Newspaper Page Text
“The Marriage Game,’’ a Great Love Story, Will Begin on This Page Saturday. Be Sure to Read the Opening Installment
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BA"l
/ A Thrilling Story of
L Society Blackmailers
Her First Proposal
NELL BRINKLEY
(Novelized by>
hr play by George >ca
t ig n being pn ented at > ha
Thlrtv-ninth Street Th* atrr, Nrw York,
henai r ght* held end copyrighted by
International News Service.)
TO DAY'S INSTALLMENT.
She raised her eyes. Htruggling
against the weight of tears on the
lashes She must look at her judge
Hut It ras her father's kind eyes she
met. and it was her father'*? kind
voire she heard saying
“W.y girl—my little Aline—my
motherless baby."
The voire broke down all her aelf-
eontrol, though only its tone, and not
its words, penetrated her conscious
ness.
“Don't scold me." sobbed the girl.
“Scold you- my motherless baby —
I am trying with all my poor might
to help you. My little Aline! I must
still question you—how did Flagg get
this? '
•I don t know I must have lost it."
And now Gordon Graham spoke
with quiet satisfaction.
“1 gee no reason to call this affair a
mock marriage."
“You don't!" cried A’ine, in dizzy
a larm
“That is a He many a scoundrel has
told when he wanted to desert a
trusting and Innocent young wife,
said Graham so well satisfied at the
laving of this ghost that he scarcely
noticed Aline.
The girl had risen and stood sway
ing in new horror.
■Wife! Oh. no, no. no Daddy!"
The man turned on her In bewil
derment.
Do you want to believe you
weren't properly married?”
-Yes. yes,” cried the girl, eagerly.
“That the man fooled you? You
want that to be true?"
■ I don't want to think that I'm his
wife—that I'm married to him”
The man answered her in horror.
“My God — I do."
I couldn’t be his wife now—T
couldn’t be’ the girl s voice rose In
the shrill crescendo of hysteria.
"Well you probably are his wife."
insisted her father. thanking his
Maker that the motherless b^irn his
girl-wife had left him had been
j>aved this shame, at least.
In a wild abandon of tears and sobs
the girl flung herself across the room
and crouched trembling and shaken
among the cushions of the grout
couch,
nh. why didn't 1 die lhat summer
— why didn’t 1 die—I can’t bear it!"
she moaned in utter grief and terror.
“Quiet, Aline you must control
yourself—MacIntyre and Dempster
will hear you.”
“The whole world may hear me—
nothing matters now—why didn't 1
die while there was time—why didn’t
1 die?”
Her hysteria was carrying her past
thought of self-control, and horror
all bounds-she bad given over all
unleashed was tearing at her mind.
"Aline! Aline*" cried her father.
“Don't you think of yourself now.
Hide your grief from people who will
use It against you. Think of my
name—our proud name. Be a wom
an. Aline • * • ”
There was the clamor of an In
sistent knock at the door.
“Aline! ' pleaded the man.
On the Rack. -
“I'll try daddy.” She rolled her
wet handkerchief into a little damp
ball and clutched it for the grip on
reality it gave And then, with
twitching nostrils that kept back the
dying exhalations of her spent sobs.
Aline turned to face again Chief
Dempster and Inspector MacIntyre.
If the wily chief observed that
Aline was struggling as does a child
that lias passed through a wild tem
pest of grief and as a woman who
faces a heritage of pain, he gave no
sign He began with a challenge
1 saw Holbrook in the hall. • • •
What does this mean?”
“1 had Captain Holbrook sent here
in care of an officer." answered Gor
don Graham.
“Why?"
“He asked to see me 1 think l
should tell you and the inspector
that 1 have phoned the Attorney Gen
eral and have asked to be relieved
from the rase all of it. If Captain
Holbrook is tried 1 may appear for
him his attorney-
"That's rather surprising." inter
rupted the inspector m a suspicious
.
“Ah. let him come in’" cried Aline
"Why? asked the three men in.
varying tones of surprise.
“He has such courage—he gives it
to me I feel safer somehow* when
he Is here," smiled the girl mistily.
The chief and inspector looked at
one another with satisfaction. This
admission meant something to them
Graham wondered how much Aline
had hurt the case.
“Keep them separate." advised the
Inspector.
“Why?" asked Graham.
The chief smiled. "Bet him come
in. Inspector.”
And so Holbrook was summoned
summoned to share with Aline her
supreme moments.
“Captain, you phoned the paper last
night, telling their editor to suppress
a denial they had meant to make of
your engagement to this young lady.”
"Yes, chief.”
"Why telephone at that time just
after the murder?”
"WELL, OHIKF. I'M ASKIN’,
WHEN WOl’LD YOU PHONE A
PAPER IF YOU WANTED TO
STOP AN ITEM AFTER IT WAS
ON THE NEWS! TAND?"
"Why glop it?" snapped the jaws
of steel.
“What was the first thing I told
you about the lady and meself?"
“That she was your wife."
“THEN WHAT A FOOD I’D hook
DEN YIN WE WERE EVEN EN
GAGED!”
‘‘Stalling!’’ muttered the chief to
the Inspector- and then changed his
attention to Aline.
"Miss Graham when did you pul
on the street dress you wore la.st
night to Captain Holbrook’s rooms?"
“When I decided to go to him." re
plied the girl, simply enough.
When was that?”
”1 can’t tell you the exact hoyr,
Chief Dempster."
"Well, we’ll let that go. Which door
were you at when you overheard my
report to your father?"
“The hall door."
"How were you dressed at that
time?"
At tins question. Captain Hol
brooks’ finger went quickly to his lips j
and he gave the childish little signal !
for silence.
"Wait a minute. You sit over here
in this < hair in the center of the room.
Captain Holbrook.” said Inspector
MacIntyre, with abrupt sternness.
The captain obeyed with a shrug
of protest that seemed to wonder
w'hat all this fuss was about, any
way.
"Alin© needn't answer that ques
lion." interposed Gordon Graham.
“You fear it may incriminate liei.
Counseolr?” asked Chief Dempster.
“T don't think it's relevant."
There was a moment, of silence-
while the Chief framed his question
anew.
"Until you put on your street dress,
what had you been wearing .”'
“An—evening gown.”
"The one you wore at dinner Ins:
night when your father and l and
Father Shannon were at table’!”’
"Yes, sir.”
“Did you go out of the house in
your evening gown?"
"1 put on a street dress to go out —
as I've told you."
“But your main says you took off
your evening gown and prepared for
bed."
“Well?"
“Is that a fact?”
“Yes," admitted Aline.
“Then after you got ready for bed,
something decided you to get up and
dress in your street suit What was
that ?”
"Your telephone message to father."
"I phoned that Judson Flagg had
been murdered and there were some
features about the case I wanted to
discuss, didn’t 1?”
"About that."
“And that decided you to dress
again ?"
“It did.”
“And. if necessary, to go to Cap
tain Holbrook’s room?”
"Don’t answer that," interposed
Graham.
"You object as her attorney?”
“As my attorney. I hope." broke in
Holbrook, overdoing the matter a bit
ir his manifest desire to shield the
girl Are you trying to manufacture
a PRINCIPAL case against me? Why,
1 m only held as an accessory AFTER
the fact, so far —”
Chief Dempster continued inexor
ably
“You wore two roses at dinner.
Miss Graham WHAT BECAME OF
THOSE ROSES?"
“I don’t know.” faltered Aline
“Don’t know"" There was the sneer
of unbelief In Chief Dempster’s tone.
‘ I took them off—when 1 unclasped
this pin—that held them," she fal
tered.
“Where did you put them?”
To Be Continued To-morrow.
jDaysey Mayme and Her Folks
- ^
T HOUGH?* Father's roof doesn't; what a dress for a similar occasion
leak, Dayspy Mayme Appleton. ; cost ten years hack. The extra cost
Hke all girls who have read of hair must be taken into consider-
! ie testimonials of love In romantic ation. an amount of which sufficient
novels, would like to leave It for a to enthrall a young man will stagger
oof of her own Why she lingers so any father of moderate means
long on Father s hands she doesn't “In brief, to put Daysey Mayme In
• nderstand. a pretty parlor, wearing good clothes
It remained for her brother. Chaun- and with a smile on her lips from
ev Devere Appleton, the Child Sta- which all thought of expense must
ustician. to discover the cause His] be banished, cost 384 per cent more
report, made in a paper read before than it would have cost a generation
the Children's Congress. Is invaluable ago My figures prove that the get-
as a vindication of the charms of ting of a husband has gone up in
iny daughter left on Father's hands j price faster and higher than the
The price of oal,“ began Fresi- price of bacon, and only the daugh-
lent Chauncey Devere. wiping his j ters of millionaires can afford to
mansard brow, “has advanced 19 per i try.
cent. In the past ten years; the stove Not only." he continued, and the
in which the coal is burned cost hopelessness of ever ridding his home
twice as much as the stove before of the t> rant rule of an older sister
which Father courted Mother: there made his voice tremble, “has the price
ie a finer carpet at a higher price, j of bait gone up 384 per cent, but the
and all the special scenery for court- j banks are lined with a larger num-
,hlp I. 30 per cent mor.co.tly than j * >e ' ‘"."’Ill' 1 *: * h,r !
It was a generation ago "
Advice to the
Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX
TRY LEAVING HIM.
JQEAR MISS FAIRFAX:
I have been keeping house for
m.v brother-in-law and his two sons
ever since his wife died fifteen
months ago. I have grown to love
him very dearly. I know he goes
to see a young girl and takes her
home on Saturday night. She is
very much younger than he. He
tells me he is not going to be mar
ried. What would you advise ms
to do to gain his lave, for it will
kill me if I lose him?
HATTIE C.
H E will try to keep you in hi.
household as long as he needs
you, and the needs of a widower with
two children are urgent. You hav«
made him comfortable, and with ns
result; try leaving him and making
Him uncomfortable
Almost Human.
There was only one possible ex.
planation. Either Bill, the butcher
boy, had not a nodding acquaintance
with the elementary laws of horee.
manship, or else the horse was a re*,
ular brute.
With its ears well back, it would
trot along for a few yards and
stop dead; then, without any warning,
start off again, only to stop once
more a little further on. The wretched
Bill, having had two solid hours of
this, was almost delirious.
“Hallo, my boy,” cried out an inter
ested spectator. "What do you keep
pulling that horse up for? Are you
scared of it?”
“Scared of it—pallin' It up?” an
swered the almost tearful youth.
"Whatcher take me for?”
"Well, something’s wrong with the
norse,” persisted the stranger.
"You’re right there,” said Bill
heartily. "But I ain’t got nothin’ to
do with it. Truth is, the beast is
so afraid that I shall say ‘Whoa!’ and
he won’t hear me and he keeps stop-
I pin’ to listen! See?”
The Effect of Moonlight.
It was at the seashore, and the,
| were sitting on the beach, beneath ths
| moon.
j "What effect does full moon hars
upon the tide?” she asked, looking
sweetly up into his face.
“None.” he replied, as he drew closer
i to her; "but it has considerable effect
; upon the un-tied.”
H ER first it is, too. So you sec. with that, it is entitled to come in the list of “ter
rible rainuies!” It might be that it will be their last, but when Youth is this
young two round-cheeked things with fraternity pfhs on their chests, his hair
with the convict cut, hers clinched at the nape of the neck with a black velvet bow that
butterflies out above her brows and rippling still down her back—when Youth is this
young it likely should be called the “first," for there will come others after.
Babette is the prettiest girl in school, and she wears her hair in puffs over her ears
and her ankles are slim little affairs sheathed in silk stockings. Billy is a blonde chap
with his vests cut extremely high, and his collars deeply pointed, and his coat pinched
in the smartest way across the shoulders, and he wears his pipe-lftce trousers turned
up short—so short that it gives him the look of a young heron gone a-wading.
Well, it's a terrible minute. There's a miserable silence, and even her bird and her
dog square themselves around and looking him steadfastly in the eye seem to wonder
when he will begin. And he wonders if she has any notion of the thing that’s on his
mind. If she has, she manages her face pretty well. “But girls are deep,” ruminates
Biliiam. "You never can tell what’s in their heads'”
THE MANICURE LADY
“I
ate fewer fish in the stream, and
, these few fish are 3.€89 per cent more
He paused to frown at the wisely j wary than the fish of several years
ago
The
rh idren in h:s audience who were
not interested In the problem of hav
ing an older sister to marry off
The dree* which Daysey Mayrr.e
wears* cost nine and oae-i.aif times
t-
picture of Daysey Mayme
spending: the rest *»f her life with i
pole in the wate- ovei
he buret into tears
—FRASCK8 L. 0ARS1DF
r
rrcame him and
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
FEEL kind of languid this morn
ing,'' said the Manicure Daily.
"1 was out to one of them old
fashioned country dances, and we had
so much fun that we didn’t Ret home
until three o'clock In the A M I
didn’t think when we shnrted that we
was going to have any fun. but 1 was
doping it wrong. George When I
wasn't in the thick of it myself I
was enioying myself watching the
other folks having their fun. And you
may believe me. George, they sure
did eat that parly right up 1 never
seen a congregation of people that
congregated so Joyous
“I used to have a lot of fvin at them
country dances when 1 *«» young." j
Kuld the Head Barber "They didn't l
ever looked bored or have lo pretend |
lhat they were bavin* a good time
they had It."
We wouldn't have went to thlsj
dance If it hadn't been for brother.
Wilfred." explained the M:»ncur©j
Lady. ‘The poor fellow has took the |
notion into his head lately that he j
Is a sure enough playwright l guess
that playwright gent that l was keep
ing company with told N\ ilfred tha. ^
he ought to write a rlay Anyhow,
lie has started on » rural drama and
has two acts nearly did. The name of
the drama is ‘In Maple Syrup Time,
and Wilfred says that when he hs» It ;
all did it * ill be as sweet as its name.
I hope it don't turn out to be no such j
disappointment as most of his poems
has. but, anyhow, he took the notion]
In his head that he wanted to get a
little color for his play, so he dragged
us off ten miles across the hills to
this country dance, me and sister
Mayme and some lunkhead friend of
Wilfreds that is helping him put the
'arm scenes into the play. Mayme had
to turn him down cold when he pro
posed marriage to her on the way
home after the dance, but outside of
that everything passed off mighty
smooth.
• It was kind of funny to watch j
Wilfred posing. He had a notion in
his head that them simple people
would feel embarrassed in his pres
ence. but there wasn't one of them ,
there that knew 'whether he had ever
wrote a poem or not. and I guess that |
even If they had have known they'
wouldn't have cared. They was r.i;hi •
there tending to their knitting, do.ng j
them square dances as if their lives
depended on them making every mo>e
right and taking them healthy coun
try swings when they came back to
their partners.
"I danced a few of the quadrilles
myself, but I guess them new dances
I have learned lately has threw out
of my head all the memories of the
old square dances. The new city
dances has been coming so thick and
fast that I have to keep bus;.' learning
them. I have seven new dances like
the Tango to my discredit now.”
"Did your brother get his local
color?' asked the Head Barber.
"Yes. I guess he did.” said the Man
icure Lady, “and a beautiful load on
besides. He tempted fate enough to
drink about a gallon of bard cider
and the hard elder went to his soft
head. He came near getting up and
making a speech to tell the simple
country people why he had came there,
but l coaxed him not to make so raw
a play, and we got him back into the
sleigh and home without no unpleas
ant happening. Gee. I wish I could be
as happy as them country girls was
last night! There wasn't a gent there
that forgot he was a gent Well, the
dream is over, George. Here comes
one of my dear customers.”
Observant.
"Be observant, my son. said Willie's
father "Cultivate the habit of seeing
and you will be a successful man."
"Yes.” added his uncle. “Don’t go
through the world blindly. Learn to
use your eyes.”
"Little boys who sre observing
know a great deal more than those
who are not.' his aunt put in.
Willie took this advice to heart.
Next day he inform^dl his mother
that he had been observing things.
“Uncle’s got a bottle of whiskey
hidden in his trunk." he said; “Aunt
Jane's got an extra set of teeth in her
drawer, and father’s got a pack of
cards behind the books In his desk!"
The little sneak'" e\ laimed the
members of the family indicated.
Some Reason.
The editor o:' the eart-to-heart
talk column o* a dally newspaper re
ceived the following letter from a
young man.
' Please tell me why it ;s that a girl
closes her eyes when, a fellow kisses
her?"
To which the editor, in a fiendish
moment, replied.
Send me yiu; p otograph and per
haps I can tell yo 1 *-”
t\ T what age Mother, does a child
begin to detect Its mother in a
^ ** falsehood?
Maternal reverence, Little One, for
bids an answer, but 1 have heard that
children of two years notice this; A
mother will remind a child it has on
its Best Dress and must keep it clean,
and five minutes later will say to a
neighbor in a deprecating way: "Oh.
that is only an old rag. I am ashamed
to have the child seen In it.”
What. Mother, is meant by a "father’s
strong hand?”
When a woman, Little One. is a wid
ow. the people say her children need
a “Father's strong hand.” but when
children have a father, this is all “Fa
ther's strong hand" amoutns to. W'hen
they are had he grumbles to their
mother. “Why don’t you make those
children behave?”
What, Mother, is the important dif
ference between the sympathy of a
Mother and that of a Father?
Father. My Child, has to have had the
measles to be able to sympathize with
the children, and Mother doesn’t.
Is there any way. Mother Dear, for
a man to get his wife to notiev that
there is a button off his coat without
calling her attention to it?
Certainly, My Child. If a man wants
ids wife to notice that a button is off
his coat, let him put a woman s hair
where the button ought to be.
What. Mother Mine, is meant by pass
ing between Scylla and Charybdis?
It means. Little One. the experience
of every Mother whose children demantj
more money of her. and whose hus
band tells her she must get along on
less.
What is the Daughter thinking about,
Mother Dear'.’
Every Daughter. Idttie One, is think-
! ing if she were Mother, she would make
: Father stand around.
Heaven. I am sure. Mother Mine, will
: be satisfactory to the women, hut will
it be satisfactory to man?
Not unless. My Child, he can occa
sionally he sent somewhere as a dele-
j gate.
| What. Mother Mine, is the proof of
an old-fashioned woman"
1 :'re are many. Little One, from
i skirt pockets to heavy hose, hut the
; ultimate proof is her jelly cake. No
, woman can claim to be old-fashioned
i if her jelly cake has less than nine
i layers
What. Mother, is Imagination?
It is man's favorite name for any-
j thing lhat ails a woman.
What is meant by the expression “se-
jeret sorrow?”
It is a secret every one is ready to
give away if sympathetically encour
aged.
What. Mother. :s meant by the words
>t Home" on wedding announcements?
It is the date. My Child, until which
* very * i* expected to keep away to
give ihf* bride a chance to get her pic-
1 tures hung
* —FRANCIS L. GAFSIDE.
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
S O she doesn't want to go to the
theater with you unless you can
buy the very best scats in the
house, and after the theater, when you
took her out for some ice cream at
the little candy store, she sniffed ami
began telling you about the fine sup
pers some other man gives her when
he takes her out.
What shall you do about it?
1 know what I’d do about it if I
were in your place. 1 would stop
caring the snar> of my finger for what
such a goose of a girl says or hints—
or even thinks.
What does she think you are—
millionaire—and what is she. pray t *11
—a princess of the blood royal?
What sort of a home has she—does
she live in a palace or in a castle, and
how many times does she expect he/
friends and acquaintances to kn > k
their heads on the fioor before they
dare to come into her august pres
ence?
What claim has she to such royal
tastes?
Is she such a gorgeous beauty that
no man can look at her without i
dreadful fluttering of the heart?
Is she an intellectual giantess,
whose every word sparkles with the
incrusted wisdom of tlie ages?
Or is she just some little pug-nos» s d,
Where No Money Is Used
round-eyed girl who would never be
missed if she stepped right out of the
world this very minute?
I never saw a really beautiful or
really fine woman in my life who
cared a cent about having people
"spend money on her.” ju to show
how much they thought of her.
What sort of a wife would a girl
like that make an honest, hard
working man?
Why, she’d make you live on one
meal a day. and that a meager one,
just so that she had fine feathers to
show her friends to prove how much
you loved her.
Make a home for you—never in thq
wide, wide world.
She’d rather have a two-room flat
without a window in the second room
and sleep on something that pretend
ed to be a bookcase or a writing desk,
or anything except a good, sensible
bed, and eat on some kind of a shelf
riggedjup to hide the gas plate, than
to live f in the prettiest, most comfort
able little house in the world.
What she wants is show—display.
She’d rather have a hallboy in but
tons at the front door of the flat than
a delivery boy with a good porter
house steak and some green vegeta
bles at he back.
She isn’t a real woman at all, Unis
girl of yours, young man. She's just
a poor, little, pasteboard imitation —
like the beautiful ladies who hold up
baskets of flowers in the garden
scene at the theater.
Turn your eyes away from her,
young man. she isn't even worth
iooklng at.
The Island of Ascension, in the At
lantic Ocean, is of volcanic forma
tion. and has a population of only
450. It was uninhabited until the
confinement of Napoleon at St. Hel
ena. when it was occupied by a small
British force.
Ascension is governed by a captain
appointed by the British Admiralty.
There is no private property in land,
no rents, no taxes and no use for
money. The flocks and herds are
public property and the meat is is
sued as rations. So are the vegeta
bles grown on the farms. When an
island fisherman makes a catch he
brings it to the guardroom, where it
is issued by the sergeant major.
Practically the entire population are
sailors, and they work at most of the
common trades. The muleteer is a
.lack Tar; so is the gardener: so are
the shepherds, the stockmen. the
grooms, carpenters and plumbers
The climate is almost perfect and
anything can be grown.
DID IT WORK?
The Kodak you got Christmas? Bring
the films to JOHN L. MOORE & SONS
for expert finishing. They will also
make clear any point you don’t under
stand. Kodak Headquarters. 42 North
Broad street.—Advt.
i —
Typewriters rented 4 mos.,
$5 up. Am. Wtg. Mch. Co.
Wilton Jellico Goal
$5.00
PER TON
The Jeilico Coal Ci,
82 PEACHTREE ST.
I Atlanta Phone 3668
Bell Phono Ivy 1585
Up*to=Date Jokes
Mr. J. L. Toole had a great antipathv
iO street music of any kind. About
this there Is a story told of him. The
waits, one Christmas evening, played
under his windows, greatly to his an
novance, and on Boxing Day they
paid him a visit.
“We played under your window last
night,” said the spokesman of the
party, when they were shown into his
presence.
“Well, and what do you want?”
quoth the comedian.
"We've come for our little gratuity
“Come for a gratuity, have you°”
exclaimed Mr. Toole. “Bless me! 1
thought you had come to apologize
• * •
While travelling on a steambpat, a
notorious card-sharper, who wished to
get into the good graces of a clergy
man who was on board, said to th«
reverend gentle^nan:
“I should very much like to hear
one of your sermons, sir.”
"Well,” replied the clergyman, “you
could have heard me last Sundas’ if
you had been where you should have
been.”
“Where was that then?”
"In the county Jail.” was the an
swer.
• • •
A gentleman, rushing from his din
ing room into the hall and sniffin*
disgustedly, demanded of Jeames, too
footman, whence arose the outrageous
odor that was pervading the whole
house. To which Jeames replied:
“You see, sir, to-day's a saint's day.
and the butler, » tigh church, and
is burning hincense, and the cook,
she's low church, and is burning
brown paper to hohviate the hin-
oense."
This is Guaranteed to Stop
Your Cough
Make This Family Supply of Cough
Syrup at Home and
Save $2.
Tliis plan makes a pint of better
cough syrup than you could buy
ready made for $2.50. A few* dose?
usually conquer an ordinary cough
—relieves even whooping cough
quickly. Simple as it is. no better
remedy can be had at any price.
Mix 1 pint of granulated sugar
with x /z pint of warm water, and stir
for two minutes. Put ounces <•
Pinex (50 cents’ worth) in a P‘ nl
bottle; then add the Sugar Syrup
It has a pleasant taste and lasts u
family a long time. Take a tea
spoonful every one, two or three
hour?.
You can feel this take hold of a
cough in a way that means busi
ness.
Has a good tonic effect, braces up
the appetite, and is slightly laxative-
too, which is helpful. A handy rem
edy for hoarseness, spasmodic croup
bronchitis, bronchial asthma an<1
whooping cough.
The effect of pine on the mem
branes is well known. Pinex is a
most valuable concentrated com
pound of Norwegian white pine ex
tract, and is rich in guaiacol an*'
other natural healing pine element
other preparations will not work ■
this combination. _ „
This Pinex and Sugar Syrup Hr"
edy has often been imitated, tnougt
never successfully. It is now usef ‘
in more homes than any other cougt'
remedy. . #
A guaranty of absolute satisia
tion, or money promptly refunded
goes with this preparation.
druggist has Pinex. or will get it c'
you If not. send to Tht Pine.
Company. Fort Wayne. Ind.