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M ~ i
Even You Old Scrooges Must Admit 7 here Is Nothing in I his if orld as Empty as an Empty Stocking
■n
AT BAY
A Thrilling Story of
Society Blackmailers
Novelized *y)
• From th#* pl« b> George Soar- i
1 -rough, TiO-u i*ei:.« present ♦*<! at the
Thirty-ninth street Theater, New York,
serial right* held nnd copyrighted by
r.ternatlonal Neap Service .*
TO-DAY’S INSTALLSENT.
Honest. sir,'* *aid Tommy In grow
tig fear of this biff, firm man
“Who's been here to-night?' thun-
.ered the interlocutor.
For the briefest second the hoy hee-
• ted. and Holbrook caught his eye.
“A man.’’ said Tomm:
•t hat’s his name
\guin the boy hesitated
T don't know.’’ ho said at last in u
oieathlesa tone.
The Chief looked for a flickering mo
ment from the soldier to the bo'
"DWI he come before or after 1 was
•rft?" asked Holbrook in the matter-
of-fact tone of a seeker after knowledge.
Tfte Chief betrayed surprise. HOL
BROOK HAD BEEN HERE- WHY. he
Tvondereo. Aloud bo said:
“You were here to-night, Captain?”
Oh. yes. Chief, but the t>8y said
J«*lagg wasn’t at home * Then address-
ng Tommy, he continued in u per
fectly pleasant tone. “And I’ll bet you
Med to me when you said it didn’t
you T ’
‘Tie- -he didn't want to *r you
.iguln." murmured poor Tommy.
The Chief looked thoughtfully ar Hol
brook. Later they would both remom
bar Tommy’s admission
The Captain continued his questjon-
ng: “But who wan the other man who
ame ufter I did?”
“1 don’t know, Hlr.”
“Ah, yes you do! Out with it! Ilia
ame!” thundered the Chief
Jones," whimpered Tommy.
“What did he want?” Tommy he?,
aVed. "Got any handcuffs. Donnell?"
"Sure. Chief
"Please don’t!" cried Tommy in hor
ror. "He sold my uncle u letter - It’s
*n the drawer, there”
On the Rack.
Chief Dempster opened the letter and
railed with un ironical twist of his
grim lips Now that it was too late for
he court of lav now that Jutson Flagg
was claimed by the higher low -the
.roof of his despicable blackmailing lay
11 his hunter’s hand.
"Who killed your uncle?" he shot at
Tommy with disarming suddenness.
“1 don't know, sir He called me I
.yam In bed and-
“What time?”
About eleven, I think—i opened the
oor and answered
"And then'. 1 ’ went on the inquisitor.
“I hurried down -and uncle was
dead." .The boy sobbed out some of
is forlorn aloneness. “Then I opened
he window and called ‘police.’ ”
Donnell grinned: “You could have
.curd him across the Potomac."
The third degree continued.
“How long after you heard your uncle
ailing did you get here’."'
“About half a minute."
And you're sure there was nobody
icrc at all?”
"No, sir,’ asserted the frightened boy
with certainty. Tie wondered dully if
hey would try to fasten the crime on
iim- why. he had loved his Uncle Jud
ind he was alone now—surely they
could not intend taking him off to the
prison.
“Only one answer. Chief, broke in
Holbrook, with calm assurance. The
nore bitterly certain he became of the
rue answer, the more desperately he
wondered if he could make the trail
ead away from the girl who must not
be hunted, hounded b> the death of
:..e blackpialler as she had been by his
life.
“This rose! Where did thia come
from?” went on the inexorable ques
tioner.
Breathless stillness for a. moment.
• -arry wondered if his heart was likely
o ruffle the tucks on hit* frilled shirt
“I don’t know. sir. My uncle didn’t
nave any roses." Vs if in sooth h
spider would have a pretty taste In pink
’ oses!
“He might have bought out a florist
after j'ou went upstairs." declared
j *rn\
A Danger Line.
The chief chose to ignore him That
worried our Irishman a bit. Never a
bit did he mind being disputed, refuted
even—but to be Ignored, that showed
that the chief was doing his own thfnk-
ng along a line of his own danger
\*.ne.
“You didn’t hear the outside do or bo
lero or utter you came in here’."’
“Vo, sir."
“You opened ihe window right away V"
“Yes. sir.
“And you stayed at the window until
on taw the police coming'’"
“Yes. sir."
“And you didn’t. 1 tofcneli
“No. sor— ’
The chief spoke with quin certainty
•i.at fell * ! Holbrook's heart with dead,
iy force. “BEFORE THE BOY GOT
< PEN SHE M u*i:
THE CORNKB
“SHE Chief? ir., ire. the captain,
vith elaborate unconcern and the while
he wondered that nobody heard his
heart doing a reel that would be fittest
for a wake
IT WAS A WOMAN! TOP
THOUGHT SO YOURSELF WHEN
YOU FIRST CAME IN!"
“1 thought nu'.' * ’li. Ch>f. you’re
.■eating, i thought
"You «.aught perfi rr.e in the air”
fi cl brook counter**' eusily "Perfume
Jen't confined to women." lie sniffed
si that
“T thir.:. woman called my uncle on
•
"Ah. the arrant young cub. now."
oug.ir Captain Larr.' . “If i couldn't
^' soiplij ** Mm for that volunteer .- erv
nil
nhnv'Il
Captain
Youth and Age
("opyriji ■
BY XT.LI. BHIXKLF.Y
thundered me I
stumbled i
wa> she?
*ppe*
did not flinch. Nov now was the ino
inent when he must decide and deokh
quickly, what to DO.
The Telephone Call.
But Tommy shook his head vaguely.
The chief tried anothor tack.
• Wbm did ah# '-ail?"
“While tho man was here, abou
past 10.”
“Was siie to come here”
“I think so."
Chief Dempster kllowei
relaxation of a full rmile
“Now will you b« gooc
He crohHiwi to the telephone while Ho,
brook turned th#* battery of his que
lion marks on Tommy. But mercifully
enough, the lad had no more to tell;
and “central” Heemed a bft uncertain
about tracing the call that had been
received on Flagg’s phone at 1(>: SO.
But now there entered a new sleuth
hound to far ret out th»- K.cert of the
trail, inspector McIntyre came to join
forces with Chief Dempster.
And at the chief’s answer to McIn
tyre's, “Well, what have we here'" Hol
brook winced anew. For the word that
followed was so hopelessly uglj and
the trail lie had tried to confuse lay so
hopelessly plain. Would the Govern
merit's hunting dogs gi\e tongue soon
•would tlie pitiless pack of the law fol
low the scent? For this in w hat Demp
ster said
“Murder aim a lough proposition,
too."
To add to ti.e danger -there was i*
plain clothes rnan detailed to give the
whole house his careful inspection.
And now Tommy’s examination whs
resumed. Even the reflection that
Tommy probably liked it no letter than
he did was of small cheer to Mine's
self-appointed protector
“Tommy, 1*. this a flashlight 1 r that
camera?”
“Yes, sir."
“Where do tho-e wire* run
“The desk."
“Oh--did ha take picture*'.
Tommy nodded
“Himself?”
Tommy nodded ugai;
“What for?”
“I—I don't know, sir
“Take any to night
“I I—think so."
“Out with it. kid
chief.
“The man’s picture
off Tommy's gray and twitching lips.
“Tell ns about it quick, or you’ll
Ret a free ride,” said the inspector, tak
ing a hand in the game.
“The camera stayed up there—on the
top of the bookcase—-with a piats in it
and the flashlight ready my uncle al
ways took anybody’s picture when they
first name to see him.
“Did lie get mlnf*'” asked Holbrook
with a flash of the wit that no diffi
culties could ever quite restrain.
“No, wir.”
“Go on," said the Inspector, who did
not consider thin the time for jesting.
“My uncle just pushed the button
and the camera opened and the flash
exploded. When my uncle called me,
l I heard the flash—and I heard my un-
; cle say: M net your picture for the
police!”
And at the awful possibilities of the
single sentence, Holbrook’s staunch
heart went dizzy and faint.
Whose picture would that all-reveal
ing camera contain? Whose picture had
Flagg, devilishly resourceful and re
vengeful even in death, taken for the
police? Who would be given over by
that picture to the police?
The Chief was blazing his trail now
or, as Holbrook pictured it, the blood
ed dog was nosing out the scent—and
ho would follow it to the death.
“That’s the stuff—there was your
powder-smoke, Captain. ‘(Set your pic
ture for the police’—don’t sound like
suicide, does it, Larry, me boy?” lie
laughed in triumpfi.
“No—It sounds like a pipe dream to
me.’* said I Arry the dauntless.
“Take charge of that camera. Don-
i ell.” ordered the Inspector. "*nd don’t
let it out of your hands a second.”
“Yes sir," said Donnell, taking the
camera carefully in his left hand and
keeping the right arm ready for at
tack or defense. For absolute safety
he rcited the camera on a high chair
back and held it full in the range, of
his unwavering eyes.
Holbrook wondered idly how many
rnen an ex-soldier could handle. And
then he decided that the diplomat's
waiting game roust be his.
"What’s in that room?" asked the In
spector In a curt tone. Then, still more
curtly, he pushed Tommy before him
into the darker inner den of the dead
Mplder. The plain clothes men and Chief
Dempster followed on the tour of in
spection. leaving the room to the grim,
| sprawling, dead form—the guardian of
t the camera, and the hopeful fighter for
I a lost cause.
Larry Holbrook came and stood by
{ the side of this other Irishman, on
his tace was »i cordial smile that was
lust matched by the unctuous one on
Donnell s countehar.ee. Larry's Angers
were twitching to be at that camera.
Donnell's fingers were firm on it.
I “Didn’t ye have a brother named Mike
, Donnell in the Fifth Cavalry?’’ began
{Captain Holbrook, in a pleasantly eon-
I \crsatJ**nal tone.
“No. Captain," replied the guardian of
the place, smiling
Holbrook took u judicial survey of
the other man.
“Indeed? Well. . e favor each oilier
very much.” The bit of a brogue was
very much in evidence for its brotherly
effei:
Guile casual).\ now he began to ex
amine the camera. "Oid fashioned sort
of a contrivance that eh. Donnell?"
“Look* like a good one, though,” re
turned Donnell with due importance.
“'Tie—German lens.” And now, hav
ing seen Just enough for his purpose,
Captain Holbrook changed the subject
with disarming purposelessness.
"This Donne!! 1 knew in the army
used to be on t,'c New York police
force,the figures twitched toward the
camera again. But Donnell's eye* tv • •-
win watch <iog.»
To Con*-r •- T 5 r e
THE FAMILY CUPBOARD
A Dramatic Story of High Society Life in New York
[Novelized by I
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(From Owen Davis’ play /."tv being pre- j
sented at the Playhouse, New York, by
William A. Brauy. -Cop: right, l&lv. by
International News Service.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT
“►She’s just the same with me—quits
me cold, like this -then btmeby. she’ll
come back and give me all she’s got."
• Kenneth looked up. his attention sud
denly arrested, his mind focussing on
“James.”
“Why should she give you anything.' |
“I’M IIEU FATHER,” answered Jim
very quietly and simply.
Kenneth looked at him for a mo
ment in sheer horror. So. this maudlin
old driver of cabs—this servant with
his vapid old face was—Kitty’s lather!
He laughed bitterly. He had sacrificed
much-—for so little. He had judged
his values with such youthful cocksure-
ness. He had turned his back on the
old life he knew - he had driven away
at la^t even a line old friend like Pot
ter—and all for the faithless daughter
of old Jim Garrity.
But Jim was inured to insult.. He had
no personal pride to take arms for of
fense or defense. He went on with a
sort of meek resignation that, if either
of them had known *t, was own human
brother to Ken’s attitiic^ of hopeless
helplessness.
“Sure! Uni her father. Site’s
ashamed to have the gentlemen know
it, so she takes me as a servant when
she’s lceepin’ house with one of 'em ’
Who He Really Was.
“One of them? Good God! One of
them! Has there been more than one?’’
Ken sprang up—he stood facing the
old cab driver.
“Began when she was about six
teen."
"I know! ' said Ken full bitterly.
“TVorkin* in a store on ”
“Yes!” exclaimed the tortured boy.
“He weren’t a bad sort. He’d a
married her. I think—only he died.”
Kenneth had turned his back on the
narrator of Kitty's story, and was gaz
ing out ot the window- -out where there
was sunshine and clean air a man might
breathe without polluting and choking
! his lungs to the point of anguished sui'-
! focation.
I Now lie whirled about, and came
• quickly—almost menacingly toward Jim.
‘•So’. NO! HE DIDN’T DIE!” hr
cried with his bitter certainty.
“Sure he did’. Su-re!" said Jim pa
tiently. “I was to Ills funeral. Fine
big feller—name of Sam Livingstone.
Big Sam Livingstone ”
Completely overcome — with wave
after wave of horror sweeping over
him—with the cruel vision of his blow
in defense of this girl—with the awful
phantasmagoria of his misspent day*
and nights—for this—woman—with bit
terness clouding his eyes and wrenching
at the foundations of his mind, Ken
sank—spent, weary, baffled and beater
into the only refuge he could hope for
now—the relaxation of Ids deep old
chair! THE TRUTH AT LAST. Ancf
truth was a two-edged sword to smlt*
him!
His Only Thought.
“Then there was " went on Jim,
with the shameless relish of the scan
dalmonper who finds an audience to
whom his tale of horror is new.
“Don’t! Ha. ha. ha, ha. ha! Don’t:
It's too funny! It’s too funny! Ha. ha.
ha! Don’t tell me any more!” There
was no mirth in Ken’s laughter. But
to him it seemed that he was a suc
cessful raconteur—and with delight Ir.
ihe success of his story telling he went
un. How could he tell a mind was
breaking before him?
“She’s drifted around, sort of, for the
last ten years. She's a bit older than
she lets on, but she never says any
thing—she’s smart, but she's always oh
the move. I think a lot of Kitty. Bu
—she ain't—always very good to me!”
The maudlin old weakling knew r...
shame for what his daughter was. N’
horror of how she came by the mean*
for being “good” to him—he only fel
terror and resentment at being desert
cd, left in the lurch row. Perhaps
perhaps that s'ie had such a father wa
the reason why Kitty was—Kitty!
“She never str uck you—did she? She
never struck you v
Jim was unite shocked at the though:
She Wouldn’t do that!"
Kenneth laughed again hysterical’>.
“Well, 1 got to go look for a jcb. .1
guess, till she drifts back again," saio
Jim. with resigned patience. "Jo'-s is
hard to get nowadays—a.11 I kno v is
drivin’ a cab—an’ these’ here dame-
taxis ” He had almost a phlloso >hi-
tone of resignation and meekness.
Ken interrupted. “Here!” He stooped
and picked up the money lie had go;-
for this man's daughter—the trill*-
ho nad dropped to the fioor ill the emu
tion of learning that she was Jin?
daughter. He picked up the roll -
bills and he’d !t out.
Jim took it wondering—and alowfc
counted it.
To Be Continued To-morrow-
100 STORES WHERE YOUR CREDIT IS GOOD
Y Ol'ili i,“ i.iiankfiil luai .t uas YUL'TH; iiiiuikful to. iie '.o-ry
things that £o with it: for the dreams that -are; for fits things
1hat »r« to be: for tlje daring that snells lly heart and takes
Old Time by the beard: for the stir and the strife cr? life: for red blood
and love; for tbe colors and flowers and gems that go with this decorst-
ug ttine of life: for the mighty joy of TO-DAY and most of nil for the
high, delicate hopes of wha. IS TO COMK’ tg< is thankful that its
feet and body are warm—that a soft chair closes it round; thankful for
the things that it naa known; for liie dreams that came true and that
it can forget those that never did: thankful for the wisdom that keeps
its heart from hurting and loving too deeply; for the peace tnat it has
found; for the youth that‘sometimes surrounds it; for a fine old book
and the crackling hearth—and, most of all, for the end of strife—for
the warm, even heart-beat that linds pleasure in meditation and feels
i o more the tormenting, bitter-sweet flame that distracts the heart of
youth. Youth and old age; wild birds and dozing pussies—each thank
ful for so widely different things!
M
la 4 B
Phi
A Widow in
Distress
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX
Dear Miss Fairfax:
I am a young widow, -S years
of ag>\ and for the past three !
years a man has been trying to j
induce me ot marry him. I re
fused him repeatedly, telling him
that I did not intend to many i
anyone. He induced me to prom
ise that if I ever married I would
marry him. Some time ago l me:
a man whom I love very much, |
and mat i led him. Sim e then th<
other ban has become a wreck and
says he can not live without me.
1 love my husband verj much,
and he loves me. but 1 can not
be happy knowing that the of In
man is unhappy on account of
me. lie says that if I would let
him see me sometimes it would
make it easier for him. Please ■
advise me if it would be tight if 1
should .l©t him see me
O y o
for him—would It?
Well, how about making it easier j
for you?
And then the man you’ve married—
what about him?
You’ve promised to love and honoi 1
him. Do you think you would be
honoring him if you saw this other!
man jusi because the other man wants
you to do so ?
When you married >our husband
you gave up every sentimental obli
gation you ever owed or might, could, i
would or should owe to any other j
man on earth—ns long as that bus- j
band Is alive and you live with him.
I This man who is anxious to have I
you thfnk about him when he knows 1
you ure married and aught tu forget
him isn't worth anybody’s thought—
for a single minute.
If he was. he would try to help you
not tr> to harm \«>u. He knows
perfectly well that he is asking you to
do something y.»u have no right to
do a' ail something whh.it \vlip get
you into trouble just so sure as you
even co :siuer i ; f-*r a minute.
Who i* 5 he that he dares presume j
so far?
When you married your husband i
you were through once and for ail
with this man—don’t see him again;
at all- -if you can kelp ik
Don’t isk i good borne at i a *,oo--
; us band fo the sake of* ;i vain fool
> o want* to rnsjWu or*»»•• •*-
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
4 4f * c * ,i ' wart • . er comes • . here
I again and gets into my chair
he will think he Is gettinf
shaved at Fish’s Eddy by - the oldest
inhabitant," said the Head Barber,
glaring after n retreating figure.
“This is the fourth Mme he has been
in hero and I have caught him every
time. lie wants more waiting on
than Caruso and he ain't kicked in
with the sign of a tip one of the four
tlmeis. Walt till I catch him in this
chair again!"
"You should be more patient and
gentle, George." said tire Manicure
Lady, soothingly. "As we journey
through life v. e mi into a lot oi
queer nuts, ami you must treat then?
kind of forbearing the wa: you
would treat a los child. Thai's the
way 1 go along, and 1 find thar it
makes me more happy than p itting
tho bee to folks that n a thorn in my
side.
“I ain’t never noticed tl.it ; u . nave
any patieneft to sell.' declared t he
Head Barber. “I have heard you
recent ruoug '-!li;.g sun e * e 'e
to get off
“Never unless 1 Pave pient; of vo
cation G^o’-ge '' s#..ft Manicure
Lady. “It take* a awful lot . > get
n*e. When I ain't got prrfft'' control
o: my empft of course there ;s
limes when 1 burn up * little, but as
\ s and ge
all which comes irtu my dally life, f
believe I will live longer that way,
and a.s Kobe r Moo*e The Scotch
poe*. onet* wrote. As we yourney
through life, let us live Quite a
while.’
“I don’t expec. tips from every
one," said the Head Bnrber, “but
when a man wants a lot of extra
iien ft hft ou* : to dig do a n ami pay
for it Tha. s v hat *-> ; g • t—-
a :..n * ••".tin# '-..ft \ .ole oer
shop and tu'-.i sneaking out without
extra
trouble?
“Tilft e N ":»• . s w ■. ,*t
thft more The gfti ; .he uare th-- <*T
r>ft t " ' •<! i ,a.;Y
tory one day and he saw a old fel
low there that used to work beside
him when they was boys togethe
That was when father was poor arid
the factory was small. He asked the
old fellow if he was still working at
the same Job. and tho old fellow said
he was. ’Well,’ says father,* ‘you
have worked long enough. Go home
and rest from now on. and you will
get your check jupt the same every
^ eek.
i "That s the 1- nd of sport ray
father is, George, but that ain’t the
| ftnd of the story. For about six
; months he didn’t see no more of the
; <’ld fellow, and kept sending his check
; regular, but at the end of the six
| months the old fellow actually had
j the nerve to come to him and ?ay
I that he though: ho ough* to have a
j f»De! Father thought he v. as joking
*t first, but the old fellow explained
jthat on account of the high cost of
{living >'•■» bad to are a raise. Now
’ f hft had kept on slaving- in the fac-
i tory he wouldn't have ever asked for
u raise. Can you bxiat that?
1 . - »
(raise.’ said th® Head Barber.
•
’’Father tied a can tu him ..nd
\ ou
9
enough to # £»sk tot a raise
was pensioned, would you?”
“I'd think anyth g.“ said the Head
laybe * h#
)f that guy f just shaven.”
Lp-to-Date
Jokes
Lady,
ain't
wouldn'
hoggish
when in
Ha rbe.
father
Going Cheap.
3 ■ ■ • *«° “ w», iWak .
r«
weening • ..-ontrollab!; .
V1 aimed what
the matter —
-a dream:" she g«a.,. - ; c njill
ettt-n a horrible dreanr"
Her husband begged her to «»“. it
■ to him in order that he might com
fort he- After Iona persuasion s
was induced to hs.v thD
“I thought 1 wa* walking down the
•*’ id 1 ’.ame , • warehouse
w e.e :-ier* wt.*- a ge placard
‘Hu*Panes : ." i\.- ' Yu i could t>:
eautiful ones f>. ■ T. :?eru : ndre • ,u.
ars •/r even f r t welv- Av ■■ dr^vi. a
. h iiundred."
T::r i>u« Jat.u >:a.-, -'d ::.'.no-ft....
“Speaking of hens,” said an Ameri
can traveler, “reminds me of an old
hen my dad had on a farm in Da
kota. She would hatch out anything
from ii tennis ball to a lemon. Why,
one day she sat on a piece of ice and
hatched out two quarts of hot water. ’
‘ That doesn’t come up to a club
footed h?n my old mother once had.”
j said one of his hearers. “They had
been feeding her by mistake on saw
dust instead of oatmeal. Well, she
laid twelve eggs and sat on them, I
and when they were hatched eleven j
of the chickens had wooden legs and !
the twelfth was a woodpecker.”
A ciever lawyer succeeded in win- j
ning his client’s case and getting the j
better of ,i -ather bumptious barris- I
ter. The latter couldn’t conceal his ’
chagrin, and, meeting his victorious
opponent in the smoke-room of the
hotel at which they were staying, he
remark© . in a loud and spiteful tone:
“Sir, is there any case too dirty for
you, or any criminal so much dyed
I in crime that von won’t defend?"
“No,” said the other, in a quiet
tone. “What have you been doing
now ?”
I * * *
A witty judge declared recently
that "a patriot was a man who re
fused to button his wife’s blouse. A
i martyr.” he went on. “is one who at-
j tempts and fails, while a hero tries
and succeed*?.”
“Then, what is* a "ward?” asked a
1 curious bj'stander.
‘Oh. a coward,” replied the judge. 1
"is a mail who remains single so that
he won’t have to try.”
i ring ..• S ■
i Africa next seasc n." remarked the co-
• median.
- • i*e e< |
N os |g eigh s I
i from two to three pounds."
Certain Relief
from headaches, dull feeling*, and
l'atigue of biliousness, comes quickly
—and permanent improvement in
bodily condition follows—after your
aromaeii, ii\ er and bowels have
been toned and regulated by i
BEEGHAM’S
FILLS
71 1-2 WHITEHALL ST.
(Upstairs.)
Men’s and Women’s
Clothing Just In For
The Holiday Trade
W»!
The purchasing power of 103 busy
stores is back of this one. Here man
or woman can purchase stylish de
pendable clothing and pay for it con
veniently—your credit Is good here—
use it to buy sensible Christmas
Gifts that will be appreciated.
OUR PRICES. STYLES AND EASY
TERMS CAN NOT BE BEAT.
Special Showing ot
Women’s Coats, Suits.
MIHinery and Furs
Ladies, you’ll find distinctive styles
here, the kind of wearing apparel
that compels admiration. Come and
see the new arrivals—you’ll find
many a holiday gift suggestion here.
Am
. '/itE
Smart Coats
$12
to
$27
Clever Suits
$12
to
$30
Fur Sets
. $10
to
$35
Warm Sweaters .
. . $2
to
$5
Silk Dresses . .
. . $12
to
$25
Walking- Skirts .
. $4
to
$7
Girls' Coats
.. . . 4
to
$7
Petticoats
. $2
to
$5
kV
SLITS AND
lOVLRCOATS
FOR MEN
AMP BOYS
Among our new arrivals are all the latest
style materials, weaves and designs. Among
the Overcoats are the Nobby Chinchillas,
with Belted Backs and Shawl and Convert
ible Collars.
Men's Overcoats
Boys' Overcoats
Men's Suits
Boys’ Suits
Men 's Shoes
Men’s Hats
$10 to $24
$4 to $10
. $8.50 to $23
S3 to $8
$2.75 to $4.50
$1 to $3
_£SF?- THE MENTER CO. Credit
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