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Society Consits of Cal^e and Late Hours, and Doing One s I hinging Next Day With a Piece of Leather
MAGAZINE
AT BAY f Thrilling Story of Society Blackmailers ,j& Little Bobbie s Pa ^
You Can Begin This
Great Story To-day
by Reading This
First
A LINK STABS IlKK TOI1M KNTOK.
IFF. Pa to Ma. I have gott brother August made himself hanged
parley with thin *tna
'•an defeat him and g*
"No. I must keep the letter
W .r r. r-a ira . ..... ...
a 'are treet for vou * llttal
Bobbie. I doant know about
Mine Graham, (he beautiful dough
•*r of I K. District Attorney Gordon
Braham, s beloved by Captain latw
rer . ** Holbrook, a soldier of fortune free
ancp and all-round good fellow Aline
loves him. blit, because of some secret
!o her past she refuses to marry him
While Holbrook is at her house she re
■ •elves a telephone message rrom Judnon
Flagg a lawyer and notorious black
ruailer of society Holbrook begs Aline
to tell him her secret. She refu.*«r* and
make* him leave her The nwMsaf
fro n IHagg lias made her frantW . and
she flnalh decides to go to his house
In the meantime the reader is given a
glimpse nto Flaggs den. The lawyer
f* closeted with his nephew, Tlominy,
•lie only human being for whom in* up
pears to heat any affection. Confcress-
n art Howland’s butler, Jones, call.*- and
soils Flagg a letter compromising Mrs.
Rowland \s the butler starts to leave,
Flagg presses a button and take- a se
< ret flashlight of tfie man He rusl.es
from the house in terror. Aline alii**
away from her home unobserved anri
roaches Flagg's home She finds the
front door open and goe-= to his study.
Flagg produces a letter written h> Aline
to wool worth, the man she supposed
she had married two years before lie
reads It to her, enjoying her mental tor
ture as she hears the telltale lines. In
the first r.art of the letter Aline had Bog
ged Wool worth not to desert her, ‘Do
you remember that'’" asks Flagg with
a sneer Mine collapses Flagg tells
her- ho must have $1 000 for the letter
Aline offers him all the money she has.
and an emerald that belonged to her
mother. Flagg refuses both. He then
insults her by making love to her.
Now Read On
III I I
fNovellrad by)
i 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 1N STALLuM BN T.
•*l 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 mpmory and fact; it was
leering suggestion to drive Aline mad
with the fear and horror of her post
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
and foul mind. * * * And
mock marriages are the real thing!"
The girl winced. Hei^ helpless
weight was falling on her hand*? that
lay 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
•'feature desired by this venomous
spider creature. And still he went
on with his offer of horrible com
promise—the price of a pink letter—
written when sorrow had been only
s cloud on her sky written to men
ace her life with each line her pen
had traced in forming the words on
the pink schoolgirl sheets
“Vou—you’re a young person of ex
perience—we could be friends!”
You’re mistaken.’ said Aline,
coldly. She spoke with a breath
less horror. So a man like Jinl-
*on 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 wm none of these he knew
-his insult was for the girl w ho had
-trusted Tom Wool worth.
'No—I’m not. You and Wool worth
had three days together by the sea—
we'd have a hundred strung through
the year."
"There s your money—I’m going,
said the giri.
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
ove and shelter A force within had
mpelled her. but now she was facing
horror more horrible than the burn
ing memory of those three days b>
the sen. At the sacrifice of all she
had come to gain she knew she must
<o. now, at once, while there was yet
lrne.
Rut from the wild moment when
-■Be had ventured alone into the web
• f the master spider it had been too
ate Life held hours of which she
mercifully could not dream--and for
Mine Graham life could never again
>e the s.ime For every wild moment
if those three days by a summer sea
for every mad second of those min-
ites in Judson Flagg’s den—the girl
would pay, and pay full well.
“You must stop me,” she cried
Flagg had come between her and
the door, and darker than the dark
tiie*.* rare trssts of yures. sed Ma. i
havent forgotten that county fair
that you took us to. the time you tried
to drink up all the hard cider In the
grounds
This is going to he’dlffernt. sed Ta
Th e is going to be a good old Ger
man picnic, the kind that we used to
go to wen you <fc I was yung coys *
g .i’l* together, Pa sod. Net us go &•
think of them happy days that is gone
bet;-ond reecall, sed Pa.
I will go if littsl Bobbit & you
want to go. sed Ma. but 1 newer had
a vary good time at a German picnic.
Thare .is always a band * thare is
always beer, but as I don't like brass
muaick 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 littel plais called Ol
denburg A- thare was a lot of peepul
plcknicking
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 wayed 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. tho, sed
Ma. I am sure we are going to en
joy the evening.
Always when it rains then I am
sad, sed Mister Schultz. T know it is
going to rain tomorrow, alretty, und
den I will be sad aggenn. My poor
Iasi September, be sed to Ma * Pa
It was raining J»,t like this after-
noon it rained August vat such a
'*nnlly fellow. Even after we found
him In der barn we saw a smils on
his face Almost could I cry now to
think of August.
Think of July In.ted * lair, „ed M,
Life is too short to feel sad and pass
away. Ma sed. 1, this yme lj t t«I
son ?
ic ls llttel August, said Frits
Schultz. I naimed him after ,mv
brother which Is ded, alretty. Korean
Play mlt yure little fellow If you van!
him j o
La gaiv me a dime t 1 took August
over to buy him a drink of lemonade
He was a funny looking littel Ger
man boy. he w ild look rite at me A X
doant think he was thinking about
anything at all.
I bought him sum emonade but he
dident like it vary good, he *ed to me
Sooner wud I have beer. Mot with
me. I sed to him, I am off thd-stuff.
That is what I used to heer Pa say.
I tried to talk to August about >he
boys that he knew A about his skool Xb
about baseball, but he dident eeven
know who Matty was. He sed thay
had a cow naimed Mattie. He newer
eeven herd of Mister McUraw. All
l)e sed was Maybe It will rai n to-nior-
row. alretty, and make me sad.
Why do you get sad wen it rains?
I sed.
I had
THE FAMILY CUPBOARD
A Dramatic Story of High Society Life in New York
(From Owen Hails' play now being pre
sented at the Playhouse, Xew York, by
WIKlam A. Brady. Copyright, 1913, by
International News Service.)
unkel, his nalm was the
saim as mine, sed August. He made
himeelf hanged.
Ihen 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
— WILLlAil F. KIRH.
Some People's Names
^ ^ w F a man come* along whose nam<'
I la Smith.” said the young woman
who was telling the story, "or
•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 W est all be-
•ause m- name is May burn! And be
cause Cousin Charlie's name is Dutton'
W e thought it would be a clever
thing to stop in and see the Fisks,
who live ir. Los Angeles, and have
wasted reams of paper- and gallons of
ink imploring us to visit them. So
we telephoned from our hotel in Pasa
dena and asked if we might eome
over- Thursday. The sweet - voiced
• oui.g person who answered the phone
Fisk fras out. but she knew
introduced to me by the delighted
Sacketts together with his wife He
was the Sacketts’s relative—and his
wife was plainly suspicious of me.
But the real Mr. Dare bobbed up,
thrust us Into a cab, and. between
shaking hands and looking at his
watch, explained that he was due
at a meeting, but that we were to go
right out to the house, where Mrt.
Dare was eagerly awaiting us.
“‘You know where T live, don't
you?’ he asked the cabman when we
dropped him at a corner. ‘Dare’s
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 g!ad to see
us, and would wh go to our
room
said Mrs
she would be delighted to see us. and ‘and have tea sent up—
thnt we must eome in time for lunch- j “'She can't be out.’ T told her, me
Dare said he had
chanically.
phoned he
‘Mr.
You're Choking Me!’’ the Girl Managed to Articulate.
gloom of his own room he leered at
his victim. He “blocked the only exit
she dared venture, for who knew to
what abysses of horror—to ' what
vaults and subterranean 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 he hoarded and gloated over in
the still dark, moment by moment.
Aline’s terror* was very precious to
her captor. He spoke in the sibilant
accent of a snakfc’s hiss:
"I'll keep the letter until you can
come to terms—pa> 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 girl
whispered "to instinct: “We must
Tighter. Tighter Closed the Fingers
his handicapped ami
eon. Sh# added that she was Mn.
Fisks daughter-in-law; so. ;>f course.
It was all right. to the hoiii
' 'The Misses May burn and Mr. Dut- j n g ua y
“The trained nurse
that we were on our way
and she was await
evil
flee from
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 ~ a w ay from the door—that
would b*« a bulwark of safety for
Aline.
Still she retreated.
"No! It's mine! You Lave no
right to it! A letter belongs to the
writer! You never had anv right to
it.’ •
To Be Continued To-morrow.
ton,’ we 'old he
A MISTAKE.
"Thursday
house.
we drove up to the Fisk
and daughter-in-law flew out
to the curb and greeted us rapturous
ly. trying An 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 stianse woman who was
just as startled as we were
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 ranfa. It is three
weeks old and a darling! I know she
will be so annoyed at the way they
treated your luggage and wlli have
it attended to! Do let me order tea!’
Stop. 1 said faintly. Sister was
in a state of collapse against an un
feeling bronze ‘Mr.^Dare is a Joker
but he wouldn't go as far as that.
Isn’t there s-s-ome mistake?
stuttered, "isn't this the P. C. f*
,• j | Isn’t this the Dare house?’
■Msk ' “‘ It: ia the Darr residence,’ said
th£
no me .
•••if
Advice to the Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
We have moved to our new store,
97 Peachtree Street.
ATLANTA FLORAL CO.
I AM AFRAID YOU ARE FOOLISH.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
* 1 am 17 years of age ami know
a young man two years m> se
nior.
1 have known him for the last
six months and have frequently
been going out to places of
amusement with him. Hearing
from friends and acquaintances
of his that he really loves me. I
would like to test his lore myself.
1 also do not wish to devote all
my time to one as youth Is still
before me. will, manj good
chances. I consider him equal
to all the gentlemen friends
l have, and not above them. Still
further l wish to know if con-
t'.nuing to go out with him would
increase his will power over me.
C<>NSTA\T RKADKfV
Why test his love when you admit
that one lover will not satisfy you?
If he exercises a will power over
you. association with him will cer**
tainl\ ^Urease it. If you admit he
has such power, you admit you are in
danger. 1 think you had better give
him up.
Always 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!
OF COURSE.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
l am 17. and in love with a
young man two years my senior.
We are both empU^'ed in the
sJUne place, and he usually takes
me home and to lunch w ith him.
and always appeared to like me
very much,
lie ask® tine for one of m\ sig
net rings, and I gave it to him.
and in return ho 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 tla\. Now
he doesn't even pay attention to
me when I pass his desk. Do you
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.
I >ear Miss Fairfa x :
Is there any such thing as
stamp language” If so, will you
tell me just what the different
meanings of it are? U. G.
1 am glad to say that few know the
stamp language these day s. The tlmf
is past when a man or maid told his
or her love by pasting a postage
stamp upside down.
Don't try to learn ii. my dear It
is a waste of mental effivrt and time
Hai'4 at Work.
He was a member of the Peace So
ciety. ami he came across two youths
in a hack street fighting. Accordingly
he pushed through the crowd aud per
suaded the combatants to desist.
1 me beg of you. my good fellows,
to set lie y our dispute by arbitration
Lack of you choose half a dozen friends
Do You Know
That—
! trained nurse.
the C P. Fisk residence.’ j VER\ TIRED,
quavered the-strange woman. "Gene-
vieve told me the MVsses May burn arid i * n we Picked ourselves up
Mi . Dutton and l said it must be the j wearily and phoned for a cab and got
Misses Duncan and Mr. Maywood- - .hot and cold for fear Mrs. Darr would
they're friends from San Francisco— j return before we got out. ^fnd the
trained nurse pathetically insisted on
our having tea anyhow -and the
was the I t
Professor Roland, of Paris, has de
vised an ingenious mtffiod 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, lie makes them walk five
miles They ^are required to produce
faom their parent* a certificate that the
walk has been taken The professor is j
so pleased with the results obtained that 1
he is recommending his method* to
other schoolmasters.
—*- I
A New Zealander has arrived in Lon
don who declares that it is impossible
to hang him. He fs anxious to demon
strate his immunity from hanging in a j
music hull 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 hang on a gallows
without injury.
; and she said no. indeed
, other
distance connection was poor and she j
had misunderstood!'
" 'We must go at once 1 .said herol- j
cally. because I could sniff the lunch- t
eon cooking, and it was evidently a 1
! mighty good luncheon. 'We’ll drive j
to the P. «.\ Fisks. How did I ever
jmake 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
visit tVie Dares, and the Sacketts w
going to visit some relative* in j
the same locality As th«* boat drew
j in I thought ! saw Mr Dare on the' | i 0 wVv‘
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
scandal-
wiiarf. and waved nrd smiled at him
for five minutes before I found he was
a perfect stranger, who naturally
seemed much interested in me.
“Ton minutes later he was
bein
latlve with whom 1 had
oualy flirted.
Don't bring them here' called the
to . relative’s wife, who felt humorous.
' ’tow that she had her husband safe
Don’t bring them here' They tried
to get my husband.’
"\\ hile we laughed feebly and hol-
heard 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
Mrs. Dare."
i>wd “Do
BEECHAM’S
PILLS
•r*wtrk«r«. In b«a**. 10c., 2Rc.
CASTORIA
For Infants and Children.
Thi Kind You Have Always Bought
Bear* the
Sij*u
arbltr
"Hurrah!" yelled the cr
the* gentleman says, boys!
Having the twelve arbitrators
seifH ted to the satisfaction of both sides,
the man of peace went on his way, re
joicing in the Rt ought of having once
•‘gain prevailed upon brute force t*> yield
peaceful argument. Half an hour
iater he returned that way. and was
horrified to find the whole street tight-
• ng. while in the distance police whis
tles could be heard blowing and police
were rushing to the spot from ail quar
ters.
“Hood gracious' What is the mat-
i* t now ” asked the peacemaker of an
onlooker
“Shore. ?err." was the rep y. “the at •
bit i a* "is arc a t w • -rk '
In connection with the harvest fes
tival service at the parish church of
Whaltoti* Northumberland, the time-
honored custom of making and exhibit
nig “The Kern Rabby" was observed
“The Rabby’’ 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.
Tabloid Tales
a
MAIDEN MEDITATIONS.
NO MA\ —ever smoked one
cigar, took one drink or kissed a girl
once. •
"The superstition that if
finger nails are cut it will
4 thief still prevails .among
mothers.' says the medical
health for Battersea.
a child’s
grow up
Battersea
officer of
In s«>me cantons of Switzerland all
the dead, rich as well as poor, are
buried at the public expense.
At Whit'ey. Northumberland. a
policeman laid information against him
self for having allowed the chimney of
his house to be on fire. He proved the
■ use against himself successfully, and
the magistrate ordered him to pay half
a crown toward the costs.
“Tom m# a seagull which visits
Southwold .very fishing season. has
l" er. ele' teri an honorary member of
the Sor, thw-id Sea Anglers' Society,
arm adopted as the society's crest
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.
-c-ever knew any real joy in
unless it meant the fprerun-
giving
ner of the Joy in going without
1 —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 t^jat bound them together.
—ever quite forgets gentle
kindness. The hand that caressed
film 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 iie
could see or failed to see why a wom
an should confine her world within
the four w alls 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.
—IMAA A LAI Ft'EKT Y.
: ever was quite so accurate ;
in talking to ignorance as when he
knew that lie had an audience that
could judge him.
ever lqved twice alike, for
the gy psy and the saint wake differ
ent beings to'life in his heart.
plover.
Superhonest.
said the office boy to his em-
"as you know very well that
ever kept on loving a fool- j
■ sh woqian after she was go foolish I
■is to try to rule him by insisting that i “you are entirely t
she was wiser than he. my suspicions of y
my family is in perfect health."^ ask
you to let me off this afternoon to
go ,to a football match."
plied the boss,
o honest I have
j You are fired."
Young man.'
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT
“Try!” exclaimed Kitty', angrily.
. . Before she could go on in her
arraignment of masculine failure to
"provide” the little deus ex machina—
the telephone—rang.
"Hello! Who’s that?” asked Miss
l Claire hopefully.
"The room clerk, 1 suppose," was the
■ heart-weary answer. "Nobody else
wants me. He said I must pay to
day."
The bell rang again
"You can stall him. can't you? My
Gdd, what’s the good of an Educa
tion!! !!’’
"Hello—yes—ah—yes! Yes! Send
him right up!” f
Jlisr voice ran the gamut of fear to
eagerness and finished with a note of
actual joy as he turned to Kitty r and
said. "It’s Tom Harding.”
i “Good!”
The boy almost broke down.
I “The first one of them that has come
1 to see me all this long week! The first
I 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
.IU8T AS EASY TO SAY A THOU-
i SAND AS A HUNDRED IF YOU HOLD
! YOUR MOUTH RIGHT!"
i The boy was deeply’ moved. Affec-
j tion, home ties, never mean so much as
i when they' are almost lost.
"It—it isn’t the money—I didn’t think
anybody cared. It isn’t the money."
"Of courses it isn't, dear—it’s the sen
timent," said Kitty smoothly. Then she
j hardened to practical values again—the
thought of money had softened her
I voice to a semblance of its old sweet-
J 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
and gazed anxiously down the hall,
waiting for his welcome bearer of home
tidings.
At last he saw’ Tom rounding the cor
ridor entrance—his 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 I w’ill, Kenneth."
The eager boy drew back in hurt sur
prise—but the scales of his sorrow were
to be heaped fuller and fuller—measure
upon measure. The joyously welcomed
visit of r rom Harding had just begun!
"1 got y'our 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.”
"I am in trouble, Tom. An awful
mess! We have been friends always
and ”
"I won’t lend y’ou 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—
lie had rejoiced—had built so much on
the fact of Tom’s visit. Kitty had been
so hopeful—and sweet.
"To spepd on Kitty Claire!" said Tom,
in deep scorn.
•‘‘Y’ou!’’ Ken jumped forw’ard fiercely
—then by a great efTort controlled him
self. Necessity is the mother of tact!
"No! No! I’ll swallow that, Tom.
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?
\\ hy, boy, I love your sister—as you
can’t understand the word ‘love’—y T et.
Alice was to have been my wife until,
between you, Kitty Claire and you, you
managed to break up your family and
make Alice so ashamed of her name
that she is even afraid to exchapge it
for mine!"
Ken ceased his tone of pleading.
Pride—false pride— came to the rescue,
and, like the foolish young Chevalier
Bay ard 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—rigiyt in
the dirt—or I’d do my best to kill you
for what you have just said! Miss May
“Ken, here is the key to why I wonl
give you what you want. Your fathei
is going to make ten times as much
money as the old firm ever made. H«
is a man who is bound to succeed whe#
he isn’t shamefully handicapped. BI T
AMONG YOU—YOU’VE BROKEN HU
HEART! THAT’S WHY I HAVE X<3
ESPECIAL SYMPATHY FOR YOU*
AND YOUR BUNGLED LIFE! THAT,
AND THE FACT THAT ALICE CAN"!
LEAVE HINT—AND SO WE ARE PAY*
1NG YOUR DEBT—ALICE AND I! SO
I’VE NO MONEY FOR YOU. KE>*
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 tit
cut—and all for Kitty Claire.
Kitty Claire had kept her word; Til
get you, Charlie, if it’s the last thing
I ever do!"
There was a timid knock at the door.
Kenneth remained sunk 1n dgspair An
other knock. Then the door opened
gently and Mary Burk stepped into thi
room.
To Be Continued To-morrow.
But Friend Comes to Res
cue With Seme Sound Ad
vice, Which Was Follow
ed With Gratifying
Results.
—or Miss Flair**, as you choose to cad
her lias 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 box 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 ! can't hope
to make you see! I WONDER WHAT
WILL OPEN VmI’R EYES '
6
"Flvf hundred dollars, Tom! Give
to me- then go! I’ll pay It some time!
somehow every cent!"
"Will you come with me to y au j
father. Ken? Ken. KEN, WILL Yon
I GOME TO YOUR FATHER?”
In fear the boy answered—but he ij„
tie knew what ids prophecy meant.
"Y’ou don't know what you are ask,
ing! I couldn't go to him—and nottur,,
would ever bring him to me! N'othin,
but death!” he added in an awe-sirucl
undertone,
"Ken! I know this tnucty! Some,
thing happened between you here iq
this room that day that has mad,
Charles Nelson an old maul 1 ,j on 4
know what it was. 1 don't want to
But this I do know—he will forgh,
you.” S
"He couldn't!” hiurmured Ken ,g
nightmare horror of that blow tha.
haunted him now—waking or sleeping
"You've, got him wrong. Ken. you aiq
your mother. I know him. Work#*
with him for years—fell in love will
his daughter because she was so mutt
his. I'd thank God for him if I wer,
his son. I would never say or feel that
this map had done one wrong thing i,
his life, i d say—he's a man—a ver,
human man—big enough to be foi.
given—big enough to know how to fori
give! That's what 1 came here to tej
you, Kenneth. I wish I dared say it tt
your mother—although—t£ke it from
me—he's better off without either otu
of you!”
"Perhaps. I don’t know. Perhaps
Tom. it all seems wrong—and hopeless
somehow.”
flV'
Dn
da\
Pri
p.a
Sin
.pri
gov
hor
•ft;
, F
"He's been doing a man's work sine,
the heavy load of an expensive familj
that he carried uncomplainingly all thes.
years has been taken off his back. AVhyt
Ken. when I didn't suspect his mone,
troubles, although I was his partner,
your mother reproached me for m,
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 know,
since she was 'almost his wife.’ ”
"It’s all very true, I suppose, Toms
but what’s the good now? It’s all a bi|
too late,” said Ken. with a fixed glaz,
coming over his eyes. "You won’t lenj
me five hundred—well, whag's the us,
of all this?”
SHE OFTEN
PRAYED TO DIE
Nettleton, Ark,—“My troubles d&is
back five years.” says Mrs. Mary
Bentley, of this town. “I was first!
taken with awful pains in my right
side, headache and backache. Tile
pain from my side seemed to m " ■>
down my right limb, and settle' a
the right knee. Then it would movfl
back, and once a month I would afcr
most die with pain.
“I was told I had tumor, and wo rd
have to undergo an operation at on-
It just seemed I could not submit i*
it. I often prayed to die. It seemed
that nothing would give me the d -
sired relief, until finally I was ad
vised by a friend to try Cardui. ani
it i8 undoubtedly curing m<». I il
only used three and a half bottles, .it !
it Is a pleasure to tell of tbs benefit •!
results.
"I shall ever spread the good tid*
ings of what Cardui has done for m <
and will do for other suffering ladies*
If they will only try it.”
You can depend on Cardui. becau'*
Cardui is a gentle, harmless, vegeta *
toniv, that can do you nothing **
good.
Prepared from herbal ingredien *
Cardui has a specific effect on ; *
womanly constitution and P j| M
strength where it is most needed
Try Cardui.
N. R Write to: l*dl«g’ AdThK’*
Dept Chattanooga Medicine Co., Ch# -
Ht'.M.ira Term . for Special Instruct 1 ® *•
and $t-pMge bonk. Home Treatment
Women.' sent in plain wrapper, on r * 4
queet.—AUvt.
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