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“The Marriage Game,’’ a Great Love Story, Will Begin on This Page Saturday. Be Sure to Read the Opening Installment V.Tr®/ A1 f] 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.