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’ greatest ztory or ns
^ Kind Since Jules Verne
By Nell Brinkley
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 t V£ l . n ® 1
trains, with Baermann, an engineer, In i harge of Main Station No. 4 inty
are traveling at the rate of UK mll^s an hour Rives is In love with
Maude Allan, wife of Mackendrlck Allan, whose mind first conceived the
great tunnel scheme After going about 250 miles under the Atlantic Ocean
Rives gets out of the train Suddenly the tunnel seems to burst There,
is a frightful explosion Men are flung to death and Rives is badly wounded.
He staggnrs through the blinding smoke, realizing that about 3.000 men
have probably perished He and other survivors get to Station No. 4
Rives finds Baermann holding at buy a wild mob of frantic men who want
to climb on a work train homebody 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 < . 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 tells the company of his projec t for a tunnel 3 100 miles long.
The financiers agre#» to hack him Allan and Rives want him to take charge
of the actual work. Rives accepts. Hives e oes to the Park Club to meet wit-
terstelner a financier At Columbus Circle news of the great project is being
flashed on a screen Thousands arc watching it. Mrs Allan becomes a lonely
and neglected woman and is much thrown In the company of Rives Sydney
Wolf, the money power of two continents, plots against Allan and Hives Mrs
Allan has her suspicions aroused as to the friendsehip between her husband
and Ethel Lloyd. Hives and Mrs. Allan let the wine of love pet to their
heads and. before thev know it, they confess their love for each other Tun
nel City's inhabitants learn something has gone wrong in the lower workings
of the great bore An explosion and fire have occurred In the tunnel, and
when the workers hear of it definitely they become a raging mob. surging
about the entrance of the bore Mrs. Allan is warned not to leave her home
while the excitement is at its height Rut she and her child go forth. They f
meet a mob of women, frenzied hv the disaster, who stone them to death. )
Rives was missing in the tunnel andyMlari. his wife, child, dearest friend and
5 000 other lives pone, gave In despair. But he resolves to ronquor, not he
subdued, by the great project Gathering a relief train together he hurries
into the’ tunnel Near the end he comes to a pile of dead bodies. He
Anally rescues Rives nearly dead. After the disaster the tunnel workers, in
terror, strike and the great project Is stopped. Missing the strain of work,
Allan’s melancholy returns and he hastens to Europe. After months of wan
dering he returns and finds Rives out of the hospital, but his memory badly
affected
Now Go On With the Story.
irroro to. fi.rm.1. nf R.n.b»«! K.iura.iin— i thought that you bis practical men
Hrnnin ■ *r«ion dopyngh'«<i. »»13. oj * didn't say more things like that be-
ri«<-her \ed«g Berho. English translation ant raUHe you were too busy, not because
she
<Copjnih.au 1913. by Iptsnjational New* Barrios. )•
TO-DAY’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 htu glance and nodded
slowly. This was th* sane Rives.
"You couldn't help it.” he went on.
“You didn’t undeitstand her—and l
did.”
"You did?” exclaimed Allan.
"Yes—1 did. You see, Mac, 1 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 your friend, Mac.”
Allan wus 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 died the next day and I’m
—this! And—and—‘God reveals Him
self in many ways!’ Good-night, old
man"
* • • • *
The strike lasted all that summer,
but toward the fall it began to show
signs of breaking. Many of the mt»n
had come back to work, and strike
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 was
over and Allan was just beginning to
feel that all of his trouble* were over
for the time when a new and more
menacing storm gathered over his
head. In the mighty and complex
financial structure of the tunnel there
was a faint but ominous crackling.
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 Lloyd was in
the outer office and requested a few
minutes’ interview at once.
"Are you surprised to we 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 1 am de
lighted—and 1 never was* 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. Pink-
hams 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 was en
tirely run down,
pale, nervous and
without appetite.
I waa very much
discouraged. but
heard of Lvdla E. Plnkham's Vegeta
ble Compound through friend® and
now l praise It because It has cured
my daughter.”—Mrs. F. M ELSTON,
R. D. No 3. Burlington, Iowa
Case of Another Girl.
Scanlon, Minn.—“I used to be both
ered with nervous spells, and would
cry if anyone was cross to me. I got
awful weak spells especially In the
morning, and my appetite was poor 1
also had a tender place in my right
side which pained when I did anv
hard work I took Lydia F. 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 You
may use this letter for the good of
others '*—Mias ELLA OLSON. 171 Kth
St , Virginia, Minn.
Young Girls, H©#d This Advice.
Girls who are troubled with painful
or irregular period®, backache, head,
ache, dragglng-down sensations,
fainting spells or indigestion should
Immediately restoration to he h
. hv taking Lydia E. Pinkham s Ve*«-
tble Compound.
you couldn’t.”
Allan almost blushed and
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 eye®
"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,” ht asjured her lightly.
"I can’t stay but a minute.” She
rose and walked over to his desk. He
looked up at her, smiling but puzzled.
She had become very sober.
"Father.” she said in a low tone,
"said this wa® so Important that he
wouldn’t risk writing it to anybody.
He also said that one of the signs
that i ou «ere ;* great man «^ that
you never asked .question* when any
one gave you a hint—but acted at
once."
“I>id he?” ®miled 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 ^tabbed him. His face turned
red and then white, and he half rose
as if to follow her. Then he sank
back In bis chair, his face grim and
white. He thought rapidly for j
moment and then rang a bell.
"Send Ranson 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 and Suicide
P hilosophers have remarked
that the possession of money,
beyond an amount tieeersary to
supply physical wants and sensuous
desires never Induces happiness. A
comparatively small amount will do
these things; so that when a man
desires, it is for some other reason
than the mere desire to possess it.
Sidney Wolf. who. under the syndt
cate's directors, was the financial
master of the tunnel, had In hte back-
Kround of his private life certain
coarse appetites ‘that ate up large
sums of money, hut by no means
disposed of even half of his yearly ln-
. Mine. Even if they had. he could
have increased the income without
effort or risk
Hut he did not have ti big capital
He would never have felt the lack, if
his personal dislike for Allan had not
fathered a dream that finally mas
tered him It began with a little idea
that he could summon up and put out
of his mind like the r>Jtn In the bot
tle in the Arnbian Nights. But one
day the Idea refused to go back Into
the bottle, and then It became an ob
session Sidney Wolf was no longer
satisfied with "pleasures.” He want-
ed power.
He wanted to be another Lloyd. He
wanted to be the real master of the i
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 husre sums
for himself and slowly become the true
him of Ranson’s suicide,
lord of the financial world?
He did not have capital or 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 $9,000,000 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 $9,-
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
was undeterred. He tried cotton again
the next winter, and cotton was true
to him. By a series of swift strokes
he beat 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 fide
discovery of enormous deposits in the
Central African Mountains. He was
attacked in the rear and massacred.
He couldn’t ge' •>*n w ithout borrow -
ing some of the syndicate’s mone>
His confidence in himself had re-
Criminal Carelessness
BY DOROTHY DIX.
A GREAT many of us—and we
are not hard-hearted people
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
I 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
ef you don’t wuk it?”
So say we all, brethren and sis
ters—what’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 we show in
our conduct to those of our own
household and whose happiness or
misery lies in our hands. I often
think that when the great judgment
day comes for each of us. and we
must answer for the deeds done in
the flesh, w'e 9hall 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 praise. 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 w ithout thanks, who passes
over her achievements without com
mendation, and who growls and
grumbles over every mistak®.
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
gueswes at people’s motives. W'e re
peat rumors of intrigues. We talk as
if the maid who was waiting behind
our chair 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 keen them from
wounding other people by their dan
gerous conversation.
For my part, I would prefer to be
killed by the clean stiletto str of an
enemy to being kicked to deatn 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.
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox-
(Copyright. 1913. by Americao-Journal-Examiuer.)
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 aud incomplete
Beside the boastful promises bf 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 a
Reach me than?
September, matrou-mentor of the year!
'^jAkdo accuse the sea.
ie^jkid, and help me break the spell,
ceived a second blow, but he was stilJ
convinced of his power. He entered
the arena again and fought with ail
of his skill. He sold up investments
he had made. He went to Europe
and called in every dollar he had n
strong hold on. He fenced and struck
with all 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 wa® 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.
lie was in Europe when he decide !
to try cotton again. He laid plans
and made his moves w’lth all hls» 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 hi* 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 order®
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 85
often lately.
Within a week he cursed himself
and his agents. The corner which he
had dropped had passed into other
hands, who had run it successfully
and stood to win more millions than
he needed to square his accounts. !
But he still had a profitable specu- I
lation in tin. He was already winner
on that. He would 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 even on the deal He could
have made four millions by selling 43 J
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 Ranson. lie 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 can
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?"
"Certainly,” was the prompt reply.
That night Ranson shot himself.
He didn't know it, but 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
Wolfs 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
$10.00u,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.
I? Ranson had been driven to this
step, things must be bad, indeed. But
there wa® only one thing to do—bluff
it out. He sent a message to Allan
assuming all responsibility for Ran
son. There was no reply.
Summoning all of his nerve and
gripping a cigar juantily in his
teeth, he hurried to the office as soon
as he landed, and demanded to see
Allan immediately. He was told to
wait. He waited fifteen minutes, and
he wa® mopping his forehead when he
was finally told that Mr. Allan was
ready to receive him.
"Well, 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 tne
desk. "What on earth was 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 suggestive
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, unspoiled
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 see and how
to understand. Golden opportunities
are ours in summer. We can learn
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. Resting
does not mean idleness or cessation
fi*om activities or companionship.
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Ask your druggist for
it. If he cannot sup
ply the MARVEL,
accept no other, but
send stamp forbook.
Hamel Co.. 44 E. 23d St
Funeral Designs and Flowers
FOR ALL OCCASIONS.
Atlanta Floral Company
455 EAST FAIR STREET.
CHICHESTER S PILLS
the l»IAMOVU BRAND. a
iTa'vJV Lil»»! Aik y•mi- I'rug.i,, (a-
♦ ( < kl^kss-Ur* l»lMtn«>u«f Broad/iVS
. sealed with Blue Rlbb*«.\V
1 nf mo other. Bn» mf ymmr Y
> oi\M4*m» braV.»pilu;™*I
year* known as Best. Safest. Always Reliable
SOLD BV DRIGQISTS LVERVWHf P5
An Opportunity
ToMake Money
lavealerm, an of id«a, ud mam oMity, ilinM wrti to
day Ht tor lut ,1 ■X»tu B—dod. pna oforod by loadra,
Maiuftcftaren.
Pitonb Mcarod or wm *«» rrtomod. “Wry Swbo ta*w**t»
Fail, How to Cat Ymt Rttmt ud Yaw Mowy.” and odio:
valuable bookie* M fmm to aay oddnm
RANDOLPH fii CO.
Fateat Attamajs,
618 “F" Street, N. W„
waiHffimM, n. c.
111
NATIONAL
CONSERVATION
EXPOSITION
Sept. 1st to Nov. 1st
Knoxville, Tenn.
Only 5J4 Hours’ Ride
VERY LOW RATES
NO CHANGE OF CARS
City Ticket Office, 4 Peachtree Street
Union Passenger Station
ft
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1