Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

e ® Society Consits of Cake and Late Hours, and Doing One’s Thinking Next Day With a Piece of Leather @ # ♦T] 'Mr AT A Thrilling Story of Society Blackmailers You Can Begin This Great Story To-day by Reading This First Aline Graham, ihe beautiful daugh- r <»f U. S. District Attorney (Jordon am, is beloved by Captain Law- . Holbrook. a soldier of fortune, free .nee and all-round good fellow. Aline vo.s him. but, because of some secret her pant, she refuses to marry him. le Holbrook is at her house she re- iv. s a telephone message from Judson i'lagg. a lawyer and notorious blaclc- u:W‘-r of society. Holbrook begs Aline ’.il him her secret. She refuses and ak<*s him leave her. The message . rn Flagg has made her frantic, and . finally decides to go to his house, the meantime the reader is given a ^hmpse into Flagg's den. The lawyer loseted with his nephew, Tommy, . <»nly human being for whom he ap- ears to bear any affection. Congress- an Rowland’s butler, Jones, calls and s-lls Flagg a letter compromising Mrs. • wland. As the butler starts to leave, i i;tgg presses a button and takes a so i flashlight of the man. He rushes from the house in terror. Aline slips way from her home unobserved an/1 reaches Flagg's home. She finds the front door open and goes to his study. Flagg produces a letter written hy Aline Wool worth, the man she supposed she had married two years before. He reads it to her, enjoying her mental tor ture as she hears the telltale lines. In the first part of the letter Aline had beg ged Woolworth not to desert her. "L>o iu remember that?" asks Flagg with t sneer. Aline collapses. Flagg tells her he must have $1,000 for the letter. Mine offers him all the money she has, and an emerald that belonged to her .■Mother. Flagg refuses both. lie then insults her by making love to her. parley with this man. Perhaps wc can defeat him and go In safety.” "No. 1 must keep the letter." cried the girl in desperate determination. She doubled around the table like the hunted thing she must become. If only she could draw him for one ppcond from his guardianship of that door and then, winged by her fear. Now Read On s m i (Novelized by> (From the play by George Scar borough, now being presented at the Thirty-ninth Street Theater. New York. Seriai rights held and copyrighted by international News Service.) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. “I mean there's a way to get it." The leering face leaned closer across the desk. A new expression was com ing into the crafty eye; it was un masked passion; it was new horror to pile upon the mountain high horrors of memory and fact; it was leering suggestion to drive Aline mad with the fear and horror of her posi tion in the web of the spider. And she would not escape un scathed. "You are very pretty, my dear," went on the thing of poison breath . nd foul mind. “ * * * And mock marriages are the real thing!" The girl winced. Her helpless weight was falling on her hands that i n white knuckled on the desk, her shoulders were bowed beneath the weight of degradation—the shame of being spoken to so by any man—but most shameful of all to become the creature desired by this venomous spider creature. And still he went .»n with his offer of horrible com promise—the price of a pink letter— written when sorrow had been only a cloud on her sky—written to men ace her life with each lihe her pen iiad traced in forming the words on the pink schoolgirl sheets. ‘‘You—you’re a young person of ex perience—we could be friends!” ‘You’re mistaken," said Aline, oldly. She spoke with a breath less horror. So a man like Jud son Flagg dared to think and feel —these things about the daugh ter of Gordon Graham—about the woman Larry Holbrook loved—about her—no, it was none of these he knew —his insult was for the girl who had —trusted Tom Woolworth. • No—I’m not.' You and Woolworth had three clays together by the sea— we’d have a hundred—strung througn the year.” "There’s your money—I’m going,’ -aid the girl. Flagg interposed: ‘‘Oh, no; you’re not!” The girl looked around her wildly. She felt trapped. She knew how mad she had been to venture so far from love and shelter. A force within had impelled her, but now she was facing horror more horrible than the burn ing memory of those three days by the sea. At the sacrifice of all she had come to gain she knew she must K<>, now, at once, while there was yet time. But. from the wild moment when sbe had ventured alone into the web ■»f the master spider—it had been too late. Life held hours of which she mercifully could not dream—and for Mine Graham life could never again be the same. For every wild moment "f those three days by a summer sea for every mad second of those min xes in Judson Flagg’s den—the girl would pay, and pay full well. "Yon must stop me,” she cried. Flagg had come-between her and the door, and darker than the dark S Little Bobbie's Pa ^ IFE, Pa sed to Ma, I have got j brother August made himself hanged W a rare treet for you A lit tel Bobbie. 1 doant know about these rare treets of yures, sed Ma. I havent forgotten that county fair that you took us to. the time you tried to drink yp all the hard cider In the grounds. This Is going to be differnt. sed Pa This Is going to bs a good old Ger man picnic, the kind that we used to go to wen you & I was yung boys & gurls together. Pa s«d. Let us go & think of them happy days that la gone beeyond reecall, sed Pa. I will go If llttel Bobbie & you want to go. sed Ma, but I newer had a vary good time at a German picnic. Thare is always a band Sr thare is always beer, but as I don’t like brass mualck or lager I cant see whare the fun will cum in But I will go. So we all went to the German pic nic. It was at a llttel plals called Ol denburg & thare was a lot of peepul picknicklng. Ah sed Pa, here Is my old frend Frits Schultz. Cum rite here. Fritz. Wife, sed Pa. allow me to present my old frend Fritz Schultz. How do you do, Mister Schultz? sed Ma. Mister Schultz was awful -at. He must have waved three hundred pounds. I do all rite, he sed, aber tonight I am sad. This afternoon It rained a little, und the picnic almost spoiled. The wether is luvly now, Iho, sed Ma. I am sure we are going to en joy the evening. Always when it rains then I am sad. sed Mister Schultz. I know it is going to rain tomorrow, alretty, und den I will be sad aggenn. My poor lust September, he sed to Ma & I>a. It was raining just like this after noon It rained. AuauBt vas such a cholly fellow. Even after we found him in der barn we saw a smile on his face. Almost could I cry now to think of August. Think of July In,ted * laff. «d Ma i 'sT nwe " D * v,s > la >' now be -'- n * p " THE FAMILY CUPBOARD A Dramatic Story of High Society Life in Ne<w York Life Is too short to feel sad and pass away. Ma sed. I, this yure littel son ? ' es ' 11 is JBtel August, said Fritz Schultz. I ■ nalmed him after my brother which.Is ded, alretty. He can Play mlt yure little fellow If you vant him to. Pa gaiv me a dime & i took August over to buy him a drink of lemonade. He was a funny looking littel Ger man boy, he wud look rite at me & I doant think he was thinking about anything- at all. I bought him sum lemonade but he dident like it vary good, he sed to me Sooner wud I have beer. Not with me, I sed to him. I am off the stuff. That is what I used to heer Pa say. I tried to talk to August about the boys that hs knew & about his skool & about baseball, but he dident eeven know who Matty was. He sed thay had a cow nalmed Mattie. He newt/- eeven herd of Mister McGraw. All he sed was Maybe it will rain to-mor row. alretty, and make me sad. Why do you get sad wen it rains? 1 sed. 1 had a unkel, his nalm was the salm as mine, sed August. He made himself hanged. Then I took August back to his Pa & coaxed Pa to take us hoam from the picnic. Yes, do, sed Ma. you wud think it was a lot of Glooms out for a time. — WILLIAM F. KIRK. Some People's Names << rF a man comes along whose name I Introduced to me by the delighted , Sacketts together with his wife He I is Smith," said the young woman j was the Sacketts'* relative who was telling the story, or j wife was plainly suspicious You’re Choking Me!” ttie Girl Managed to Articulate. Tighter, Tighter Closed the Fingers. m of his own room he leered at her captor. He spoke in the sibilant flee from his handicapped and evil gloom of his own room lie leered at his victim. He blocked the only exit she dared venture, for who knew to what abysses of horror—to what vaults and subterra m an passages—to what Bluebeard chambers of grisly token the other doors would open her path? She must pass Flagg. The man’s voice had lost no tone of its evil portent —it was quiet, because the vitality of such vampire crea tures as Flagg permits of no wild bursts of passion. For them emotion must be hoarded—and gloated over in the still dark, moment by moment. A line’s terror was very precious to her captor. He spoke in the sibilant accent of a snake’s hiss: "I'll keep the letter until you can come to terms—pay cash for it—or be friendly.” The girl tightened the hold of her cold lingers on that pink mist of evil —that cloud that was bringing such storm about her head. Holding her sad little letter to Tom Woolworth. her faithless lover of six years gone by—she took one backward step. In stinct pulled her from Judson Flagg. Instinct bade her fly while there was still time for flight. And the gij-i whispered to instinct: "We must flee from his handicapped and old age. Flagg left the door—unguarded. "Give it to me,” he cried in bitter anger. The girl kept up her retreat—fur ther and further from the menacing creature—away from the door—that would be a bulwark of safety for Aline. Still she retreated. "No! It’s mine! You have no right to it! A letter belongs to the writer! You never had any right to it" To Be Continued To-morrow. Advice to the Lovelorn By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. We have moved to our new store, 97 Peachtree Street. ATLANTA FLORAL CO. Always Reliable Relief from the ailments caused py disordered stomacn, torpid liver, irregular bowels is given —quickly, safely, and assur edly—by the tried and reliable BEECHAM’S PILLS Sold eTevxwbcre. la bosei, 10c., 25c. | AM AFRAID YOU ARE FOOLISH. Dear Miss Fairfax: I am 17 years of age and know a young man two years my se nior. I have known him for the last six months and have frequently been grting out to places of amusement wiih him. Hearing from friends and acquaintances of his that he really loves me, 1 would like to test his love myself. I also do not wish to devote all my time to one as youth is still before me, with many good chances. I consider him equal to all • the gehtlemen friends 1 have, and not above them. Still ' further I wish to know if con tinuing to go out with him would increase his will power over me. CONSTANT READER. Why test his love when you admit that one lover will n6t satisfy you? If he exercises a will power over you. association with him will cer tainly nicrease it. If you admit he has such power, you admit you are in danger. I think you had better give him up. OF COURSE. Dear Miss Fairfax: I am 17, and in love with a young man two years my’ senior. We >ve a.c both employed in the same place, and he usually takes me home and tn lunch with him, and always appeared to like me very much. lie asks me for one of mv sig net rings, and I gave it to him, and in return he* gave me his ring. About two weeks ago I came in and he didn’t bother to say "good morning,” and seem ed cool toward me all day. Now he doesn't eVen pay attention to me when I pass his desk. Do y r ou think I ought to ask him for my ring? SORRY. Get your ring, and never again make such an exchange unless a marriage engagement warrants it. A DEAD LANGUAGE. Dear Miss Fairfax: Is there any such thing as stamp language? If so, will, you tell me just what the different meanings of It are? R. G. I am glad to say that few know the stamp language these days. The time is past w hen a man or maid told his or her love by pasting a postage stamp upside down. Don’t try to learn It, my dear. It is a waste of mental effort and time CASTOR! A For Infants and Children. The Kind You Have Always Bought cCLsrTfd&S/. Bears the Signature of Hard at Work. He was a member of the Peace So ciety, and he came across two youths in a back street fighting. Accordingly he pushed through the crowd and per suaded the combatants to desist. “Let me beg of you, my good fellows, to settle your dispute by arbitration. Each of you choose half a dozen friends to arbitrate." "Hurrah!” yelled the crowd. "Do as the gentleman says, boys!" Having seen the twe.ve arbitrators selected to the satisfaction of both sides, the man of peace went on his way, re joicing in the thought of having once again prevailed upon brute force to yield to peaceful argument. Half an hour later he returned that way, and was horrified to find the whole street fight ing. while in the distance police whis tles could be heard blowing and police were rushing to the spot from all quar ters. "Good gracious! What Is the mal- . - now?" asked the peacemaker of an onlooker. "Shure, sorr." was the reply, "the ar bitrators are at workl” Do You Know That— Professor Roland, of Paris, has de vised an Ingenious method of punish ment for pupils who are Idle, turbu lent or undisciplined. Instead of mak ing them remain in to write iines or do similar tasks, he makes them walk five miles. They are required to produce from their parents a certificate that the walk has been taken. The professor 1s so pleased with the results obtained that he is recommending his methods to other schoolmasters. A New’ Zealander has arrived in Lon don who declares that it is Impossible to hang him. He Is anxious to demon strate his immunity from hanging in a music hall sketch, in New Zealand, he says, he has given a practical demon stration of his ability. The Governor of one of the jails there lent him the orthodox tackle and he promptly showed how easy It was to hung on a gallows without injury. In connection with the harvest fes tival service at the parish church of Whalton, Northumberland, the time- honored custom of making and exhibit ing "The Kern Babby" was observed. "The Babby" Is made of wheat and dressed in the prevailing fashions and forms the pivot of the decorations. It has been made by one family for the past forty years. "The superstition that if a child’s finger nails are cut it will grow up a thief still prevails among Battersea mothers," says the medical officer of health for Battersea. In some cantons of Switzerland all the dead, rich as well as poor, are burled at the public expense. At Whitley, Northumberland. a policeman laid information against him self for having allowed the chimney of his house to be on fire. He proved the case against himself successfully, and the magistrate ordered him to pay half a crown toward the costs. "Tommy," a seagull which visits Southwold every fishing season, has been elected an honorary member of the Southwold Sea Anglers’ Society, aiul adopted aa the society's crest. Jones, and asks me to marry him, I shall accept Instantly and say ‘Thank you’ Into the bargain! Listen to the things that happened to my sister and myself on our trip West all be cause )ur name is Mayburn! And be cause Cousin Charlie's name is Dutton. "We thought it would be a clever thing to stop in and see the Fisks, who live in Los Angeles, and have wasted reams of paper and gallons of ink imploring us to visit them. So we telephoned from ourj&otel in Pasa dena and asked if we might come over Thursday. The sweet - voiced young person who answered the phone said Mrs. Fisk was out, but she knew she would be delighted to see us, and that w* must come In time for lunch eon. She added that she was Mrs. Fisk's daughter-in-law; so. of course, it was all right. •• ‘The Misses Mayburn and Mr. Dut ton,’ we told her. A MISTAKE. "Thursday we drove up to the Fisk house, and daughter-in-law flew out to the curb and greeted us rapturous ly. trying in the cordial way of the West to make us strangers feel en tirely at home. Greatly cheered, we tramped In—and were greeted by an absolutely strange woman who was just as startled as we were. " ’Isn't there s-s-ome mistake?’ 1 stuttered. "Isn't this the P. C. Fisk home?’ •• *it is the C. P. Fisk residence,’ quavered the strange woman. "Gene vleve told me the Misses Mayburn and Mr. Dutton and I said it must be the Misses Duncan and Mr Maywood— they're friends from San Francisco— and she said no, indeed, it was the other way—and 1 thought the long distance connection was poor and she had misunderstood!’ “ ‘We must go at once,' I said heroi cally. because L could sniff the uneh- eon cooking, and it was evidently a mighty good luncheon. ‘We’ll drive to the P. C. Fisks. How did I ever make such a mistake!’ “That wasn't the sum total of our adventures We went to Vancouver by boat and made friends with the Sacketts on board. We were due to visit the Dares, and the Sacketts were going to visit some relatives In the same locality. As the boat drew in I thought I saw Mr. Dare on the wharf, and waved and smiled at him for five minutes before I found he was a perfect stranger, who naturally seemed much interested in me ind his of me. But the real Mr. Dare bobbed up, thrust us Into a cab, and, between shaking hands and looking at his **nd gazed anxiously ted at the Playhouse, New York, by William A. Brady Copyright, 1913, by International News Service.) TO DAY’S INSTALLMENT "TrvU’ exclaimed Kitty, angrily. Before she could go on in her arraignment of masculine failure to "provide" the little <leus ex machina— the telephone- rang. "Hello! Who’s that?" asked Miss Claire hopefully. "The room (Jerk, I suppose," was the heart-w€*ary answer. "Nobody else wants me. He said I must pay to day." The bell rang again "You can stall him, can’t you? My God, what’s the good of an educa tion!!!!’’ "Hello—yes- ah—yes! Yes! Send him right up!" His voice ran the gamut of fear to eagerness and finished with a note of actual Joy as he turned to Kitty and said. "It’s Tom Harding." "Good!" The boy almost broke down. "The first one of them that has come to see me all this long week! The first one of my own people." "Hurray! The luck has turned. Ken!" "Yes—he’s a good fellow. Tom al ways was a good fellow!" "I’ll get out. You can do better with him alone. Don’t be a fool now, Ken. Nobody has any use for a piker. IT'S JUST AS EASY TO SAY A THOU SAND AS A HUNDRED IF YOU HOLD YOUR MOUTH RIGHT!" The boy was deeply moved. Affec tion, home ties, never mean so much as when they are almost lost. "It —it isn't the money—I didn’t think anybody cared. W isn't the money." "Of course, it isn’t, dear—it’s the sen timent," sa4d Kitty smoothly. Then she j hardened to practical values again—the j thought of money had softened her voice to a semblance of its old sweet- ness. "But. Ken, a little of both helps." Blowing him a kiss, she let herself out of a door that led to a side corri- | dor. while Ken set the main door wide down the hall, "Ten minutes later he was being Mrs. Dare." watch, explained that he was du at a meeting, but that we were to go right out to the house, where Mrs. Dare wag eagerly awaiting us. "‘You know where I live, don't you?' he asked the cabman when we dropped him at a corner. ‘Dares house? Sure,’ said the cabman and hurtled along to a perfectly gorgeous house set In splendid lawns, dumped us out. slammed our trunk and suit cases into the hall and drove off. "Then a cool, composed trained nurse descended on us. She was per fect She said Mrs. Dare was out for a drive, but would be so glad to see us, and would we go to our room and have tea sent up " *She can't be out,’ I told her, me chanically. ‘Mr. Dare said he had phoned her that we were on our way to the house and she was await ing us!’ "The trained nurse wrinkled her smooth brow and adopted a soothing tone. it’s the first time, she ex plained, that she has been driving since the baby came. It is three weeks old and a darling! I know she will be so annoyed at the way they treated your luggage and will have It attended to! Do let me order tea’ "‘Stop!' I said faintly. Sister was in a state of collapse against nn un feeling bronze ‘Mr. Dare is a Joker —but he wouldn’t go as far as that. Isn't this the Dare house?’ "’It is the I)arr residence.’ said the trained nurse. VERY TIRED. "Then we picked ourselves up wearily and phoned for a cab and got hot and cold for fear Mrs. Darr woqld return before we got out, and the trained nurse pathetically insisted on our having tea anyhow—and the Chinese servants got our luggage piled on the cab and we drove away. "Then the cabman got lost—and once we passed a house where people were having tea on the veranda, and, behold, it was the Sacketts and the relative with whom I hud scandal ously flirted. "Don’t bring them here!' called the relative's wife, who felt humorous, now that she had her husband saf.- ‘Don’t bring them here! They tried to get my husband ’ "While we laughed feebly and hol lowly. we hoard a great commotion half a block down. A woman lean ing perilously over a veranda rail was shrieking. ‘Bring them here! The luncheon Is stone cold!’ And it was MAIDEN MEDITATIONS. NO MAN ever smoked one cigar, took one drink or kissed a girl once. ever was able to do the sum of his life over twice. He may add a little or subtract a little, but yesterday’s reckoning isn’t altered by to-day’s numbers. ——ever knew any real Joy in giving unless it meant the forerun ner of the joy in going without. ever evoked a miracle un less he thought he could. ever yoked himself to a fel low-creature in evil without coming to hate his teammate worse than the deed that bound them together. ever was quite so accurate in talking to Ignorance as when he knew that he had an audience that could Judge him. ever loved twice—allkp, for the gypsy and the saint wake differ ent beings to life in his heart. -ever kept on loving a fool ish woman after she was so foolish as to try to rule him by insisting that she was wiser than he. ever quite forgets gentle klndne.ss. The hand that caressed him in childhood will meet with a kindly grip from him years after ward. can tell the exact opinion his dog holds of his master's wisdom. ever walled his life by any thing but the farthest horizon he could see or failed to see why a wom an should confine her world within the four walls of a home. * * * Nobody believed Cassandra-—and no prophet of evil ever won half the listeners that the flatterer who says "all’s serene” can gain. —LILIAS LAUFFERTY. Superhonest. "Sir,” said the office hoy to his em ployer, "as you know very well that my family is in perfect health, I ask you to let me off this afternoon to go to a football match." "Young man," replied the boss, "you are entirely too honest. I have my suspicions of you. You are lired.” waiting for his welcome bearer of home tidings. At last he saw Tom rounding the cor ridor entrance ids eager welocme bub bled to his lips. "Tom! This way! How are you, old man? I’m awfully glad to see you, Tom- awfully. Jove, this is something like—not just a friend, but a brother. You haven't shaken hands yet. Tom." "No, I don't think l will, Kenneth." The eager hoy drew back In hurt sur prise but the scales of his sorrow were to b« heaped fuller and fuller—measure upon measure. The joyously welcomed visit of Tom Harding had just begun! "I got your letter Kenneth. I did not mention it to Alice. I was going to throw It in my waste basket at first. Then I thought I would come." "1 am in trouble, Tom. An awful mess! We have been friends always and " "I won’t lend you money!’’ "Tom, I’ve got to have it!" The boy’s voice was taking on a note of plead ing This was no time, he thought, for false pride. "I couldn’t if I wanted to—and I don’t," said Tom. Implacably. "I want you to lend me five hundred dollars It's nothing to you—it wouldn’t have been much to me once, but it’s— it’s—everything right now.” The boy tried to keep his voice steady. But this was his last hope—it meant so much— he had rejoiced—had built so much on the fact of Tom’s visit. Kitty had been so hopeful—and sweet. “To apend on Kitty Claire!" said Tom, in deep scorn. "You!" Ken Jumped forward fiercely —then by a great effort controlled him- I self. Necessity is the mother of tact! I "No! No! I’ll swallow that, Tom. j A fellow learns to swallow a lot when h’s down!’* Some Truths. "THEN GET UP," said Tom. sternly. *'I will, if you ” "Hold on! I would give a lot of five hundreds to see you where you belong— on your knees before your father. But I won’t give you five cents to spend on a woman like this.” "Don't, Tom, please—you don’t un derstand, Kitty May is ’’ "Kenneth, I understand all too well just what your Kitty May is! I under stand too well what her damnable spell is making of you! Haven’t I suffered for the skeleton in your cupboard? Why, boy, 1 love your sister—as you can’t understand the word ‘love’—yet. Alice was to have been my wife until, between you, Kitty Claire and you, you managed to break up your family and j make Alice so ashamed of her name that she is even afraid to exchange It for mine!” Ken ceased his tone of pleading. Pride—false prid<- came to the rescue, and, like the foolish young Chevalier Bayard he was for a worthless woman's sake, he became stern and strong. There Was a fine strain In the boy—If only a good woman had strengthened that mere strain to warp and woof and fiber of fineness and strength. "That’s enough! I’m groveling to you, Tom. for money right now—right in the dirt—pr I’d do my best to kill you for what you have just said! Miss May —or Miss Claire, as you choose to call her—has lived here for five weeks In the very next apartment as much re spected by me—I swear to that—as my sister is by you." "Ken!" said Tom, deeply moved by the boy’s innocent, ignorant, hopelessly misplaced faith. "Ken. my boy! I don’t know what I can say to you—it is all so hopeless You are like a blind man—I can’t hope to make you see! I WONDER WHAT WILL OPEN YOUR EYES?" "Five hundred dollars. Tomf Give It to me--then go! I’ll pay it some time— somehow -every cent!” "Will you come with me to your father. Ken? Ken. KEN. WILL YOU COME TO YOUR FATHER?" In fear the boy answered--but he lit tle knew what his prophecy meant. "You don’t know what you are ask ing! I couldn’t go to him—and nothing would ever bring him to me! Nothing but death!” he added in an awe-struck undertone. "Ken! I know this much! Some thing happened between you here in this room that day that has made Charles Nelson an old man! I don’t know what it was. 1 don’t want to. But this I do know—he will forgive you.” "He couldn’t!” murmured Ken in nightmare horror of that blow that haunted him now—waking or sleeping. "You’ve got him wrong. Ken, you and your mother. I know him. Worked with him for years—fell in love with his daughter because she was so much his. I'd thank God for him if I were his son. I would never say or feel that this man had done one wrong thing in his life. I'd say—he’s a man—a very human man—big enough to be for given—bijf enough to know how to for give! That's what I came here to tell you. Kenneth. I wish I dared say it to yqur mother—although—take it from me—he's better off without either one of you!" "Perhaps. I don’t know Perhaps. Tom, it all seems wrong—and hopeless, somehow.” "He’s been doing a man's work since the heavy load of an expensive family that he carried uncomplainingly all these years has been taken off his back. Why. Kea when I didn't suspect his money troubles, although I was his partner, your mother reproached me for my ignorance because I was almost his son- i in-law. I had to be rude to a woman, for I told her she should have known since she was ‘almost his wife.’ ” "It's all very true, I suppose, Tom— but what’s the good now? It’s all a bit too late,” said Ken. with a fixed glaze coming over his eyes. "You won’t lend me five hundred—well, what's the use of all this?” "Ken, here Is the key why I won’t give you what you want. Your father is going to make ten times as much money as the old firm ever made. He is a man who is bound to succeed when he isn’t shamefully handicapped. BITT AMONG YOU—YOU’VE BROKEN HIF HEART! THAT’S WHY I HAVE NO ESPECIAL SYMPATHY FOR YOU— ANT) YOUR BUNGLED LIFE! THAT. AND THE FACT THAT ALICE CAN’T LEAVE HIM—AND SO WE ARE PAY ING YOUR DEBT—ALICE AND I! SO I'VE NO MONEY FOR YOU. KEN, WHILE THINGS ARE LIKE THIS!” He turned abruptly a nd left the room. Kenneth sank into a chair—desperate, his last hope gone, his last home tie cut -and all for Kitty Claire. Kitty Claire had kept her word: "I’ll get you, Charlie, if it’s the last thing I ever do!” There was a timid knock at the door. Kenneth remained sunk in despair. An other knock Then the door opened gently—and Mary Burk stepped into the room. To Be Continued To-morrow. SHE OFTEN PRAYED TO DIE But Friend Comes to Res cue With Some Sound Ad vice, Which Was Follow ed With Gratifying Results. Nettleton, Ark.—"My troubles date back five years,” says Mrs. Mary Bentley, of this town. "I was first taken with awful pains in my right side, headache and backache. The pain from my side seemed to move down my right limb, and settled in the right knee. Then it would move back, and once a month I would al most die with pain. "I was told I had tumor, and wou’d have to undergo an operation at once. It Just seemed I could not submit to it. I often prayed to die. It seemed that nothing would give me the de sired relief, until finally I was ad vised by a friend to try Cardui, and it Is undoubtedly curing me. I have only used three and a half bottles, and It Is a pleasure to tell of the beneficial results. "I shall ever spread the good tid ings of what Cardui has done for mu, and will do for other suffering ladles, if they will only try it.” You can depend on Cardui, because Cardui is a gentle, harmless, vegetable tonic, that can do you nothing bui good. Prepared from herbal Ingredients, Cardui has a specific effect on th** womanly constitution and puis strength where it is most needed. Try Cardui. N. B. Write to: Indies’ Advlsorj Dept.. Chattanooga Medicine Co., Chat tanooga Tenn., for Special Instructions, and 64-page book, "Home Treatment fop Women," sent in plain wrapper, on r** quest.—Advt, j