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e Even You Old Scrooges Must Admit There Is Nothing in This h World as Empty as an Empty Stocking V N -d, s AT D/ \ \/ A Thrilling Story of A 1 o/ I Society Blackmailers Youth and Age CoinTifht. InternatHn*! New* Ker»lc«. in’ XKLI. BKIXKLKY (Novelized by> i.lav by George Hear- V»«li: k presented at the /From the • M K'l • now . Thirty-ninth Street Theater, New York. Serial right* held and copyrighted by International News Service.) TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT. “Honest, air.” said Tommy in grow ing fear of this big. firm man. "Who’s been here to-night?" thun dered the Interlocutor. For the briefest second the boy hes itated. and Holbrook caught his eye. “A man,” said Tommy. “What's his name?” Again the boy hesitated “I don’t know," he said at last In a breathless tone. The Chief looked for a flickering mo ment from the soldier to the boy. “Did he come before or after I was here?” asked Holbrook In the matter- of-fact tone of a seeker after knowledge Tf*e Chief betrayed surprise. HOL BROOK HAD BEEN HERE—WHY. he wondered. Aloud he said - “You were here to-night, Captain?" "Oh. yes. Chief, but the boy said Flag* wasn’t at home.” Then address ing Tommy, he continued in a per fectly pleasant tone: “Ar^ I’ll bet you lied to pie when you said it—didn’t you?" “He—he didn’t want to see you again," murmured poor Tommy. The Chief looked thoughtfully at Hol brook. I^ter they would both remem ber Tommy’s admission. The Captain continued his question ing: “But who was the other man who came after I did?” "I don’t know, sir." ”Ah, yes you do! Out with It! His name!" thundered the Chief. “.lores," whimpered Tommy. "What did he want?" Tommy hesi- taTed. "Got any handcuffs, Donnell?" “Sure, Chief." "Please don’t!" cried Tommy in hor ror. "He sold my uncle a letter! It’s In the. drawer, there!” On the Rack. Chief Dempster opened the letter and smiled with an Ironical twist of his grim lips. Now that It was too late for the court of law now that Jutson Flagg was claimed by the higher law—the proof of hiH despicable blackmailing lay In his hunter’s hand. "Who killed your uncle?" he shot at Tommy with disarming suddenness. "1 don’t know. sir. He called me—I was In bed and " "What time?" "About eleven, I think—I opened the door and answered " "Ami then?” went on the Inquisitor. “I hurried down—-and uncle was dead." The boy sobbed out some of his forlorn aloneness. "Then I opened the window and called ’police.’ " Donnell grinned: "You could have heard 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 here at all?" "No, sir,” asserted the frightened boy W'ith certainty. He wondered dully if they would try to fasten the crime on him—why, he had loved his Uncle Jud— and he was alone now—surely they could not in’end taking him off to the prison. "Only one answer, Chief," broke in Holbrook, with calm assurance. The more bitterly certain he became of the *rue answer, the more desperately he wondered if he could make the trail lead away from the girl who must not be hunted, hounded by the death of the blackmailer as she had been by his life. "This rose! Where did this come from?" went on the inexorable ques tioner. Breathless stillness for a moment. I-arry wondered if his heart was likely to ruffle the tucks on his frilled shirt. “1 don’t know, sir. My uncle didn’t have any roses.” As if in sooth a spider would have a pretty taste in pink roses! "He might have bought out a florist after you went upstairs,” declared Larry A Danger Line. did not flinch Now now' was the mo ment when he must decide—and decide quickly, what to IX). The Telephone Call. But Tommy shook his head vaguely. The chief tried another tack. "When did she call?” "While the man was here, about hall past 10.” "Was she to come here?" "i think so.” Chief Dempster allowed himself the relaxation of a full smile. "Now will you be good, Captain?" He ermsed to the telephone while Hol brook turned the battery of his ques lion marks on Tommy. But mercifully enough, the lad had no more to tell;* and "central" seemed a bit uncertain about tracing the call that had been received on Flagg’s phone at 10:30. But now there entered a new sleuth hound to' ferret out the scent of the trail. Inspector McIntyre camo 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 hopelesAly ugly and the trail he had tried to confuse lay so hopelessly plain. Would the Govern ment’s hunting dogs give tongue soon would the pitiless pack of the law fol low the scent? For this is what Demp ster said: "Murder—and a tough proposition, too.’’ To add to the danger—there was a plain clothes man detailed to give the whole house his a&reful inspection. And now Tommy’s examination was resumed. Even the reflection that Tommy probably liked It no better than he did was of small cheer to Allne’s J self-appointed protector. “Tommy, is this a flashlight for that camera?” “Yes, sir." “Where do those wires run?” “The desk." "Oh—did he take pictures?" Tommy nodded. “Himself?" Tommy nodded again "What for?" "T—I don’t know, sir.” “Take any to-night?” "I—I—think so.” “Out with it, kid," thundered the chief. “The man’s picture” . . . stumbled | off Tommy’s gray and twitching lips. i “Tell us about it quick, or you’ll * get a free ride," said the Inspector, tak- ; lng a hand In the game. “The camera stayed up there—on the to]> of the bookcase with a plate in 11 and the flashlight ready-—my uncle al ways took anybody’s picture when they first came to see him.” “Did he get mine?” asked Holbrook j with a flash of the wit that no dlffl- j culties could ever quite restrain. "No. sir.” “Go on,” .said the Inspector, who did not consider this the time for jesting. “My uncle Just pushed the button ar.d the camera opened and the flash exploded. When my uncle called me, I heard the flash—and I heard my un cle say: ‘I get your picture for the police!" And at the awful possibilities of the single sentence, Holbrook’s staunch heart went dizzy and faint. m 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 J Or, as Holbrook pictured it, the blood ed dog was nosing out the scent—and he would follow It to the death. "That’s the stuff -there was your powder-smoke, Captain. ’Get your pic ture for the police’—don’t sound like suicide, does it. I>arry, me boy?" He laughed In triumph. "No—It sounds like a pipe dream to me.’’ sai<l Larry the dauntless “Take charge of that cumera, Don- nell.” ordered the Inspector. “And don’t let It out of your hands a second.’* “Yes sir,” said I>onnell, taking the camera carefully In his left hand and keeping the right arm ready for at tack or defense. For ubsolute safety be rested the camera on h high chair back and held it full In the range of his unwavering eyes. Holbrook wondered idly how many men an ex-soldier could handle. AncU The chief chose to ignore him. That * then he decided that the diplomat s worried our Irishman a bit. Never a j waiting game must be his. hit did he mind being disputed, refuted | "What’s n that room asked the In- oven—but to be ignored, that showed that the chief was doing his own think ing along a line of his own—a' danger line. “You didn’t hear the outside door be fore or after you came in here?" “No, sir.” “You opened the window right away?" 1 “Yes. sir.” "And you stayed at the window until you saw the police coming?" "Yes. sir." “And you didn’t, Donnell?” "No. sor " The chief spoke with quiet certainty that fell on Holbrook’s heart with dead, ly force. “BEFORE THE BOY GOT THE WINDOW OPEN SHE MADE THE CORNER.” “SHE Chief?” inquired the captain, with 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! YOU THOUGHT SO YOURSELF WHEN YOU FIRST CAME IX!" “I thought so? Oh, Chief, you’re jesting I thought "You caught perfume In the air!” Holbrook countered easily. "Perfume isn’t confined to women.” He sniffed • t That. "I think a woman called my uncle on the phone,” ventured Tommy “Ah, the arrant young cub, now,” thought Captain Larry. "If 1 couldn’t discipline him for that volunteer serv ice!” “Who was she?” snapped the chief I quickly. Holbrook’s knuckles whitened—but he spector in a curt tone. Then, still more curtly, lie pushed Tommy before him into the darker inner den of the dead spider. 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 the camera, and the hopeful fighter for a lost cause. Larry Holbrook came and stood by the side of this other Irishman. On his face was a cordial smile that was just matched by the unctuous one on Donnell’s countenance. I^arry’s fingers were twitching to he at that camera. Donnell’s fingers were firm on it. “Didn’t ye have a brother named Mike Donnell in the Fifth Cavalry?" begun Captain Holbrook, in a pleasantly con versational tone. ’ No, Captain.’’ replied the guardian of the place, smiling. Holbrook took a judicial survey of the other man. "Indeed? Well, ye favor each other very much ” The bit of a brogue w as very much in evidence for its brotherly effect. Quite casually now he began to ex amine the camera “Old fashioned sort of a contrivance that—eh, Donnell?” “Looks like a good one, though,” re turned Donnell with due Importance. ”’Tis—German lens ” And now, hav- ing seen just enough for his purpose, Captain Holbrook changed the subject with disarming purposelessness. "This Donnell I knew in the army used to be on th»* New York police lone,” the figures twitched toward the camera again. But Donnell's eyes were twin watch dogs. To 3e Continued To-morrow, THE FAMILY CUPBOARD A Dramatic Story of High Society Life in New York (Novelized by) he is * ■' <t (From Owen Davis' play now being pre- sented at the Playhouse, New Y ork, by WlHiam A. Brady.—Copyright, 1913. by International News Service.) *y h s'cf' jr 4 /v: -7Tt Hr, 1 fo'v TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT Wr ! ^ (T ^ i rV _... Yv\\ . ■ fj P > cY ‘%o < ‘5^ 0 r’ ■ VJ Si ,!rU <A tP TJ w'Mr- ■ J "'A v ' c/ \r ii V: f ((t. — - -VS . bJ 'l * N? S ' X VI nrM J teaglbgl' fi-t~ “She’s Just the same with, me—quits me cold, like this—then bimeby, she'll come back and (five me all she's got. Kenneth looked up, his attention sud denly arrested, his mind focussing on ".lames.’ 1 “Why should she give you anything?" "I'M HER 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 fathpr! He laughed bitterly. He had sacrifleed so much—for so little. Tie had Judged his values with such youthful eoeksure- ness. He had turned his back on the old life he knew—he had driven away at last even a fine 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. lie went on with a sort of meek resignation that, if either of them had known it, was own hum brother to Ken's attitude of hopeless helplessness. "Sure! I'm her father. She's ashamed to have the gentlemen know It, so she takes me as a servant when she’s keepin' 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. "Workin’ 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 of 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 suf focation. Now he whirled about, and came | quickly—almost menacingly toward Jim. • NO! NO! HE DIDN’T DIE!” cried with his bitter certainty. “Sure he did! Su-re!" said Jim pa tiently. “I was to his funeral. Fine big feller—name of Sam Livingstone. Big, Sam Livingstone " Completely overcome — with wav* 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 days and nights—for this—woman—with bit- terness cloudlnq his eyes and wrenching at the foundations of his mind, Ken sank—spent, weary, baffled and beaten into the only refuge he could hope for now—the relaxation of his deep old chair! THE TRUTH AT LAST. And truth was a two-edged sword to smit* himi His Only Thought. “Then there was ” went on Jim, with the shameless relish of the scan dalmonger 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 morel" There was no mirth n Ken's laughter. But to him it seemed that he was a suc cessful raconteur—and with delight in the success of his story telling he wfcnt on. Hew could he tell a mind was breaking before him? “She’s drifted around, sort of, for jha last ten years. She’s a bit older than she lets on, but she never says ary thing—she’s smart, but she’s always on tlie move. I think a lot of Kitty. I}ut —she ain’t—always very good to me!* The maudlin old weakling knew no shame for what his daughter was. js'o horror of how she came by the means for being "good” to him—he only frit terror and resentment at being desefi- ed, left In the lurch now. Perhapp perhaps that she had such a father wa? To Be Continued To-morrow. •tr' \i 11 e'-'IA 100 STORES WHERE YOUR CREDIT IS GOOD Y OUTH Is thankful that it has VOUT11; thankful for the faery things that go with it; for the dreams that are; for the things that are to be; for the daring that swells its heart and takes Oid Time by the beard; for the stir and the strife of life; for red blood and love; for the colors and flowers and gems that go with this decorat ing-time of life; for the mighty joy of TO-DAY and most of all for the high, delicate hopes of what IS TO COME! Age is thankful that its feet and body are warm—that a soft chair closes it round; thankful for the things that it has known; for the 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 that it has found; for the youth that sometimes surrounds it; for a line old book and the crackling hearth—and, most of all, for the end of strife for the warm, even heart-beat that finds pleasure in meditation and feels no more the to'rmenting, 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! Sai!i Mil! A Widow in Distress The Manicure Lady .«£ By WILLIAM F. KIRK. By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. “I Dear Miss Fairfax: v I am a young widow, 28 years of ago*, and for the past three years a man has been trying to induce me ot marry him. 1 re fused him repeatedly, telling him that I did not intend to marry anyone. He induced me to prom ise that if I ever married I would marry him. Some time ago 1 met a man whom I love very much, und married him. Since then the other ban has become a wreck ami says lie can not live without me. 1 love mv husband very much, and he loves me, but 1 can not he happy knowing that the other man is unhappy on account of me. He says that if I would let him see me sometimes It would make it easier for him. Please advise me if it would be right if I should let him see me. some - easier S O if you should see him times it would make it for him—would it? Well, how about making it easier for you? And then the man you’ve married— what about him? You've promised to love and honor him. Do you think you would be honoring him if you saw this other man just because the other man wants you to do so? When you married your husband you gave up every sentimental obli gation you ever owed or might, could, would or should owe to any other man on earth—as long as that hus band is alive and you live with him This man who is anxious to have you think about him when he knows you are married and ought to forget him isn’t worth anybody’s thought — for a single minute. If he was. he would try to help you —not try to harm you. He knows perfectly well that he is asking you to do something you have no right to do at all—something which w Ill get you into trouble just so sure as you even consider it for a minute. Who is he that he dares presume so far? When you married your husband you were through once and for all with this man—don’t see him again at all—if you can help It. Don’t risk a good home and a good husband for the sake of a vain fool who wants to make you appear as silly as he is. F that wart ever comes in here again and gets into my chair he 'will think he is getting , shaved at Fish’s Eddy by the oldest 1 Inhabitant.” «ai<l the Head Barber, ! glaring after a retreating figure. ! “This U the fourth time he has been In here and I have caught him every ! time. He wants more waiting on than Caruso, and he ain’t kicked in with the sign of a tip one of the four | timed. Wait till I catch him In this chair again!" “You should he more patient and gentle, George,” said the Manicure ! Lady, soothingly. "As we journey through life we ran into a lot of queer nuts, and you must treat then? kind of forbearing, the way you would treat a lost child. That’s the way I go along, and I find that it makes me more happy than putting the bee to folks that is a thorn in my side." "I ain’t never noticed. that you have any patience to sell,” declared the Hoad Barber. ”1 have heard you recent enough telling some guy where to get off.” “Never unless I have plenty of vo cation, George,” said the Manicure Lady. "It takes a awful lot to get mo. When I ain’t got perfect control of my temper of course there is tory one day and he saw a old fel low there that used to work beside him when they was boys together. That was when father was poor and the factory was small He asked the old fellow if he was still working at the same job, and the old fellow said he was. ‘Well,’ says father, ’you have worked long enough. Go home and rest from how on, and you will get your check just the same every week.’ "That’s the kind of a sport my father is. George, but that ain’t the end of the story. For about six months he didn’t see no more of the old fellow, and kept sending his check regular, but at the end of the six months the old fellow actually had the nerve to come to him and say that he thought he ought to have a raise! Father thought he was Joking at first, but the old fellow explained that on account of the high cost of living he had to have a raise. Now IJ he had kept on slaving In the fac tory he wouldn't have ever asked fop in <Time that y " No ." ‘ Up-to-Date Jokes "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 a tennis ball to a lemon. Why, one day she sat on a piece of ice and hatched .put two quarts of hot water. ’ “That doesn’t come up to a club footed hen my old mother once had,” said one of his hearers. “They had been feeding her by mistake on saw dust instead 'of oatmeal. Well, she i Well, laid twelve eggs and sat on them, and when they were hatched eleven of the chickens had wooden legs and the twelfth was a woodpecker." 71 1-2 WHITEHALL ST. (Upstairs.) Men’s and Women’s Clothing Just In For The Holiday Trade a raise. Can you beat that? ’I suppose your father gave him x raise." said the Head Barber. “He did not," said the Manicure Lady. "Father tied a can to him and ain’t never saw him since. You wouldn’t think any man would o« hoggish enough t 0 ask for a raise when he was pensioned, would you?" *T d think anything." said the Head Barber, gloomily. "Maybe he is ;he times when 1 burn up a little, but as , father of that guy 1 just shaved." a relo i try to be k n and gentle t( 1 K * "■ — nil which comes Into my daily life. 1 j Going Cheap. A clever lawyer succeeded in win ning his client’s case and getting the better of a rather bumptious barris 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 remarked, in a loud and spiteful tone: “Sir. is there any case too dirty for you. or any criminal so much dyed ou won’t defend?" the other, in a quiet | tone. "What have you been doing now ?” The purchasing power of 1CD 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 of Women’s Coals, Suits, Millinery 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. Ill \ < I believe I will live longer that way, and as Robert Moore the Scotch poet, once wrote: 'As we journey through life, let us live quite a while.' '* “I don’t expect tip*) from every one. said the Head Barber, "but when a man wants n lot of extra service he ought to dig down and pay for It That’s what gets my goa* a man wanting the whole barber shop ar.d th-*n sneaking out without paying me nothing extra 'or my trouble." "There is folks in this world *hat the more they get the more they ex pect," observed the Manicure Larly. “The old gent was telling mother and me last night about a fellow that worked for him It seems that the old gent was goln. through hu, fac- Some time ago a man wa» awak- - weeping uncontrollably. “My darling!" he exclaimed, "what is the matter?" • A dream!” she gasped. "I have had such a horrible dream." Her husband begged her to tel! it A witty judge declared recently that “a patriot was a man who re-II fused to button his wife’s blouse. A J | martyr,” he went on. "Is one who at tempts and fails, while a hero tries and succeeds." “Then, what is a coward?" asked a| curious bystander. "Oh, a coward," replied the judge, i I Smart Coats $12 to $27 Oiever Suits ...$12 to 830 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 SUITS AND OVERCOATS “is a man who remains single so that I he won’t have to try." IFOR MEN "I am thinking of touring in South ■ Africa next season,” remarked the co median. "Take my advice and don’t," replied j the villain. "An ostrich egg weighs I from two to three pounds." AND BOYS to him in order that he might com fort her After long persuasion she was Induced to say this: "I thought 1 was walking down the street, and I came to a warehouse where there was a larg*! placard 'Husbands for sale.’ You could get beautiful ones for fifteen hundred dol lars or even for twelve hundred, and very nice looking ones for as low as a hundred.’’ The husband asked innocently; me”" The sobs became strangling. "Dozens of them." gasped the wi'«, "done up ’t. bunches like asparagus, aud sold for, ten cents a bunch " from headaches, dull feelings, and fatigue of biliousness, comeg quickly — and permanent improvement in bodily condition follows—alter your stomach, liver and bowels have been toned and regulated by 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. fly Men's Overcoats $10 to $24 Boys’ Overcoats $4 to $10 Men's Suits $8.50 to $23 Bo;/s’ Suits $3 *o $8 Men’s Shoes $2.75 to $4.50 Men’s Hats $1 to $3 4% I i<T*rywhert. ia Uzm, 10c.. 25 the reason why Kitty was—Kitty! “She never struck you—did she? SM never struck you?" Jim was quite shocked at the thought. “No! She wouldn’t do that!" Kenneth laughed again- hysterically. “Well, T got to go look for a jolj I guess, till she drifts back again,” sitkl Jim with resign' d patience. “Jobs i.<* hard to get nowadays—all I know) is drivin’ a cab—an’ these here danjf' 1 taxis " He had almost a philosophic tone of resignation and meekness. Ken interrupted. ‘‘Here!’’ He stoeff' 1 - ami picked up the'money he had g{ i ten for this man’s daughter—the Bll? he had dropped to the floor in the erf' (ion of learning that she was Jify's daughter He picked up the roll wu bills and held It out. Jim took It wondering—and slowiy counted it.