Newspaper Page Text
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Job, Being a Man, Missed the Greatest Affliction: He Didn l Have to Put Up
ft
Husband
! AT BAY
A Thrilling Story of
Society Blackmailers
i ~
Beauty ®
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The Value of Walking Described
by Helen Bannon.
(Novelized by>
(From the play by George Scar-
orough. now being presented at the
■hirty-ninth Street Theater, New York.
Serial rights held and copyrighted by
International News Service.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
He still held his little pocket flash
light in his hand. Larry blessed the
inventor thereof.
“Great little Instrument, Chief! - ’ said
he. “Did it—lead you anywhere?”
The chief declined to commit himself.
Had he seen that long, black box slid
ing into the sleeve of a topcoat?
“Well, what do you make of it?”
asked the chief smiling with firm set
lips. A man who smiles with keen eves
and fixed jaw is strong enough to be a
dangerous foe.
Holbrook's brows lifted like birds
ready for flight. He was easy and
quizzical in manner like a child set to
explain to his master a problem they
both understand.
“Looks rather simple to me!" said he.
“Let's see,” queried the chief.
“Money on table—no robbery ”
“Right!”
“His own paper file.” said Holbrook,
sweeping his eye over the spider crea
ture who still clutched the blood
stained weapon he had drawn from his
breast.
False Clews.
“How do we know that?” from Demp
ster.
“Receipted hills on it—below the
bloodstain. They were there when the
deed was done, and no assassin goes
about armed with a bill file. The
brogue deepened a bit. and Larry
winked with shameless friendliness at
1 >onnell.
The chief nodded “right!''
Larry approached his climax with
easy grandiloquence. “Stabbed in front
and not from behind, as an assassin,
owardly creature, would be sure to
do. Chief, there’s nothing 10 it.'* lie
continued in a voice that seemed to
be saying that he knew the chief was
fully as clever as he, and would see
this, too, so that his words were hardly
needed where the thing was so dead
^asv, so open and shut. Oh, there was
blarney in that voice—blarney—and
hope for a cow’ering girl.
••Nothing" to it, Chief—looks to me
like suicide.”
Chief Dempster smiled quizzically—
and shook his head.
“Think not?” asked the Irishman.
• Ix)ok how he held it—to stab him
self he’d grip it firmly by the base!"
“Oh!” Larry did not hesitate a sec
ond. In a duel of wits you watch the
other man’s eye and keep a firm grip
on your rapier, “lie probably changed
his mind when he pulled it out! Like
the chap who decided to end it by
drowning-and then remembered he
could swim!’’
“He pulled it out,” said the chief in
his most flintlike tone, “but somebody
else drove it in! ’
“He might have fallen on it,” ven
tured Larry.
“Why, there was a violent struggle-
see the floor!”
“Papers—only wind from the windows
>'ouId do that!”
“Wind through the window would
blow them the other way beyond the
table. They lie thickest at the table
and trail over toward the window,”
said the chief, stubbornly. He could
not quite fathom Holbrook’s little game
not yet, at any rate. But would the
chief of the United States Secret Serv
ice be duped by a lad who had once
worn the livery of the nation. And had
given up soldiering to “carry a mes
sage to Garcia.”
Holbrook never recognized a lost
cause. Hope could not be forlorn to
him. To fight, to smile, to turn and
fight again, to wrest victory from de
feat—and still to smile—that was his
theory of life. But was he fighting - to
protect womanhood from the legacy of
shame of this dead blackmailer, this
venomous spider, or was Aline Gra
ham, SLAYER, still tHe woman he
loved ?
"No," said the chief, in a tone of cer
tainty, “the wind from the window"
would blow’ the papers away from it!’’ *
“And the draft, hitting the wall, might,
whir rl them back,” said Holbrook,
brightly illustrating his point with
sweeping arms.
The chief laughed—but his eyes were
still questioning, and bis lips were cold.
He stooped and picked up the rose Hol
brook had held and found no time to
conceal.
"See this rose. Captain—it was
stepped on a dozen times In the strug-
gle.”
“One turn of the heel would grind
it that much,” returned our Captain,
airily.
“A w’hirling Dervish couldn’t have
done it by himself,” retorted the Chief
with the pleasant assurance of a man
who knows he knows.
"With that stiletto in him he’d mov#
round pretty lively! Nothing to it,
Chief—SUICIDE!”
The Chief shook his head. The par
ley w r as over.
“Call that boy!” he commanded Don
nell
“Tommy*—come here!” shouted Don
nell obediently.
“Yes, sir,” quavered an answering
voice.
The Captain kept the situation easy,
friendly, a matter of mere differing
opinion.
“The mistake professional detectives
make. Chief, is to imagine a mystery
in everything that’s not A B C to
them right off the reel!”
The curtains parted again and Tommy
came in A terrible disintegration
seemed to have taken place in the
boy’s nature. It was as if he had been
set adrift in strange seas, rudderless,
plotless. He scarcely dared look at the
dark form sprawled across the table.
There was no dignity in death here.
Ills uncle .Tud lay as he bad fallen in
agon*-, unattended—a piece of evidence
not the tomb of a human soul. And
it was still the same night when his
uncle had said. “You’re a good boy,
Tommy, and your uncle loves you.” The
boy was hideously alone now—and his
Uncle Jud was only a thing sprawled
across a table. It appears that even
a spider may be loved by its own.
The boy trembled down into a chair
unbidden, but he could not stand. This
horrible nightmare was weakening- him
too much.
“Who touched this hand?’’ shouted
the Chief, suddenly, becoming aware
of some change in the dead man's
posture.
"Not me, Chief,” Donnell hastened
to exclaim.
The. Chief turned to the boy.
“Did you touch anything in this room
before the police came.?”
“No, sir.” quavered the boy.
“Don’t lie to me.”
To 3e Continued To-morrew.
THE FAMILY CUPBOARD
A Dramatic Story of High Society Life in New York
! Novelized by 1
IERE are many pretty women
who do not take a pretty pic
ture. and there are women who
lack beauty, but whom the art of the
photographer transforms into a be
ing for an artist’s model.
And there are also women who
have beauty that is not lost before a
camera, and Miss Helen Bannon, in
“Hop o’ My Thumb,” is. one of that
fortunate number.
Laughingly, she disclaimed all pre
tensions to beauty.
“If 1 am pleasing in appearance,’’
she said modestly. “1 do not know
it,” and therein lies her charm. She
does not know that the moment she
appears on the stage there is a whis
per all over the house, "What a re
markably pretty girl."
Asked her secret, she said she had
none. She laughs at her troubles and
they fly away. Others not so wise
encourage them to stay, and wrinkles
result. She is regular in her hours
of rest and outdoor exercise, with
out which regime no good looks last
long.
She spends a great deal of her time
out of doors, and walks long dis
tances—not in a lolling gait, but
briskly., as with a definite idea in
mind.
“The shop window gait.” she said
with a laugh, “brings no definite re
turns. On the contrary. I am quite
satisfied that the woman who does
all her exercising in the shopping
district sees so many distractingly
pretty things in the windows that she
becomes a little envious, and the
otherwise beneficial effects of out
door exercise are lost in the feeling
of envy they inspire. No one can get
good effects from filling ones lungs
with fresh air. if at the same time
a little resentment is allowed to
creep in.
“I find, too, that the best results
are obtained when one walks alone.
The girl out for a brisk walk by her
self walks more, rapidly. She is not
tempted to pause at soda fountains,
and is less likely to yield to the
craving for chocolate, either of
which is a detriment in keeping the
eyes bright and the skin clear.
“ ‘Beauty Secrets’ is a misnomer;
there is no secret to beauty. Any
girl who is healthy and happy and
helpful becomes beautiful to those
she loves. Three H’s that are in
valuable to the girl who longs for
beauty: Health, Happiness and Help
fulness.”
A Second-Hand Christmas
By JAMES J. MONTAGUE -
FOOD FOR MUSCLES,
BONES AND FLESH
Now’s the time to make sure that
your children get all the food necessary
to build up their muscles and bones and
put on flesh. Their physical future depends
largely on what they eat now.
There's more real attrition in a l()c package of
Faust Macaroni than in 4 lbs. of beef—prove it by
your doctor.
FAUST
is extremely rich in gluten, being made from Durum wheat,
ae cereal that ranks high in protein. Very ^
eastiy digested is Faust Macaroni. Savory,
too—write for free recipe book and
see how many diflerent ways
this strength-building
food can be served.
At alt grocers’ 5c
and 10c packages
I WISHT that I could find some place where Christmas toys was
cheap,
The only kind I ever get is off a rubbish heap.
An’ though t almost fool myself pertendin’ they are new.
An’ have real fun a-makin' b’lieve that Santa Claus is ti-ue.
It’s always spoiled the Christmas fun that I have gone an' planned
To hear the other kids sing out: “Them things is second hand!’’
I ’SPOSE when little kids is poor they hadn’t ought to ’sped
That Santa Claus would come around an’ bring ’em things direct-
I ’spose they’d ought to be content with lookin’ in a store
And wonderin’ just what lucky kids them lovely things is for.
An’ when they find some busted toys I guess they’d ought to say,
“Well, I’ve got somethin’, anyway, to play with Christmas Day.”
L AST year I found a nice green tree out on a dump downtown,
An’ saved it for a long, long time, but it got sick an’ brown,
An’ so when mother needed wood I burned it up this Fall,
For second-handed Christmas trees is worse than none at all.
An’ when it crackled in the stove, I jus’ set there all still
A-sayin’, quiet, to myself, “There goes your Christmas, Bill.’’
B UT yesterday when I went out 1 got cheered up again.
For in a dirty areaway 1 found a busted train;
The coaches didn’t have no wheels, the engine wouldn't run,
But I will have it Christmas Day, an’, gee! it will be fun
To tuck it in my stockin’ when I go to bed at night
An’ make believe that I’m surprised, as soon as it gets light.
I 'VF got some Christmas post cards, that I’ll pin up on the wall.
An’ I’ll pertend that Santa Claus has been here after all.
Il’s easv thinkin things like that when no one else is round.
To know that all the things you’ve got is only what you've found;
An’ ) do hope the other kids, who never understand
l.ikc I do, won’t come round an’say: “Aw! That stuff's second-hand!’
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX
NO.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am deeply in love with a
young; man two years my senior.
We have always been the best of
friends and are yet, but when
ever. or whatever, we are speak
ing* about, he will always men
tion. or say something nice
about a young girl With whom he
used to associate. Whether hr
wants to see if 1 am jealous or
not, I do not know. Should I
continue paying all my atten
tions to him, as he says he cares
for me better than any other girl
lie knows? ANXIOUS.
A man who entertains a girl ex
tolling the virtues of some other gill
will make a very uncomfortable hus
band.
You must cure him of the habit by
dropping compliments for some for
mer lover of yours. Don’t let him
monopolize all your time. Make him
see that you are yet to be won, and
don’t care very much if he is the
winner, or some other man.
NO.
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am 18 and deeply in love with
a young man three years my
senior, lie declares he loves me.
and me only, but lie flirts with
every strange girl he sees. He
has been known to give presents
to some other young girls of his
acquaintance and also takes
then to entertainments. Do you
think he really loves me as he
says lie does? J. M. B.
His great love is for himself. A
man who flirts is vain, weak, fickle
and silly. He desires to be loved by
more than one woman, a character
istic in a man which spells woe for
every woman who is weak enough to
care for him.
DON'T TRY.
T am 18, and deeply in love
with a young man one year my
senior. Some time ago I said
something I should not have said
to him. I have written him ail
apology, but have not heard froyi
him since. How may 1 regain his
love, as I love him dearly?
BLOND Y.
You offended, and you apologized,
and lie lias refused to accept the
apology. There is nothing more for
you to do but try to forget him.
1 am sorry, my dear, but I can not
let voti go on your knees, and that
is what any further attempt on your
part toward a reconciliation would
mean.
He Was Caxeful
Little Tommy was bringing in the
new kittens to show the visitor. He
brought the first two into the room,
carrying them painstakingly by the
tails, while they howled and spit with
vigor.
"Oh, Tommy!’’ exclaimed the visi
tor, “you musn't hurt the poor little
things.”
“No, madam. I won’t,” Tommy re
plied. “I'm carrying 'them by the
stems.”
lEroni Owen Davis' play now being pre
sented at the Playhouse, New York, by
WINIi nt A. Brady. Copyright, 1913, by
International News Service.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT
"There, my beauties!” cried he, press
ing a fairly ecstatic kiss on one tucked
pink bosom, “You will make one sure
fire hit in Oshkosh!”
Kitty came flying in. with her own
personal rainbows on her arm—in they
went, higgledy-piggledy Olck might
he an “expert packer,” but the time of
Kenneth’s return was imminent.
And while Dick pressed down the
measure full and running over. Kitty
flew back and forth across the hall
with armful after armful of her pos
sessions coming to rest in the mass in
Kenneth Nelson’s "borrowed” trunk.
"Here! Careful!! Hurry up!!!” were
her somewhat confusing orders to
Dick.
But he managed as best suited his
ideas of arrangement and hurry.
“Here we are.” sried Dick, with an
air of satisfaction. She dropped the
clothes and began dancing gayly. Dick
was humming. “Meet Me in Spoontime,
Dearie.” Together they finished the
song to their mutual satisfaction. Kitty
knelt by Ills side to view his arrange
ments in “internal economy.'
Going to Be Fun.
“It’s going to be fun. Dick! It’s go
ing to be fun!” she cried at last gayly.
Dick acquiesced heartily. “Sure it Is.
Don't leave* nothin’ valuable.”
“Leave that to me,” promised Kitty.
She ran back to her room ror some
thing forgotten.
Dick calmly marched up to Ken's
great chest of drawers and selected at
random a few of Ken’s shirts and col
lars and cravats. As he came back to
the trunk with well-filled arms. Kitty
returned with an armful of things
“We’ll need ’em for the dressing
room.” she began explaining, and then
stopped at the sight of Dick’s plunder.
Dick was quite calm and uolected.
“Me an' lilm’s about the same size,"
he explained
“He got some nice shirt studs
Kitty unexpectedly—to Dick.
She ran to the bureau and
rummaging recklessly until she
them.
“Here, put ’em in your pocket! 1
guess I gotta right to something. You
needn't be afraid.”
“I should worry!”
“it’s time to say a last farewell,"
said Kitty, lightly.
Dick fell on his knees before the
trunk—added bis plunder to its seeth
ing contents, locked and strapped it,
rose to ills feet, brushed off the knees
of his trousers critically and exclaimed:
"That was a fit job for that fool Pot
ter.”
“Come on,” cried Kitty, gayl\. “All
a board. ”
“All right, heave to arid lend a hand,
matie! I'll shoulder my end, and you
give us a lift with t’other end.”
“You forgot the piano!” said a new
voice, with a feeble attempt at sarcasm.
It. was Jim who had stumbled down the
said
began
found
corridbr while Hie looting party was ©n-
geged in its engrossing occupation.
“ITello, there!” cried Kitty, noncha*
lantly and vouchsafing no tr.formation
or excuse. “Come on. Dick!”
"All ready!” said Dick, shouldering
his end of the burden.
“Here! Here! What you goin' to
do? What’s goin' to become of the old
man?" cried Jim. Th abject terror of th*
helpless days he felt were fast ap
proaching “the old man.”
Left Alone.
“Good-bye!” said Kitty, Indifferently.
"You ain’t goin' to leave me again,
Kitty! What can I do?"
“Ishkiblbble!*' was Kitty’s reply.
Heartng the trunk with its loot and
booty between them, laughing gayly at
the old man’s discomfiture and at th*
sorry surprise they had left for Ken,
Kitty and Dick pranced lightly and cai
lously from the room. 8o they went
out of the life of Kenneth Nelson; but.
the frail of the serpent la marked with
slime and Kitty May had left poison as
well as slime in Kenneth Nelson’* life
und mind.
I’oor old Jim! Gone were th* day*
nf "kobs and human sociability! Coma
were the day- of taxis with clocks tick
lna instead of live hoofs .ana
IliH daughter, with a heart fit to meas
ure like a little human taxi clock, had
left him to his fate-left him with a
laugh. Solitary, dejected, In deep die-
tress, the old man sat in Kenneth Nel
son's dismantled room through long
weary moments. He had not initiative
enough to go—and yet he knew what
Ke.n thought of ".lames" and hi* alien
presence so far from the servants’ hall
At last tlie door opened and the mas
ter of the sorry house came In. Ken
looked about In wonderment.
W hat’s this?” he demanded
"Gone! Run away with Dick Le Roy!"
said Jim. He scarcely lifted his hope
less old head.
"With Dick Le Roy? Left me—ton—
Dick Le Roy!"
The boy’s tone took on a curious
numbness- almost a detacTTmont from
life and feeling as If this final desertion
on the part of her for whom he had
home the desertion of all his own peo
pie had happened to some one else than
himself.
Jim Tells All.
Vcs. Haiti the old man, looking at
him curiously. “Tie’s been playing for
it for weeks.”
Ivenenth sat down by the table—he
sank deep into the old armchair and
began laughing bitterly—his eyes on th«
money he had secured—the bills ho held
in ids hands. Startled by the bitter
ness of that hollow laugh, Jim went to
him.
“Kind of tough on you, but it was
coming to you. I knew that ail along
She never sticks—ah© don’t know how
The old man’s tone was curiously gen
tie—and patient, as if he felt that ho
was talking to a child w r ho had been
hurt—as if he were in the very ante
chamber of death.
Ken droped the bflls ne had pro
cured—too late. He sank forward pow-
erlessly and hid Ids face in his hands
And deep from his heart there welled
a cry:
“What have r done -wliat have I
done with my life?”
To Be Continued To-morrow.
Mr. and Mrs. Earle Maddox, of Los
Angeles, Cal., who at the mature ages
of sixteen and fourteen, respectively,
have just become man and wife, have
drawn up a detailed agreement for
their future domestic relations. Two
of tiie more important clauses pro
vide that the husband shall help v/ash
the dishes, and the wife, shall refrain,
in case of dispute, from 'speaking
hark' 1
Mr. A. B. Myers, of Millersville, Pa.,
who losi botli his hands, shot eigh
teen squirrels during a one-dav hunt
ing trip. His gun was strapped to the
stumps of his arms, and lie pulled the
trigger with his teeth.
Mr. E. If. Fenn, the oldest reporter
of the Divorce rourt in London, who
recently published a book entitled
“Thirty Years in the Divorce Court, ’
died the other day. rt is said that he
had listened to 30,000 divorce cases.
It is stated that more steel and iron
are used annually in the manufacture
of typewriters and pens than in the
manufacture uf arms and ardnance.
During the hearing of a beer adul
teration charge in Berlin, judge, jury
men and counsel each solemnly drank
two pints of tiie suspected liquor.
CHICHESTER S PILLS
TIP UIAUONIF H&CAMI A
• •m«r liur rnTjemr v
Aik for Cu M UlB.TRI‘1
DIAKONn UK A NO PlLU.f^l*
yew. kr.own as Beat, bafet. Always Reliable
SOLD BY DRUGGISTS EVfRVWHf R5
Every Woman
ie 1vtvr««te>i an d en**t<l
know laoat tbe wonderh.
MALI I P.ROS.
St. I oiiK. Mo.
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Aak} r mT4r*iZKi*t'btrr
It if he CMrv-q mr
»lf the MARYS'
*'-c*rp* etb*r. Nr’
ft**d » r.n;-p 'o'-Hco*
*<«■«. U. 'U. .i« 2L. IT.
It’s Going to Un
lock the Treasure
House of Facts
About Our Magic
Southern California
See This Key?
The Tenth Anni
versary Number of
the Los Angeles
“Examiner” will
be out Wednesday,
December 24th.
It will be a re
markable edition.
It will tell you every
thing worth knowing
about the busiest and
most beautiful place on
the continent.
It will show all the won
ders of a Wonderland.
Six different sections will be
devoted to description and im
portant. information, both for
the visitor, the settler and the
investor.
There is no doubt about your wanting a copy, the only question is,
How many of your friends shall we put on the list? Please fill out the
coupon below, inclosing 15 cents for each copy you want.
Anniversary Number mailed anywhere, United States or Mexico,
15 cents a copy. All foreign points, 25 cents a copy.
G
ET ONE
WITHOUT FAIL
r 511
LOS ANGELES “EXAMINER.”
Los Angeles, Cal.
Inclosed please find cents, for which you *ill please send (he Tenth
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