiting for us.
Aha. sed Mister Hardle, here Is the
corn king, he is going to fix the green
corn for us. Stand aside, everybody,
“Ourselves First.”
T was daylight when Mrs. Allan,
heavy-eyed, but still smiling hap
pily, left her husband and hts
friend still going over the events of
the evening. Rives was brilliant as a
talker—as he wa f at everything else
he attempted—and he recited the
scene on the roof with a wealth of
humorous and dramatic detail. Mrs.
Allan laughed until she was weak
when he described the belated en
trance of old Mrs. Brown, the wealth
iest woman in the world, and told how
she had shrewdly questioned every
one concerned and offered to leave a
certified check for $10,000,000
“Dear old Mrs. Brown!’’ she mur-
mu red.
“It was the funniest thing you ever
saw,” declared Rives. "It regularly
knocked ’em out of their chairs. I
thought Ethel Lloyd was going «o
kiss iier.”
A faint shadow passed over Mrs.
Allan’s face as a gleam of eager In
terest sprang to her husband's eyes.
She went over and kissed him and
withdrew. Rives walked with her to
the door and held her hand for an in
stant. She looked back and her hus-
I band w r as already bent over a pile of
I telegrams.
“Good-night, John," she said soft
ly.
“Now, then, old man,” said Allan,
briskly, as Rives came hack to the ta
ble and lit a cigarette: “let’s get busy.
This is going to be the liveliest day
of our young careert ’’
"Who—me?” demanded Rives, with
a rueful smile; “I thought my chore
was about done.
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE
. The story opens with Rives, who Is In charge of the technical work-
< ings of the great tunnel from America to Germany, on one of the tunnel
) trains, with Baermann, an engineer, in charge of Main .Station No. 4. They
) are traveling at the rate of 118 miles an hour. Rives Is in love with
\ Maude Allan, wife of Mackendrtck Allan, whose mind first conceived the
l great tunnel scheme After going about 250 miles under the Atlantic Ocean
Rives gets out cf the train. Suddenly the tunnel seems to burst. There
is a frightful explosion. Men are flung to death and Rives is badly wounded.
Ho staggers through the blinding smoke, realizing that about 3,000 men
have prohaly perished. He and other survivors get to Station No. 4.
Rives finds Baermann holding at bay a wild mob of frantic men who want
to climb on a work train, somebody shoots Baermann, and the train slides out.
' The scene Is then changed to the roof of the Hotel Atlantic. The greatest
financiers of the country are gathered there at a summons from C. H.
Lloyd, "The Money King.” John Rives addresses them, and introduces Al
lan. Mrs. Allan and Maude Lloyd, daughter of the financier, are also pres
ent. Allan begins to speak.
Now Go On With the Story.
myself, though I shall probably want
your advice often enough. But what
I mean is the actual construction
work.”
Rives sat bolt upright and stared
at his friend.
"My clear Mac, the heat has gone
to your head.” he declared, pityingly.
Allan’s jaw set. “You won’t do it?"
“Old man,” said Rives, affectionate
ly, “I’d do anything in the world to
help you. But whatever gave you the
notion of casting me for that sort of
a role? I haven’t done any actual ex
ecutive work for pretty near fifteen
years. 1 never tackled anything out
side* of putting up a building. I'm not
an engineer.”
“If you were an engineer," returned
th« other, slowly and distinctly, “I
would never dream of putting you in
charge. I am going to send engineers
down to you by tho carload lot to do
what you tell them to do.”
“If I were only an engineer,” he
went on more strongly, “do you think
this plan of mine would ever have
gotten beyond a plan? Never in the
world! You and I both have to an
unusual extent what most men lack
in combination—nerve and imagina
tion. That’s why I’m putting this
through and why you’re the man to
help me.
“Somebody has to control fifty
thousand men living in a big city un
der his rule alone. He has got to see
that thesf, men Rink a twelve-mile
hole in the ground. There is no prec
edent for any stunt like this in the
world. No one can tell what to do
because no one has any way of know
ing what is going to come up. He has
got to have a quick imagination and
iron nerve—and you’ve got both of
these, Now, will you take It?”
Rives gave an embarrassed laugh.
A Promise.
"Well, I don’t see how I can refuse
after that speech, Mac,” he said.
more millions, potentially, than either
of us will ever need.”
“You interest me,” ^commented
Rives with irony.
"How much money can you raise—
to the last dollar—within the next
48 hours?”
“I don’t know—four—maybe five
millions.”
“Would you like to bet it on a 50
to 1 shot where you have no chance
to lose?”
Rives laughed. "It’s not sports
manlike, but I might be dragged
shrieking into it if it isn’t too open,
a violation of the penal code.”
“It’s a real estate option deal.”
“Hra! Proceed.”
“My dear chap, hasn’t it occurred^
to you what is going to happen
around the entrances to the tunnel!
In the first place, there will be at
least 50,000 workmen there. That
means that within a yea r there will
be four new cities in the world, each
with a population of from 200,000 to
5CE.OOO, and after that the population
will shoot up in bounds. My simple
little plan has all been laid out. When
these telegrams are received my
agents will use within the next two
days nearly every cent of the twenty
millions I have made out of allanit®
buying up options and taking titles
where that isn’t possible. I am going
to own the land on which these cities
will have to be built!”
“Good Lord!” breathed Rives, after*
a pause, as if to take in the details.-
”1 should say it was a sure 50-to-l-
shot!”
“Well, what do you think? Do you”
want to get In It?”
“Want to! You couldn't keep me
out. 1 can raise four millions with
out cramping myself too much.”
“Then.” said Allan quietly, picking
up a pencil. ‘I’ll extend the orders
just that much.”
Rives watched him in silence for a
minute or two. He was thinking
“What an orator was wasted when ,
you went In for steel fixin'a and slm- - ^ h ® 8ald ' 8olemn,y '
ilar vanities! I told you I’d stick, and
I’ll tackle anything you say. If I
pull a bloomer, it’s your fault. When
do I begin?”
“Right after breakfast.” Allan
Done!” snorted Allan, and then he 1 glanced at his watch,
grinned. “You promised to stick as \ “I have an appointment—old Wit
if you substitute for maline good taste | & let the noabel hero he the chef.
do anything so wicked, so awful >' ou have to So back to the foundation
you
as that?” She pointed with her left j
hand, which was trembling pitifully, to
the smoking revolver on the floor. Her
right hand she kept hidden behind her
back.
“ ‘Dare is a strange word to use to
me! But what are you doing here
dressed up like that?”
“T am a chambermaid here,” she
said, with a funny little smile. “I have
been working here for months."
"Then you didn’t go to America?"
"No. I—I— Oh. Geoff "
She swayed toward him and he
caught sight of her right hand.
“Good heavens!” he cried, as he saw
the blood dripping from it. "What
have I done?”
“Don’t go. please. Promise me. It
only wants bathing.’’
With strong, tender fingers he lifted
her hand, and realized it was only a
slight flesh wound, though the bleeding
was profuse, and hastily getting a
basin and sponge, he bathed it with
cold water, and wrapped her hand up in
a clean handkerchief.
“Geoff,” she said very quietly, “when
you go home to-morrow are you going j face you have just snatched for your-
to take me with you?” self from the talons of time and realize
There was a tense, throbbing silence. | that you don’t have to worry when it
“Oh. Geoff, can’t you see I love you | is such a simple and inexpensive mat-
with all my heart? And, oh, I want ter to keep your face young and color
ful and clear-skinned. Next, do your
hair in the simple, becoming fashion
for the hat, which is the face.
The Foundation.
“Suppose you tell me how to take a
bit of care of the foundation, so that
it may be as satisfactory a foundation
as possible, and then let us talk a bit
about the hat to crown it,” said I.
"Splendid," said Miss Kimball. "I
have a real beauty secret to impart
about faces! And about hats I am only
airing my theories.
“Now, here is the secret. Whenever
you are tired, or whenever you have
half an hour to spare and a desire to
improve your skin and facial contour to
the utmost, here is what you must do:
Make a paste of fullers’ earth moist
ened with water and benzoin, spread
this masklike over your face and leave
It on for fifteen minutes; then remove
the mask with hot water—by the way,
this is as near as hot water ever comes
to the skin of my face—next rub your
face briskly with a piece of ice.
"Gaze for a moment with satisfac
tion on the clear, wrinkleless glowing
you so:
And then with a little cry, he caught
her close to his breast, and as his lips
found hers, he entered into his king-
that my predecessors in the beauty in
terviews have schooled you to affect
dom—the kingdom of love of the wife and effect—and now ail aboard for a
he loved sufficiently, to be willing tc hat.
lay down his life for her sake. I "Sit you down in front of a mirror
and an honest study of line, it is always
possible to find a hat that will soften
the face beneath it by throwing kindly
shadows in just the right places. Make
up your mind that your hat is not some
thing to set atop of your head as an
ornament, but is something to cover
your face.”
And as Miss Kimball gazes out at you
from the two pretty background hats
she has chosen, does not her little theory
sound to you well worth a bit of prac
tice?
—LILLIAN LAUFERTY.
Money Mine.
An Atlanta man recently got mar
ried and took a cottage, determined to
grow enough vegetables to keep the
household going. He started to dig up
the garden, and after an hour’s hard
work was astonished to find a silver
dollar at his feet.
Then he dug with renewed ardor.
Several pennies, a quarter and three
dimes rewarded his efforts.
"Blow! If this ain’t a gold mine!" he
said, digging away for all he was worth
"I wonder what I’ll find next?”
His arms ached, little beads of per
spiration trickled down his nose, and his
neck felt as though it was breaking. He
could stick it out no longer. He straight
ened his back at last with u groan ol
pain, and at the same Instant felt some
thing cold sliding down his leg. Jn a
moment he had grasped the truth.
There was a hole in his trousers pocket!
Explanation.
Man Passing—Your com is beautiful.
You haven’t been having rains out this
way, have you?
Farmer—No, wo haven’t; hut there
has been a good deal of perspiration on
it this summer.
Pa rolled up his sleeves & sed Ware is
the corn?
Rite thare neer the fire, sed the folks.
It is just dying to he roasted.
Then Pa got a shovel * beegan for
to dig a hole. After he had dug quite
a while, Ma sed Mercy, you are digging
it too deep. My unkel used to dig a
shallow hole. Anybody wud think you
was going to give tho poor corn a de
cent burial, Ma sed.
Who is fixing this corn, me or yure
unkel? sed Pa. & he kep on d’gging
After he had made a hole about three
feet deep he put In all the green t > <
after he had took off the husks.
You doant want to talk off the husks,
deerest luv, sed Ma. My unkel always
left the husks on so the dirt wuddent
git in between the kernels of corn.
But Pa did It his way, & then he
pulled a lot of coals oaver the place
ware the corn was buried. Now In
about half a hour the corn will be a
feast for a king, he sed.
I guess nobody beleeved It excep Pa,
& I doant think he was vary sure.
After half a hour Pa dug up one of the
eers of corn & it was jest as cold as
ice. The ground wasent eeven warm.
It may talk a other half hour, sed Pa.
But everything else will be spoiled by
then, sed the folks. Let us do without
the corn.
Oh, that wud newer do, sed Ma. The
com king wud he dredfully vexed if you
dident wait a few w'eeks for his com.
But we dident wait, & now Ma calls
Pa the corn king.
A Solution.
Johnny—Doctor, if I was to ask yoj j
whether It’s going to hurt or not.
would you tell me the truth about it?
Dentist—I certainly would, my boy,
Johnny—Then go ahead an - pull
without tellin’ me. |
long as I needed you, didn’t you?
“T did."
"Well, pal of mine, your little chore
has just begun. You're going to do
more hard work in the next ten years
than you would ordinarily have done
In ton lifetimes.”
"Ten years! He?" he ejaculated.
“My dear Mac, you are undoubtedly
the most wonderful man of this age.
hut overplay yourself. You may be
able to build so many tunnels that
the earth will cave in. but don't tackle
anything beyond vour size, ldven you
couldn't make me work for ten years."
The Tunnel.
“I won't," returned the engineer
with strong emphasis on the pronoun.
“Well, I know I won’t,” smiled
Rives, “so what's the answer?”
“The tunnel!”
The look and the tone caused Hives
to gaze at his friend curiously and in
silence for a few moments. So Pe
ter the Hermit might have spoken
tho name of Zion to a laggard Cru
sader. For the first time Rives real
ized what this project meant to his
friend in a subjective sense. Aside
from fame and wealth and worldly
credit, Allan’s vision had become his
religion. Henceforth he would meas
ure all things in the earth and air
and the waters under the earth by
their attitude toward and hearing on
this one purpose of his life. Every
thing within hijn and around must
henceforth be subservient to one pur
pose. His eyes, as he fixed them on
his friend and awaited his answer,
burned with passionate zeal, or the
light of monomania, according to
your leaning toward poetry or science.
A great architect, the man who had
founded the school of beauty in
America’s monster buildings, Rives
was both a poet and a scientist. So
while his imagination drew him to
ward the wondrous vision, his deli
cately adjusted judgment urged him
away from the zealot who was to
drive it through.
In the end it was the artist’s side
of him that conquered, as Allan had
known it would. But his tone was as
light as ever when he spoke.
“Well, I suppose you’d have me ar
rested and haled before a sanity
hoard if I refused to take an active
interest In your burrowing. You’re
sure you want me?”
“You bet I am?” wag the fervent
response. And they gripped hands
across the table and smiled.
"Now, then—what do you think you
want me to do?” inquired Rives. "As
an architect in good standing 1 might
design the tool sheds and dormito
ries for your unwashed workers, but
beyond that I don’t see where I fit
in.”
“You can do that while you’re rest
ing,” chuckled Allan. “I’m not hiring
you as an architect, though I shall
probably want you to lay out a few
cities in your lunch hour.”
“Then,” decided Rives, “I can only
suppose that you want me to bring
my evening clothes and guitar and
lend social charm to your construc
tion camps.”
tersteiner—for 9 o’clock this evening,
but I fancy It won’t keep me long.
Then I’ll be at your disposal—for the
next ten years.”
"What does he want?” asked Allan,
keenly.
“That’s what I want to find out.
Probably after some inside informa
tion, and he thinks he can get it from
me better than from you.”
“Well, you haven’t any Inside in
formation—yet. But you're going to
have some before you go."
“Want me to look over some plans?”
"No! I have told you twice that
you ceased to be an architect when
you came down here last night.
Plans! Why, old man, do you know
that by tho time you have ripped the
cover off the earth flown there in
Jersey every plate and bolt, and rivet
in that tunnel will be accounted for
on blueprint?”
"Hm! I can see some trouble ahead
for some draughtsmen,” mused Rives.
Well, let’s have 1t.”
Allan looked at the dllletante quiz
zically. \
"You haven’t asked about your pay,
Jack,” he remarked. Rives waved his
hand.
A Clever Scheme.
“Never mind! I’ll get enough pay
in credit out of this Job. With my
well-known gifts fdr the limelight 1
shall soak up most of the glory that’s
coming to you. In the meantime,
Providence has not been unkind to
me, so I will have to shake you down
for only a nominal salary.”
"How would you like to pay your
self?” Inquired Allan.
"That’s what I have Just been out
lining to you.”
“But I mean—cash!”
This was said earnestly. Mutely
Rives asked for details. The engi
neer’s hand dropped on a pile of tele
grams.
"See these? Well, these represent
Funeral Designs and Flowers
FOR ALL OCCASIONS.
Atlanta Floral Company
455 EAST FAIR STREET.
“N
OT exactly that,
smiled the other.
either,”
“I merely
want you to take general
charge of the work on this side; of the
water.”
“The office work?”
‘“No, no! I told you to forget that
you were an architect. Th e financial
campaign I will have to look out for
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rw j ......j, at last,
I don t think I ever before got the
real Idea of hotv big this thing Is.
Here we are going to shake a few
hundred millions out of ft and never
get nearer than the outskirts of the
real profits. It—it comes prettv near
being TOO big! I'm thinking'about
the Tower of Babel, and—Mac, it
almost scares me!"
By the time Rives started down
town that evening to keep his ap
pointment with Mr. Wlttersteiner at
the Park Club the civilised world
was In a ferment. Columbus Circle,
widened to twice Its old size and
covered In, cooled and ventilated,
against the terrific heat of the day,
was a bedlam. Here the new Stock
Exchange bulldlr- thrust Its head
up among the St*. . towering even
above the plno* *e of the mighty
newspaper plants.
A new phrase was on ever./ lip:
‘‘Atlantic Tunnel Syndicate!”
Brokers in shirt sleeves and hat-
less, cigars thrust Into the corners
of their mouths, stood on the curb
and watched the newspaper bulletins
and cinematograph pictures that
sketched out the vast outlines of the
Homeric plan. Hundreds clamored
for the extras that were belched
forth from a hundred presses in wet
piles of thousands, still limp and
inky-smelling.
And all about them the city
seethed. The thronged moving plat
forms underneath the streets that
slipped up and downtown in endless
chains carried streams of excited
thousands. Every news stand was
the center of a whirlpool, and tho
"Wall Street” coined watohword, “A.
T. S.,” was already famous. For
though It had long since moved from
that far-off fringe of the narrow,
island *he world of money was still
“Wall Street” to the outside world.
To Be Continued To-morrow.