Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

> KM 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 ® <$> 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. t rp r- TfK 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 Anniversary Number of your pape** to tiie following name* Name \gffl© Street Street City Slate. Name Street City State. Name Street City State Name Street Citv Sta’e Nmie street City Stat*