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i!
Their Married Life
By MABEL HERBERT URNER.
Advance Fashions for P"all Wear
Fully Described by Olivette
fROM the top of the Bteep flight of
steps Helen looked down Into
ki the dingy, dimly lit basement
•wn as the “Chat Noir”—the fa
lls /‘Black Cat.”
*S<*t a very cheerful looking Joint,”
im**nted Warren.
bear, do you suppose It’s safe?”
said nervously. “Baedeker says
i© of these places are regular dens
pthieves and outlaws.”
f Rot!" Warren started down* the
^ps. “Come on ”
nstde was a long room with low
^oden rafters, a sawdusted floor,
Ugh. bare tables and benches. Over
„old brick fireplace sAt a huge blacK
, whose yellow glass eyes were Mt
by a lamp or candle.
Ground the wall ran a shelf on
itch was a curious collection of cats,
, of them black. As the only lights
the place shone through the bulg-
X eyes of these animals, the effect
ib most weird.
4.t one of the tables, three long-
Ired, velvet-jacketed men were sip-
rjif beer. To Helen’s amazement
d embarrassment they rose as she
ettd, bowed, waved their glasses
her and called out:
A r oila la petite dame en blanc—
# Bohemians of Montmartre was
B '.at They Meant.
^A T hat do they mean?” whisperen
en. drawing closer to Warren.
Your dress Is white, and they're
ding out a welcome to the ’woman
white.* But it’s all a pprt of the
ke. Those guys are hired to pose as
>hemians—to greet the people and
ve the place atmosphere.’’
Heleu remembered that her guide
jok said that at the Black Cat the
baret had originated, but that now
is once favored resort of the artists
d Bohemians of Monmart re was
*quented only by sightseers.
Warren was right. These velvet-
ated men were evidently hired 10
ke the former spirit and atmosphere
the place.
An attendant now appeared and
iggestively wiped off the table he
re them. Warren ordered some
•er, which seemed to be the drink
ere.
From somewhere came a shrill t in -
• of a bell, and a white curtain was
tpped before a miniature stage in
recess of the wall. One of the
rig-hatred youths, a stick in his
md, a slouch hat on his flowing
cits, now arose and began to sing.
{© stood by the toy stage, which re-
ilnded Helen of the. Punch and Judy
heaters of her childhood.
With the second verse of the rol-
icking French song, the black shad
ows of tiny marionettes were thrown
m the small curtain.
“If this is a real shadow play, it’s
ood fun," exclaimed Warren, leaning
orward with interest.
The small figures were cleverly ma
nipulated. and their black shadows
lanced across the white sheet in
•omieai pantomime. When they
inally flashed off. the tiny sta*e dark-t
ned and everybody applauded.
“Well, let’s move on," suggestel
iVarirn. "We’ve seen about all that’s
o be seen here.
father Late.
“Where are we going now?"-asked
ielen. eagerly, for they were "doing
Montmartre" to-nlghi.
"Might a a well take In the Hat
Mort nexl. But that’ll probably be a
"ake. too We're twenty years too
late—none of these Joints are what
hey used to be."
It had been drizzling when th’y
amt* In and now It was raining
hard Helen drew her white skirts
lose as they climbed the steep, we!
Heps to the street.
As there was no cab In sight, they
ad no choice but to walk, and Helen
rudged along, holding her skirts with
•ne hand and with th<) other clinging
o Warren's arm.
There was something weirdly fasci
nating in wandering through these
dark narrow streets on a rainy night,
•'he small, dimly lit shops and black
Jleyways had an air of sinister mys-
t;tbl«-s were arranged along the walls,
as at Maxim's, but here the r.oi>c and
hilarity were unlike anything they
had seen.
The diners were throwing confetti,
singing, cheering, and the air was
thick with smoke and heavy with the
odor of champagne. There seemed
not a vacant place, but at fat. red
faced Frenchman in tight-fitting
evening clothes, evidently the pro
prietor. found them two seats near
the orchestra.
“Will we have to order cham
pagne?" demurred Helen, who strong
ly objected to paying a high price for
a wine that she really disliked.
“That’s all right here. They’re giv
ing you something for your money.
Pretty gay, eh?" as a girl In a red
spangled skirt frisked by, her skirts
so stiff and short that they brushed
a match-safe from their table.
Felt Nervous.
ery.
Farther on. the “Rat Mort" shone
>ut as the only one brightly lit spot
n this dingy nie^hborhood. But
when they reached the place, they
found none of the life und gnyety the
lights had led them to expect
It was a regulur restaurant, with
a space cleared for dancing. But
:her© were only a few people there,
and the waiters were standing idly
around. The rainy night had dis
couraged the sightseers.
“This is too dead for us.” and
Warren shook his head at the waiter
who ran forward to seat them
“Come on. let’s do some exploring
I've a hunch that we’ll find some
thing around here yet worth seeing."
As they went out Warren hailed a
passing cab, bundled Helen into it
and told the man to drive around
Montmartre.
The man who was sitting next to
Helen had his arm around the pretty
French girl with him. Another girl
had tied her pink chiffon hat with its
velvet streamers on the head of her
black-mustached escort.
Helen was not sure that she want
ed to stay. She felt just a little ner
vous, the gayety was a bit too loud
and too hilarious. But Warren was
enjoying it hugely.
At a high desk In the corner sat a
stout Frenchwoman, probably the
wife of the proprietor. It was she
who checked off the bottles of cham
pagne as they were carried out, made
change for the waiters find kept a
genera! shrewd surveillance over
everything.
1*111 inly It was her policy to keep
up the gayety, for the greater the
gayety the more frequent the orders
fqr wine. And now, when for a mo
ment the merriment flagged, she
beckoned one of the dancing girls
and gave her a large paper filled with
colored balls.
With a shout, the girls tossed the
balls among tjfie guests. Then fol
lowed a fast volley of fire hack and
forth. The gay little balls, about the
size of a walnut, were light enough
to be thrown freely without harm
“Why, I believe that girl’s trying
to swat me," grinned Warren, as he
dodged the third ball thrown direct
ly at him by n pretty girl sitting
with a French officer across the room.
“Watch me give her one,” but he
succeeded only in hitting the bald
head of a passing waiter.
The girl threw another which War
ren caught und tossed back “with
better aim. For the next few' mo
ments they pelted each other until
the balls were all broken. Helen
could not help thinking it rather un
dignified. Warren did not often un
bend like this, but perhaps it was
the spirit of the place.
When this diversion had died out.
the Ingenious mudame produced a
bag of toy balloons and later another
of confetti.
"They know how to make the thing
pay here,’’ declared Warren. “But
that’s all right, they're working hard
to give the people what they think
they want.”
In the next lull the orchestra rose
and trtarched gayly, in single file,
around the room. The cellist held
his instrument \>ver his head, and
twanged on it like a banjo, while a
violinist carried the base violin, beat
ing it as a drum.
After them pranced the dancing
girls, the first one clutching the coat
tail of the last musician, and the
other girls swinging on to each oth
er’s short, fluffy skirts.
The girls stamped and kicked and
swished their saucy spangled sklr»
against the tables as they passed
This frisky procession was greets
with wild clapping and shrieks of
laughter.
Getting Boisterous.
Streets Deserted.
Through the rain-blurred cab win
dows the streets looked black and
ieserted. At length a group of flash
ing lights shone out in the darkness
rhead, and Warren called to the man
to draw up.
“You wait here while 1 investigate,”
and leaving Helen in the cab. War
ren disappeared through the glitter
ing doorway, over which flushed
“Cafe Royal” in green and red letters.
In a few' minutes he came out.
We’ll take a chance on that Some
thing’s doing in there, all right.”
Even from the sidewalk Helen could
ear the music and shrieks of laugh-
>r. Inside the scene was bewilder-
“Dear, 1 don’t think I like this,”
demurred Helen. “It’s getting too
boisterous.”
“Huh, und you've been crazy to
see this sort of thing! That’s like
a woman. But all right, come on—
guess I’ve had enough. Too blamed
much noise and smoke."
Outside it was still raining, but
the damp air was cool and fresh.
"That place was all right,” mused
Warren. “Of course most of that
hullabaloo was forced —those dancing
gli-ls were paid to keep it up. But
that came nearest to being tlie real
thing of anything we’ve struck yet.”
THE TUNNEL
GREATEST STORY OF ITS
KIND SINCE JULES VERNE
(From «h* OermAn of Bernhard Kellermann—•
Oerrran version Copyrighted. 1918. by
Piarher V'erla*. Berlin. English translation and
compilation by
(Copyrighted. 1913, by International New* Serrio*.)-
a VERY unusual suit is this,
with its bretelles extend
ing down to form the outer
stripes of the muff, which is
fashioned of the same silky
zibeline used for the suit.
The skirt is a simple circu
lar affair, with a slight up
ward draping into a narrow,
half belt at the back.
The coat is cut single-
breasted, and fastens down
the center front from throat
to hem with large crocheted
buttons.
The collar is a Robespierre,
with tiny cords extending
from its front corners and
ending in balls of the astrak
han or Persian which is used
to trim the bretelles and muff.
The feature of the suit is, of
course, the combination collar
and muff. This collar starts
from a deep yoke-like point in
the back, crosses the shoulders
in six-inch bands, whose inner
edge is in turn banded with
the fur, and down the center of
which is an applique braiding
in applied points.
A crossbar extends across
the chest, and joins the two
sides of this unique cloth
‘ ‘ chain. ’ ’
The muff is made in five
panels—the outer ones being
the continuation of the shoul
der bands, the next repeating
the motive and pattern of the
outer band, with the braiding
and fur slightly wider than
that used in the bretelles.
For the center panel of the
muff the zibeline is used.
The woman who likes novel
ty in her costumes will find
this a most useful if unusual
way of having her muff ever
safely at hand.
—OLIVETTE.
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
/ys/oro &y
Neat, Becoming and Inexpensive.
Should a Girl Kiss Her Cousin? By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
On one occasion when a certain
Parliamentary candidate, known as a
clever .speaker and very' effective in
dealing with a hostile audince, was ad
dressing a meeting in his constitu
ency, he had no sooner rlfen and said,
"Gentlemen," than someone threw' an
egg at him. Quite unperturbed, he
turned to the offender and said:
“I was not speaking to you, sir.”
The long, crowded room was ablaze
with lights. Dancing girls is short
ballet skirts were whisking about in
the small space for dancing. The
. Jways Reliable
Relief from the ailments caused
by disordered stomach, torpid
liver, irregular bowels is given
—quickly, safely, and assur
edly—by the tried and reliable
EECHAM’S
“Well, did you discover anything in
Stump’s past life that we cun use
against him?”
Detective—Not a thing. All he ever
did before he came here was to sell
awnings.
Election Agent—Why. that’s just
what we want. We’ll say that he
has been mixed up in some decidedly
shady' transactions.
S HE’S engaged and she has a good-
loking cousin.
When she meets the go6d-look-
ing cousin he kisses her, ami when he
leaves her he kisses her again. The
fiance says the cousin has got to stop
kissing his sweetheart or there will be
trouble, and now the sweetheart writes
me a letter to know’ what to do about it.
“I like my cousin, and I don’t want to
hurt his feelings,’’ says the girl who
gets kissed: “but I love my sweetheart
and don’t want to make him really an
gry. Still, 1 don’t think he ought to be
so bossy, do you—and isn’t it all right
for cousins to kiss? We have always
done it in our family.’’
Well, now, little girl, Just because
you have always done a thing in your
family is no reason at all why it is the
right thing to do, is it?
The ferry boat was well on her wav
when a violent storm arose, and fears
were entertained for her safety.
The ferryman and his mate (both
Highlander®) held a consultation, and
after a short debate, the ferryman
turned to his passengers and re
marked anxiously:
“We’ll Just tak’ yer tuppences now.
for we dlnna ken what micht come
ower us.”
•'What’s the matter, old chap? You
look as if you hadn’t had a wink of
sleep all night.”
“I haven’t. You see. nyy wife
threatened never to speak to me again
if I didn’t come home last night be
fore 10 o’clock, and I didn’t.’’
"I see; you’re finding out the lone-
somenees of solitude because she kept
her word, eh?"
“Not by a jugful. I wish she had."
•vcryvtfctr*. W 10c., 26c.
A commercial traveler tells of seeing
in a certain cemetery the epitaph. “Sa
cred to the memory of James Perkins,
for thirty years senior partner of the
firm of Perkins & Parker, now Parker
& Co., who hi>*|to merit a continuance
Why Not?
And then your sweetheart doesn't be
long to your family—and never will—
you will belong to his family, und per
haps they don't kiss—in that circle—
not cousins, anyhow—and so you’ll have
to think it over and do what sweet
heart wants you to do about ihe kiss
ing
Why not?
What is there so entrancing about
kissing that cousin that you even hes
itate a minute about turning your cheek
the other way when you see him com
ing?
Silly—your sweetheart’s idea about
it?
Well maybe and maybe not; but any
how. it is his idea, and why shouldn’t
you please him In the matter?
What if he likes blue and you keep
on wearing pink—what if he likes chick
en and you insist on ordering veal.
What if he likes poetry and you want
him to read the millinery “ads”—do
: ou think these things will tend to make
nim that much fonder of you?
I .WJiy iiui give up tu foiflu u* UUtf iugt-
ter -it is, after all, unimportant to you
and import&iU to him—what’s the use
of making a fuss about it?
I know a woman and a man who di
vorced each other because the man
played the guitar and the wife wouldn’t
play his accompaniments on the piano.
It didn’t end with that, but it’s how
the whole trouble began. What a goose
that woman was not to play any old
accompaniment her husband thought he
wanted! What hurt could it have done
her or any one else?
What’s the difference, anyhow? If
you love the man you want to please
him, don’t you? Well, a wfse woman
told me once that the way to please a
man was to give up to him in all the
little things that don’t count and hang
on to your own way in all the big
things that do count—he’ll be willing to
give up to you in them Men don’t
mind big sacrifices. A man will give
you $100 and quarrel over 10 cents too
much on the grocery bill. That's the
way men are made.
Why not make up your mind to take
them as they are and not as you think
they should be, and then, honestly, now,
hasn’t Sweetheart a pretty cousin some
where?
If he has. just get her to come and
see you, and every time Sweetheart
kisses pretty cousin see how you feel
about it. That may help you to under
stand Sweetheart's attitude a little bet
ter.
Out of Fashion.
Remember, you are used to cousin—
you see in him Just good old Dick, who
taught you to skate and to swim—when
he felt like it and you promised to make
him enough fudge to pay for lessons;
and he sees him as a gay deceiver.
Maybe he is one, too, even if he is your
cousin.
And besides, little girl, kissing is out
of fashion except among real sweet
hearts; didn’t you know that? Ten
years ago every time you had tea with
a friend she kissed you w’hen you came
and kissed you when you went. The
woman who tries to kiss a friend now
except in really solemn times is looked
upon as just the least little bit in bad
form. Didn’t you know' that?
Hand holding has gone out, too. and
waist spanning. Girls don’t paw' each
other the way they used to. And cous
ins—well, cousins aren’t nearly so much
relation to each other as they were
when they were all liable to be brought
up under the same roof. Keep cousin
at a distance, little girl, to please your
self as well as your Sweetheart. It
can’t do any harm and It may do a whole
lot of good.
Ity, but he found no comfort in it
now. His cigar, loss than half burned,
was out; but he threw' it away and lit
another. Allan watched him in si
lence, and Wolf wished that the light
ing of the cigar might consume an
hour. At last he threw the match
The financier almost eagerly took a
seat, and, as he was composing him
self, he reflected that this was the
first time Allan had ever addressed
him without the prefix of “Mr.” He
had always longed for that familiar-
away hnd leaned back.
“I’m terribly distressed about Ran-
son,” he said, in tones that he strove
to make grave and pitying. “He was
an extraordinarily bright man. He
would have been invaluable to us in a
few' years, Mr. Allan.”
Allan nodded grimly.
“He certainly was bright,” he con
ceded acidly. “One of the brightest
young men that ever handled books,
by all accounts. As to his probable
future value, there is a field for a
wide difference of opinion.”
“Why, what do you mean?” asked
■Wolf, with a well-feigned stare of
surprise. “Ts anything w’rong?”
Allan laughed; but the sound of it
did not move his visitor to join in.
“If there is anything wrong with
Ranson’s accounts.” declared Wolf,
sitting up proudly. “I will assume full
responsibility, as I wired you.”
The Charge.
Allan leaned forward, his lips set
in a thin line.
“Let's leave Ranson out of It,
Wolf,” he said, grimly. “Ranson is
dead—his chapter is closed. I didn’t
call you back to talk about Ranson,
but about Ranson’s bookkeeping.”
“Well, what of it?” The other at
tempted to bluster.
“Just this much—you have embez
zled something like $10,000,000!"
Wolf knew that he should spring
up at this point in indignant denials,
but Allan’s eyes—cold, hard and men
acing—held him. He moistened his
lips.
“You must be crazy, Mr. Allan!” he
gasped.
Allan looked him oyer swowly,
from head to foot.
“Is that all you have to say be
fore I call a policeman?”
Wolf swallowed hard, but at last
managed to find some semblance of
his natural voice.
"Why. Mr. Allan, you must be out
of your mind!” he cried. “You have
had someone going over my books in
my absence? You have, eh? Well,
you might know that no mere ac
countant could understand these
transactions. I know perfectly well
that our cash shows a shortage of
some millions just at this time. That
has happened once or tw'ice before
w'hen I have been on the wrong side
of the market!”
“Oh! It has?”
“Why, certainly!” returned Wolf,
with some return of confidence as he
felt his voice swelling out. “You
know what my transactions are—
what my business for the syndicate
is. As I telegraphed you—you could
understand—I have not been lucky
this time—pretty near the first time,
too. I sold cotton too early, on the
advice of that fool Harding in Liver
pool. I fired him. Then T held on to
tin too long. I don’t often get two
facers like that in a row', and I’m sor
ry—but I’ll have it all cleaned up and
a healthy balance showing by the
first of the year.”
"I hope we will,” said Allan, grimly.
“I am sure we will,” declared Wolf.
“I said ‘we,’ not ‘you,’” Allan cor
rected him, w'ith icy precision.
Wolf gulped and chewed his cigar.
“I don’t think you ought to take it
this way, Mr. Allan,” he pleaded, un
steadily. “I have made millions for
the syndicate, and it isn’t fair to talk
about embezzling when I make a mis
take. I knew you needed money, and
I was desperate to get it, and it led
to making mistakes that I couldn’t—”
“That’s enough. Wolf,” interrupted
the chief, half raising his hand. "You
know perfectly w'ell that the syndi
cate will back you up without a word
in any losses you incur when you are
handling the syndicate’s money for
the syndicate’s profit to the best of
your ability. In this case you were
not doing that.”
“But. Mr. Allan, that isn't true!”
cried Wolf, desnerately. “I have al
ways worked for the Syndicate in
everything that ”
“Drop it, Wolf,” snapped Allan.
“I’m tired Of listening to these lies.
You aren't even man enough to own
up. You have been speculating on
your own account with the Syndi
cate’s money. You have deposited
these sums, aggregating something
like $10,000,000—and w*e don’t know’
yet how' much more—in European
banks in the name of Wolfson—not
the Tunnel Syndicate. You have been
gambling w'ith money that we need—
cash that w T e need badly, and you’ve
lost it. You’re a plain crook—and if
you’re alive by this time to-morrow,
you’ll be arrested. Now—get out!’”
At these words Wolf’s returning
confidence dropped from him like a
mask. He got unsteadily to his feet.
“What?” he gasped. “Me—arrest-
ed!'
“I hope not,” replied Allan, with
sinister meaning. It was a sentence
of death—and so Wolf understood it.
But he 9aw one ray of hope and
grasped at it.
“But you can’t mean that! he
pleaded, desperately. “Think of all
the work that 1 have done and that
remains for me to do for the Syndi
cate. Why, I’ve made millions for
you and ” . ,
“That was your duty, cut in Al
lan, mercilessly. “You were paid well
for that.”
“Certainly! certainly!” agreed
Wolf, with pitiful eagerness. “But
this—this last—doesn’t amount to
very much, Mr. Allan. It can be
fixed up in a few months—and I am
the only man who can do it.”
There was no softening in Allan’s
grim face and Wolf played his trump.
“All right!" he cried, “have me ar
rested—have me tried! I’ll go dow’n
—but the Syndicate jyll go down
with me!”
Now, Allan knew that this was the
mere truth. In its present shaky
financial condition, the Syndicate
could not stand a blow like the ar
rest, or even the’ suicide, of Wolf,
Ranson’s sudden death had ^een made
to appear an accident—publicly at
least. But, privately, it was believed
to be a suicide in just the quarters
where such belief could work the
most harm.
If Wolf’s death or arrest—and on
such a charge—came on top of the
Ranson incident, nothing could save
the Syndicate from a crash and a
money panic would follow such as
the world had never seen before.
But Allan was human and he was
swayed by human weaknesses at
times. Being a strong man, he was a
strong hater.
He hated Wolf in the first place
just because he was Wolf. Now he
hated him doubly because he was a
pitiful coward. If it had been pos
sible he would have escaped under
the cover of the death of his tool,
Ranson. And now he was x% iking a
groveling plea for mercy. Allan
thought that Wolf ought to kill him
self out of respect for mankind, but
this was not the time for him to do
it. He would simply scare him to the
limit and let him off until there was a
safer time to crush him.
“The Syndicate is my business,” he
said.
“But you can’t want to drive me to
death!” gasped Wolf, hoarsely. “You
don’t mean that, Allan. I’ll make
restitution inside of three weeks. I
will—as sure as I’m alive I’ll ”
“That’ll do, Wolf- I’ve said my last
word. Get out!”
Wolf staggered into his car and
told the chauffeur to drive him to his
apartment on' Riverside Drive. He
w'as still in a sort of trance when he
arrived there. He took three or four
drinks of brandy. The thought of
food almost nauseated him. He paced
up and down his rooms, chewing unlit
cigars, and every time he passed the
buffet he grasped a bottle at random
and poured himself a drink. He did
not know what it was he was drink
ing. and none of it had any effect.
Once, when he went to the front
windows, he noticed that a car was
standing across the way from his
own. The chauffeur was tinkering
with the engine. It must have been
a pretty bad breakdown, for the car
remained all the time he was in his
apartment.
Finally he went downstairs and or-
tfered himself driven to his club. The
chauffeur across the street seemed
to have repaired the damages at last,
for he started off after Wolf’s car.
Wolf saw him and understood. De
tectives were watching him.
A man named De Maupassant once
wrote a story in which he told of a
eow'ard who wrestled with himself
all night before he w'as to fight a duel
and finally committed suicide to avoid
it. Wolf was a coward, and, if you
have ever read this story, you will
understand what was passing in his
mind. ,
The worst that could overtake him
would be arrest, liberation on bail, a
trial on a highly technical charge
with plenty of room for clever de
fense. To the average man in these
circumstances the thought of suicide
would be almost humorous.
Winnings.
But to Wolf anything seemed pref
erable to arrest. It was not the dis
grace or the ordeal of trial and pos
sible conviction that daunted him.
He thought of none of these things
His disordered mind simply shrank
from the picture of a detective laying
his hand on his shoulder.
His distraught manner attracted
some attention at the club, but he
went into the gambling room and
gambled for big stakes, laughing
loudly and drinking much, for his
luck was phenomenal. He played, all
night, his luck shifting somewhat,
but when morning came and he finally
withdrew, he had more than $20,000
in checks in his pocket anq a few
hundred in cash of his own.
When he went out into the street
after a cup of coffee, he was con
scious that a man reading a news
paper on the curb glanced at him out
of the corner of his eye and walked
slowly down after him. ostentatiously
studying the numbers of the houses
as if looking for an address. In a few
minutes he lost sight of him, but he
knew that this man and others were
watching him.
When he reached his apartment he
was so tired physically that his mind
became truly active at last, after 24
hours of numbness. He began to
think clearly, or what he thought was
clearly. Then a perfectly simple and
smooth plan presented itself to him.
He would go away!
He knew, of course! that any at
tempt to draw money at his own
bank would only precipitate what he
dreaded. But he had his gambling
winnings in his pocket. He telephoned
to a broker, told him a perfectly
plausibel lie and had him send up
$20,000 in cash for the checks. While
the money was on the ’way he bathed
and dressed.
His idea was to go out openly,
spend the entire day in shaking off
detectives, slip into the subway, go
north to the terminus and strike
cross-country to a small railroad sta
tion and board a Canadian train there.
For an hour he ducked and dodged
and doubled in the maelstrom, and
when he was certain that he had
shaken off his pursuers, he made for
Central Park as a final test. He
roamed the park for an hour and saw
no sign of a detective. Then he called
a cab and went to a barber shop,
where he had his hair cut short and
his mustache removed.
The Disguise. v
There was a little clothing store a
few doors down from the barber shop
—over on the East Side. Here he
bought a new outfit of cheap clothes,
which he donned at once.
It was dark now and he went forth
confident that he was safe. He found
a cab at Twenty-eighth street and
drove to the address near the subway
station at Worth street, which he fig
ured would be little used on the up
town side at that hour.
He was right. When he walked
through the gate onto the platform,
there was no one in sight, but a few
moments later a man came througn
the gate. He opened a newspaper and
glanced at it, paying no attention to
Wolf. The latter was so certain that
he had eluded pursuit that he gave
the stranger no more than a passing
glance—but that was enough. He
recognized him, with a start, as a
man who had played poker with him
on the way over from Europe!
For an instant Wolf almost swayed
on his feet under the shock. Then it
flashed through his mind that his dis
guise must be perfect, as this man
did not recognize him. But that
thought had barely come to comfort
him when it was driven away by an
other. Suppose this man was one of
Allan's detectives, watching him on
his way home!
He timidly eyed him again, but ha
could not see his face. It was con
cealed behind the newspaper. There
was a rumble of an approaching train
as Wolf walked slowly past for a
closer scrutiny. Then he saw that the
paper had a little slit or tear up the
middle, through which the stranger
could watch him when he pleased!
The train roared into the station
and Wolf, with a sudden yell of de
spair, turned and cast himself under
the wheels just as the detective
leaped for him.
The Panic.
I T was five minutes after 7 o’clock
when Wolf v as "round to pieces
under the wheels of the subway
train. At ten past 7 Allan knew what
had happened. At a quarter past he
was, in conference with the head of
the publicity department, and the
provisional head of finance, while his
secretary was getting the directors
on the telephone for a special meeting
at 9 o'clock.
To Be Continued To-morrow.
FRECKLES
Don't Hide Them With a Veit} Re*
move Them With the Othlne
Prescription.
This prescription for the removai
of freckles was written by a prom
inent physician and is usually so
successful in removing freckles and
giving & clear, beautiful complexion
that It is sold by Jacobs' Pharmacy
under an absolute guarantee to re
fund the money if it fails.
Don’t hide your freoklee under a
veil; get an ounce of othlne and re
move them. Even the first few ap
plications should show a wonderful
improvement, some of the lighter
freckles vanishing entirely.
Be sure to ask the druggist for
the double strength, ©thine; it is this
that is sold on the money-back guar
antee.
J
Funeral Designs and Flowers
FOR ALL'OCCASIONS.
Atlanta Floral Company
455 EAST FAIR STREET.
The Best Food-Drink Lunch at Fountains
•fioriick’s '
W v •' '' " 'i
Preserve Your Charms
B
Don’t Let Your Hair Grow Gray
EAUTIFTTL hair makes a
beautiful woman, and faded
or gray hair Is an indica
tion of old age irrespective
of years.
If your hair Is faded and
turning gray, restore it to
its original color and youth
ful beauty with
10P Insist Upon
K5
KODAKS
OMfiiM
mmi
HORLICK'S
F(*UMm w4 Calsrs-
tun That C«* ©raiuMtf **
“lUn* tnd et
Avoid Imitations—Take No Substitute
£tsk.map
plat.? »niat*ur »nppll«a.
Ice (or out-<rf-t»iwn cuatomora.
Send for Catalog and Prtcs List.
A. K. HAW RES CO.
14 Wh t.O.II St., Allots, &».
| Rich milk, malted grain, in powder form. More healthful than tea or coffee.
For infants, invalids and growing children. Agrees with the weakest digestion.
Pure nutrition,upbuilding the whole body. Keep it on your sideboard at home.
Invigorates nursing mothers and the aged. A quick lunch prepared in a minute.
Robinnaire
Hair Dye
it
to
the
hair.
Is not a common dye
bleach or change
natural color of the
It Is n soienttfle and auoceea hri color restorer and wtll bring back
the original color to faded or gray hair, and make It lustrous and beau
tiful again Quickly and easily applied, and as tt does not stain the
scalp nor make hair sticky, no one can detect it. For a quarter century
thousands of women, and men, too. have been using H with best results.
Prepared for Mght, medium and dark brown and black hair, and for
sale at druggists and toilet goods departments; 75e. If you can not pro
cure it, sent by parcel post, 83c.
Send us the name and address of your druggist with your order and
we will send you FREE samples of the world-renewned Robinnaire
Face Powder and Cold Cream of Roses.
Jacobs’ Pharmacy Co.
Atlanta,
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MB*