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. iaveBton. an of .drat tad tataabvt day for oar liat of Kvaafioai inwt aad mtauftr «irer». Patent, tacarad or oar fot rotrirard Fail," "How to Gef Your Ptlcai tad Y valuable booklet! teal fraa to lay addraaa n^SUiNDOLPIl&CO wi> P»lr«l 4(faraej^ 618 “F” Street, N. W.. THE TUNNEL Greatest Story of Its Kind Since Jules Verne September ■* By Nell Brinkley WHAT HAS CONE BEFORE The story opens with Rives, who s in charge of the technical work ings of the great tunnel from Amer.ia to Germany, on one of the tunnel trains, with Baermann, an engineer. In charge of Main Station No 4 'I hey are traveling at the rate of 118 miles an hour Ulves is In love with Maude Allan, wife of Mackendriok Allan, whose mind first conceived the great tunnel scheme After going about 2f*0 miles under the Atlantic Ocean Rives sets out of the train Suddenly the tunnel seems to hurst There is a frightful explosion Men are flung to death and Rives Is badly wounded. He staggers through the b inding moke, realizing that about 3,000 men have nr< bablv perished He ard 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 tram somebody shoots Baermann, and the train slides out. The scene Is then charged to the roof of the Hotel Atlantic The greatest financiers of the country are gathered there at a summons from C H. l.lc>d. "The Money Klr g " John Rives addresses them, and Introduces Al lan Mrs Allan and Maude Lloyd daughter of the financier are also pre« ent. Allan tells the company of his project for a tunnel 3 100 miles long The finapeFrx agree to back him Allan and Rives wart him to take charge of the actual work. Rives accepts Rives goes to the I’ark Club to meet Wlt- tersteiner. a financier At Columbus Cl rle news of the great project is be ng ! flashed on a screen Thousands are watching It Mrs. Allan becomes a lonely and neglected woman and '« much thrown in the company of Rives. .Sydney Wolf, the money power of two continents, plots against Allan and Ulves Mrs Allan has her suspicions aroused as to t * e frlerd«shlp between her husband arid Ethel I loyd Rives and Mrs Allan let the wine of love get to their heads and. before they know it, they confess their love for each other Tun nel City's Ini abitants learn something has gone wrong In the lower workings of the great bore An exp'oslon and fire have occurred In the tunnel, and when the workers hear of it definRely they become a raging mob. surging about the entrance of the bore Mrs A Ban Is warned rot t<> 'eave her home while the excMement i« at lie height. But she and her child go forth. They me t a meb of women frenzied by the disaster, who stone them to death. Rives was missing in the tunnel and AMan, h's wife, child, dearest friend and 5,000 other lives gone, gave In despair But he resolves to conquor not be subdued, by the great project. Gathering a relief train together he hurries Into the tunnel Near the end he co oes to a pile of dead bodies He finallv rescues Rives nearly dead After the disasier the tunnel workers, tn terror, strike and the great project \- stopped. Missing the stra'n of work, Allan's melancholy returns and he has‘ens to Europe After months of vvan- ! dering he returns and finds Ulves out of the hospital, but his memory badly affected Now Go On With the Story. (From the Ornrun of Bernhard Rellermann-— RfTiin <rr*:nn CnpyriithrU. IVM3. by ft PMdier Verla*. Berlin hngiiah translation an* "iimlat • n bt (Copyrighted. 1911. by International Sens SerrU*.) TO-DA Y S INSTALLMENT. “There Is something else I want to tell you, Mac,” Rives went on in the same tone. “About Maud. You know, she wasn’t very well pleased with you toward the last.” Allan met hit- glance and nodded slowly. This was the sane Rives. “You couldn’t help it,” he went on. “You didn’t undetstand her—and 1 did.” “You did?” exclaimed Allan. ‘ Yes—I did. You see, Mac, I loved her and you never really did love her. You couldn't love a woman like Maud the way she ought to he loved. Rut I'm still vour friend, Mac." Allan was white. The room was whirling around him. “But you—Maud?” he stammered. “Yes, she knew it. She told me— that night. But I’m still your friend, Mac. Maud tiled the next day and I’m —this! And—and—‘God reveals Him self In many way®!’ Good-night, old man." ♦ * ♦ * • The strike lasted all that summer, but toward the fall it began to show signs of breaking. Many of the men had come back to work, and str.ke- breakers were coming in from the great wheat country to the west, where the end of the harvest found many out of employment. The unions opened negotiations. The panic whs over and Allan was Just beginning to feel that ail of his trouble-*, were over for the time when a new and more menacing storm gathered over his bead. In the mighty and complex financial structure of the tunnel there was a faint but ominous crack ing. The sound of it reached Allan’s ears one morning that autumn when he was going over his mail In his New York office. It was about 10 o’clock and he was surprised by the an nouncement that Miss Lioyd was in the outer office and requested a few minutes’ Interview at once. “Are you surprised to see me?” she asked with a smile as he rose to re ceive her. He pressed her hand in a cordial grip. "Not nearly so much as I am de lighted—and 1 never wan more sur prised,’’ he replied, smiling down at her. The girl clapped her hands In mock applause. "Bravo!” she laughed. “I’ve always GIRLS WHO ARE PALE, NERVOUS May Find Help in Mrs. Elston’s Letter About Her Daughter. Burlington, low* —"Lydia E. Plnli- ham'a Vegetable Compound ha. cured my daughter of weakness She was troubled al most a year with it and complained of backache, so that 1 thought she would be an Inva lid. She wns en tirely run down pale, nervous and without appetite. I was very much discouraged. but heard of Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegeta ble Compound through friends, and now I pra'ae It because It has cured my daughter.”—Mrs. F. M ELSTON. R. D. No 3, Burlington, Iowa. Case of Another Girl. Scanlon, Minn “1 used to be both ered with nervous spells, and would cry 'f anyone was cros* to me. 1 roI a n ful weak spells, especially In the morning and my appetite wag poor 1 also had a tender place in my right *'be which pained when I did anv hard work. I took Lydia E. Pink- ham’s Vegetable Compound and my symptoms all changed, and I am cer tainly feeling fine. I recommend It to every suffering woman or girl. Yoj may use this letter for the good of Others “—Miss? FT.LA OLStiN, 171 8th 6t., Virginia, Minn Young Girls, Hoed Thi* Advice. Girls who are troubled with painful cr irregular periods, backache, head «"he dragring-down sensations falnMng spells or indigesMon sho-Ud inimed'ately seek restoration to h< h b 'jjjtlng Lydia E. Pmkh&ius t~bl* .Compound. thought that you big practical men didn’t say more things like that be cause you were too busy, not because* you couldn’t.” Allan almost blushed and she laughed again. “Well,” he said defensively, “If a man can dig a tunnel he ought to be able to build a compliment—if he puts his mind on It long enough.” The Communication. .She nodded brightly. “Well, my business this morning has more to do with tunnels than compliments. I suppose.” Allan glanced at her The lips still smiled, but there was unmistakable meaning in the eyes “Yes?” he remarked. Miss Lloyd glanced about the room. “No one can hear use?” she asked She was still half-laughing, but he saw that there was something seri ous back of It. “No one,” he assured her lightly. “I can’t stay but a minute.” She rose and walked over to hit* desk. He looked up at her, smiling but puzzled. She had become very sober. “Father,” she wild In a low tone, "said this was so Important that he wouldn’t risk writing it to anybody. He also said that one of the signs that you were a great man was that you never asked questions* when any one gave you a hint—but acted at once.” “Did he?” smiled the engineer: but there was no answering gleam In the girl's eyes. “Yes.” she replied, gravely. “He told me to whisper Just two words to you and—here they are” She leaned over swiftly and then with a quick nod walked swiftly out of the office. Allan started as if she had ftabbed him. His face turned red and then white, and he half rose as if to foil* w her Then he sank hack in his chair, his face grim and white. He thought raphllv for a moment and then rang a bell. “Send Hanson here at once,” he or dered his confidential clerk peremp torily. Ranson was Wolf's right-hand man Wolf was In Europe. And the two words that Ethel Llovd had whispered were: “Watch Wolf!” Stock Jobbery ard Suicide. I “PHILOSOPHERS have remarked that the possession of monev. beyond an amount nece**sary to aupnh physical wants and aanauoua desires never induces happiness. A comparatively small amount will do these tilings; so that when a man des’rcs. It I s * for some other reason than the m«'r*» des’re to possess it. Sidney Wolf, who, under the syndi cate’s directors, was the financial master of the tunnel, had In hte back ground of hi 5 - private life certain coarse appetites that ate up large sums of monev, but by no means d'sjFosed of even ha’f of his yearly in come. Even if they had, he could have increased the income without effort or risk. But he did no« have a big capital He would never have felt the lack. If his personal dislike for Allan had not fathered a dream that finallv mas tered him It began with a little Idea that he could summon up and put out of his mind like the Djin in the bot tle in the Arabian Nights. But one day the idea refused to go back Into the bottle, and then It became an ob session. Sidney Wolf wag no longer satisfied with “pleasures.” He want ed power. H“ wanted to be another Lloyd. He wanted to be the real master of the tunnel enterprise instead of the ex ecutive clerk of the real masters. He knew' his own ability. He knew how he could handle the Tunnel Compa ny’s money and make it reap other money in miraculous fashion. Why should he not make these huge sums for himself and slowly become the true him of Hanson’s suicide, lord of the financial world? He did not have capital of his own; but did he not have the enormous resources of the company at his com mand? He could speculate on his own account, and no one would ever know the difference. Back of him would be unlimited resources—or the stock market would think so. which would come to the same thing. A Clean-Up. Just to prove it he ran a corner In West India cotton and without using a cent of the syndicate’s money he cleaned up $'.1,000,000 in nine months. And now he had tasted blood. He tackled tobacco next, and for the first time in his life he made a mistake. When the smoke had settled his $ Q ,- 000.000 was gone and he was out $1,- 000,000 that he did not have to his persona? credit at the time. The loss of the money worried him not nearly so much as the mistake In Judgment that had caused It, but he w as undeterred. He tried cotton again the next winter, and cotton was true to him. By a series of swift strokes he beai the market two ways and was again millions to the good. Then he went into the copper mar ket. He surrounded it and was Just .about to make a killing w hen his cor- ner went to pieces on the bona flde discovery of enormous deposits in the Central African Mountains. He was attacked in the rear and massacred. He couldn’t ge- out without borrow in'.- some the syndicate's money. ' ills .confidence in himself had re CowUrbU 1913. Intimation*) News Serrlo* Criminal Carelessness BY DOROTHY DIX. GREAT many of us—and we are n<*t hard-hearted people 1 * either—read with delight the other day of a judge who had the courage to sentence a man to eight years in the penitentiary for acci dentally killing his friend. It is about time that somebody called a halt not only on the fool who fools with a gun, but on the other criminally careless individuals who go on their devastating way through the world, breaking hearts and ruining homes, and who think they have sufficiently atoned for the harm they do by say ing they didn’t intend it. In all the length and breadth of contradictory human nature there is nothing stranger than that we should take this overly charitable view of carelessness. The simple testimony that “he didn’t know' the gun was loaded” has been accepted as a hand some apology for murder in innumer able cases. To say we “didn’t think.” the rest of us regard as a blanket excuse that we can stretch over all the lesser crimes in the calendar. We work it for all that it is worth, yet in reality it is a plea for pardon that nobody but an idiot is Justified in putting forth in his own behalf. A Parallel. What reason, that anybody ought | to be expected to accept, can an in- | telligent human being give for not ■ thinking? It always reminds me of | a colored philosopher I once knew*. ' who meted out a stern justice to her offspring, and who was particularly severe on them when they dared to offer the excuse, "I didn't think,” by way of a panacea for their short comings. “Didn’t think, didn’t think.” she would exclaim, wrathfully, : “whut’s de good in havin’ a thinker I of you don’t w'uk it?” So say we all, brethren and sis ters—w’hat’s the use? To take the matter up in its most practical aspect is to recognize the fact that it is other people’s care lessness that lays our heaviest bur dens upon us. This is especially true as regards women, and there isn't a mother, and wife, and housekeeper in the land who doesn't know that it is because her family don’t think that she must slave at a never-ending Job, that has no let-up from year’s end to year’s end. Even more to be deplored than this Is the lack of thought vve show in j our conduct to those of our own ; household and whose happiness or | misery lies In our hands. I often think that w’hen the great judgment day comes for each of us. and we must answer for the deeds done in the flesh, we shall not be so appalled by the one or two great wrongs we may have committed as by the thou sand little acts of criminal careless ness that darken our past. What, for instance, are those hus bands going to say who took the Jewel of a woman’s happiness in their keeping and then were so careless that they threw it away? The world Is full of heart-hungry wives, who are starving for a little appreciation, a little love, a little praine. We don’t recognize it as a tragedy because we are too familiar with it; but there is really no sight sadder than that of the woman who spends her life try ing to please a husband who accepts her labor without thanks, who passes over her achievements without com mendation, and who growls an1 grumbles over ever/ mistake. Another place where we deserve to do time for our criminal carelessness is in the way we talk before serv ants. We discuss the most intimate matters before them. We hazard gueuses at people’s motives. We re peat rumors of intrigues. We talk as if the maid who was waiting behind our cha’r were deaf as the adder of the Scriptures and dumb as a coffin nail, instead of being an elongated ear and a talking machine combined. Then, when a distorted and garbled report goes forth of some family hap pening we wonder how on earth it got out. Perhaps it is not far short of the truth to say that we are all the authors of our own scandals, and that our own servants are the dis seminators. They get a word here and there, and put their own inter pretation on it .and the result Is that, reputations are ruined. Mr. and Mrs. X. discuss family finances at the table, and Mr. X. re marks that they can’t afford so and so. Listening Mary Jane, bringing In the dinner, picks up a few sentences, and by the time she has confided what she thought she heard to Mrs. Jones’ cook, and she has passed it on to Mrs Brown’s nurse, allth e world is • aware of a rumor that the X.’s are toppling on the verge of bankruptcy and can’t pay their servants. We de spise the base rumor we call kitchen gossip, But we listen to It. It makes and mars characters, and the pity of the thing is that it Is our own crim inal carelessness that lays Its foun dations. Another Sort. There are also the criminally care less people who terrorize society with the malapropos remarks. A forbidden subject draws them on to their doom as surely and irresistibly as the mag net attracts the needle. If there is a. tender spot In your soul they put their fingers right on it. Let an old maid be present and they get funny on the subject of women who are trying to marry. Is there a divorced person in the company, wild horses couldn’t draw them away from a discussion of marital unhappiness. Has some body a son who is a black sheep and who has brought shame and sorrow on his family, they discourse on for gery and betrayed trusts and prisons. Of course, these people always ex cuse themselves by saying they didn’t think. It should never be accepted. People who haven’t enough brains to think have no Business in society. They should be locked up in asylums for the feeble-minded until they learn enough intelligence to kee^ them from wounding other people by their dan gerous conversation. For my part, I would prefer to be killed by the clean stiletto stab of an enemy to being kicked to death by a donkey, and I would Just as soon have my feelings hurt, or my vanity wound ed, by an intentional unkindness as by the blundering stupidity of the criminally careless who never think. “A Basket of Summer Fruit’* By Ella Wheeler Wilcox- (Copyright. ISIS, by Amerlcao-Journal-Examinec.) S EPTEMBER comes along the great green way That Spring and Summer fashioned for our feet. And though her face is beautiful and sweet, Though gracious smiles about her ripe mouth play, Yet subtle recollections of each day Of idleness in her large book I meet. All things achieved how small and incomplete Beside the boastful promises of May! Now I berate fair June, who tempted me With fragrant beds of roses, and as well Her siren sisters, who were following near; But most of all I do accuse the sea. Reach me thine hand, and help me break the spell, September, matron-mentor of the year! ceived a second blow, but he was sti’J convinced of his power. He enter'd the arena again and fought with all of his skill. He sold up investments he had made. He went to Europe and called in every dollar he had a strong hold on. He fenced and struck with ail his old power, but always some unforeseen act of Providence set him back when victory was within reach. His dream of power was at least temporarily dead. He dreamed now only of getting even in his accounts before the state ment was demanded of him at the di rectors’ meeting, the first Tuesday In January. It was getting along toward the season of the yellow leaves and Wolf occasionally felt a moisture on his body as he thought about the ap proaching day of reckoning and the deficit that reached something like eight millions. He was in Europe when he decide! to try cotton again. lie laid plans and made his moves with all his oil skill and then went to his old Hunga rian home to see his father. He was in the midst of this reunion when a disquieting telegram reached him He paid no heed to It. A few hours later a second was delivered and within the hour he took the train for Lon don. A third one reached him n route and for the first time In h!~ life he vacillated. He was certain that he had the cotton market accurately es timated and yet—and yet he had made a lot of mistakes in the last few years. He could get out now without loss. If he held on another week, he might lose more than he had already dumped into the maw of the market. For three hours on the train he sat and pondered with a telegraph blank In his hand. And then he gave orders to sell. An hour later he made up his mind to countermand the order as soon as reached the next station. His agents were cowards, he told himself. This was his one chance to recoup. But when the station was reached he did not stir. The cold fit had come on him again and he distrusted his in stinct, the instinct that had been his main guide and that had failed him m often lately. Within a week he cursed himself and his agents. The orner which he had dropped had passed into other hands, who had run it successfully and stood to win more millions than he needed to suuare his accounts. But he still had a profitable specu lation in tin He was already winner on that He woulo not make the same mistake here, he told himself. He held on with the result that he held on too long and was barely able to break e?ni on tbs deal. He could have mude four millions by selling 48 hours earlier. “I need a few weeks’ rest,” he de cided. “That’s what’s the matter with me. I’m going to San Sebastian.” When he arrived in the warm south country, he found a telegram waiting for him. ’ "Report in New York at once. Im portant,” it commanded, with strange curtness. It was signed, “Allan." • * • The day that Wolf received the telegram was the day after Ethel Lloyd had whispered those two words to Allan in his office. Allan had sent at once for Hanson. He knew that Ranson was Wolf's right-hand man. but he did not know that Ranson was the only man that Wolf had trusted when he began preying on the stock market for his own pocket. “Ranson,” he said, abruptly, “we will be resuming work in the tunnel presently. It is essential that we know exactly how much cash we car lay hands on and when. I will want to go over the books with you, to gether with representatives ' of the board, so that we will all know where we stand.” Ranson's End. Allan kept his eyes on the young man's face. Not so much as an eye lash flickered. “Will you want to begin to-day, Mr. Allan?’’ he asked politely. Allan was disarmed. “There’s no such hurry as that.” he replied. “We’ll take it up to-morrow morning. You will be ready then?” “CVrtainly,” was the prompt reply. That night Ranson shot himself. He didn't know it. hut detectives were watching him until he went to his rooms that night. They took pains to see that Allan was notified before even the police or the Coroner received word. Allan took steps— ef fectual steps—to see that the death appeared as an ‘‘accident’’ when the newspapers printed it. Then he turned his experts loose on Wolf's private books and at the same time sent the telegram that reached the financial manager in the south of Spain. He also sent other telegrams and within an h »ur after the slip of paper was handed to Wolf in the ho tel at San Sebastian, the financial manager of the Tunnel Syndicate was under the fire of eyes that never left him until he stepped in at the door of Allan's private office in the Syndi cate Building in New York. But in the days that intervened be fore that moment Allan’s experts had been busy, and their labors had been alarmingly fruitful. They disclosed a series of remarkably ingenious false entries and manipulations by which a shortage that might be more than $10,000,000 had been adroitly covered. Allan had transcripts, copies and notes covering these activities on his desk when Wolf entered. The Interview. The money trickster had planned his defense. He had plenty of time coming over. He was filled with dread when he received Allan’s per emptory summons, but he rapidly sketched out his explanation in case his private activities should have been discovered. No one was on the real inside but Ranson, and he could trust Ranson. He was two days out of New York when the wireless told The news struck him like a physi cal blow. He was mentally and phys ically paralyzed for an hour or more. If Ranson had been driven to th s step, things must be bad, indeed. Rut there was only one thing to do—bluff it out. He sent t message to Allan assuming all responsibility for Ran son. There was no ^eply. Summoning all of his nerve and gripping a cigar Juantily In his teeth, he hurried to the office as soju | as he landed, and demanded to see Allan immediately. He was told to wait. He waited fifteen minutes, and i he was mopping his forehead when he was finally told that Mr. Allan was j ready to receive him. ■ \\ ell, you must be pretty busy!” he exclaimed, before he was fairly inside the door. Allan was looking at some papers. He glanced up and then down again. “This is terrible about Ranson,” went on Wolf, coming forward to the desk. “What on earth w*as the mat ter with him?” Allan raised his eyes and looked at him, coolly, critically. “Oh, you’re here, are you, Wolf?” he said, quietly. “Sit down.” To Be Continued To-morrow. By MRS. FRANK LEARNED. Author “Etiquette In New York To-day” A POETICAL line In the Bible— “A basket of summer fruit”— seems of special suggeative- ness in the vacation days of the sea son. What shall we gather from the many opportunities which summer offers? One basket of summer fruit may contain health, pleasure, hap piness. Much depends on ourselves as to what we may gain or lose. Our holidays and recreations should truly re-create and refresh us. They must be wholesome, innocent, simple if they are to have restorative ef fects on body and mind. They must leave no bad taste. They must never be unworthy of our high ideals or in jurious toward others. Recreation in its true sense is a duty. Constant ly we are wearing out and need to be made over in body and mind for the sake of the task we have to do. If our recreations are of the right sort they will make life happy and useful. The danger in these days is in con fusing pleasure with excitement and making pleasure a pursuit. We shall gather nothing that is of value until we free ourselves of that false idea. A blessing through life and an added attraction in character and person ality is in learning how to retain a delight in simple pleasures and in keeping the eager, joyous, unspoileo sweetness of heart which comes from enjoyment in them. A cultivation of the love of nature will help to give us a source of joy and strength unknown to those who do not open their eyes or hearts and minds to know how to tee and how to understand. Golden opportunities are our9 in summer. We can leam something of the trees and wild flow ers. the habits of the birds. We can learn to love the glory of a sunset; the effect of color in cloud, of land scape, or on the sea; to look intelli gently at the expanse of the heav ens at night and learn the wonders of the stars and where to find the constellations. The universal Igno rance and Ingratitude In regard to the stars is astonishing. Even a slight acquaintance with these wonders will give an uplift to the mind; an Inti mate friendship with them will bring lasting delight and lift us far, far above the petty Irritations of life. We may look up and contemplate glorious beauty and majesty shining by the very light of God. Few things are more delightful than a holiday which has been well earned by conscientious, earnest work, bravely done throughout the year. A. complete change In surroundings, in terests and occupations should be part of a beneficial holiday. 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