Newspaper Page Text
I
I ;
TThe Marriage Gamea Great Love Story, Will Begin on This Page Saturday. Be Sure to Read the Opening Installment
-T
AT BAY
A Thrilling Story of
Society Blackmailers
Her First Proposal
OpyTtfht, 181.1, International Nwr» 8erri<*».
NELL BRINKLEY
fNoveTTzvd Vy)
From the play by George Scar
borough, now being presented at the
T irtv ninth Street Theater, New York.
c f -;ai rights held and copyrighted by
International News Service.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
She raised her eyes, struggling
scainst the weight of tears on the
ashes. She must look at her Judge.
Rut it was her father's kind eyes she
met, and it was her father’s kind
voire she heard saying:
Vy glr!—my little Aline—my
motherless baby.”
The voice broke down all her self-
eontrol. though only Its tone, and not
It. words, penetrated her conscious
ness.
"Don't scold me,” sobbed the girl.
"Scold you—my motherless baby—
itn trying with all my poor might
o help you. My little Aline! I must
.till question you—-how did Flagg get
this?”
I don’t know—I must have lost it.”
tnd no.], (Gordon Graham spoke
with quiet satisfaction.
"I see no reason to call this affair a
mock marriage..”
"You don’t!” cried Aline, in dlszy
a arm.
That is a lie many a scoundrel has
old when he wanted to desert a
trusting and innocent young wife,”
-aid Graham, so well satisfied at the
laying of this ghost, that he scarcely
noticed Aline.
The gtrl 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?”
”1 don’t want to think that t'm his
wife—that I'm married to him ”
The man answered her In horror.
•Mv God—T do.”
”1 couldn't be his wife now—I
couldn’t be”—the girl’s voice rose in
he shrftl crescendo of hysteria.
Well—you probably are his wife. '
insisted her father, thanking his
Maker that the motherless bairn his
girl-wife had left him had been
-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 great
oouoh.
"Oh, whyt didn't. I die that summer
—why didn’t I 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 I
die while there was time—why didn't
I die?"
Her hysteria was carrying her past
thought of self-control, and horror
s 11 bounds—she had 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
'witching 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
i hat has 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.
T 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. I think I
should tell you—and the inspector
that'I have phoned the Attorney Gen
eral and have asked to he relieved
from the case—all of it. If Captain
Holbrook is tried I may appear for
him—his attorney ”
"That’s rather surprising." inter
rupted the inspector in a suspicious
'one.
"Ah, let him come in!” cried Aline.
“Why?” asked the three men in
varying tones of surprise. I
“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. “Let 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 fhake of
your engagement to this young lady.”
"Yes, chief.”
“Why telephone at that time—just
after the murder?” -
“WELL. CHIEF, I'M ASKIN’.
WHEN WOULD YOU PHONE A
PAPER IF YOU WANTED TO
STOP AN ITEM—AFTER IT WAS
ON THE NEWSCTAND?”
“Why stop 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 FOOL I D LOOK
DENYIN’ WE WERE EVEN EN
GAGED!”
“Stalling!" muttered the chief to
the inspector—and then changed his
attention to Aline.
“Miss Graham—when did you put
on the street dress you wore last
night to Captain Holbrook’s rooms?”
"When I decided to go to him.” re
plied the girl, simply enough.
“When was that?”
"I can’t tell you the exact hour,
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 this question. Captain Hol
brooks’ finger went quickly to his lips
and he gave the childish little signal
for silence.
“Wait a minute. You sit over here
in this chair 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
what all this fuss was about, any
way.
“Aline needn’t answer that ques
tion." interposed Gordon Graham.
“You fear it may incriminate her,
Counseolr?” asked Chief Dempster.
"I 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 last
night when your father and I and
Father Shannon were at table?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you go out of the house in
your evening gown?”
“I put on a street dress to go out—
as I’ve told you.”
“But your maid 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 I?”
“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
In his manifest desire to shield the
girl. “Are you trying to manufacture
a PRINCIPAL case against me? Why,
I 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?”
“T don't know.” faltered Aline.
"Don't know?” There was the sneer
of unbelief in Chief Dempster’s tone.
“I took them off—when I unclasped
this pin—that held them. she fal
tered.
"Where did you put them?”
To Be Continued To-morrew.
Daysey Mayme and Her Folks
HOUGH Father’s root doesn’t
leak. Daysey Mayme Appleton,
like all girls who have read
testimonials of love in romantic
Us, would like to leave It for a
of her own. Why she lingers eo
; on Father's hands whs doesn't
srstand.
remained for her brother, Chaun-
Devere Appleton, the Child Sta-
elan, to discover the cause. Hie
irt, made In a paper read before
Children’s Congress, is Invaluable
a vindication of the charms of
daughter left on Father’s hands,
rhe price of coal," began Presl-
Chauncey Devere, wiping his
sard brow, “has advanced 19 per
In the past ten years; the stove
which the coal Is burned cost
•e as much as the stove before
ch Father courted Mother: there
l finer carpet at a higher price,
all the special scenery for eourt-
1 Is 30 per cent, more costly than
as a generation ago.”
e paused to frown at the wlggly
dren in his audience who were
interested in the problem of hav-
an older sister to marry off.
rho drees which Dayeey Mayme
ir« cost nine and one half time*
H ER first it Is, too. So you see, with that, It Is entitled to come In the list of "ter
rible minutes!” It might bo that it will be their last, but when Youth is this
young two round-cheeked things with fraternity pins on their chests, his hair
with the convict cut. hers clinched at the nape of the neck with a biack velvet bow that
butterflies out above her brows and rippling still down her back—when Youth is this
young it likely should be oalled 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 be wears his pipe-like 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 wondere If the 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
Bllliam. “You never can tell what'e In their heads!”
THE MANICURE LADY
Tabloid Tales
what a dipss for a similar occasion
cost ten years back. The extra coet
of hair must be taken into consider
ation, an amount' of which sufficient
to enthrall a young man will stagger
any father of moderate means.
“In brief, to put Daysey Mayme in
a pretty parlor, wearing good clothes
and with a smil# on her lips from
which all thought of expense must
be banished, cost 384 per cent more
than it would have cost a generation
ago. My figures prove that the get
ting of a husband has gone up in
price faster and higher than the
price of bacon, and only the daugh
ters of millionaires can afford to
try.
"Not only," he continued, and the i
hopelessness of ever ridding his home
of the tyrant rule of an older sister
made his voice tremble, “has the price
of bait gone up 384 per cent, but the
banks lire lined with a larger num
ber of girls who' are fishing; there
are fewer fish In the stream, and
these few fish are 3,689 per cent more
wary than the fish of several yean
ago."
The picture of Daysey Mayme
spending the rest of her life with a
pole in the water overcame him and
he burst into tears
—FRANCES L. CARBIDE.
By WILLIAM F. KIRK,
f FEEL kind of languid this morn-
ing,’’ said the Manicure Lady.
“I was out to one of them old
fashioned country dances, and we had
so much fun that we didn’t get home
until three o’clock in the A. M. I
didn’t think when we started that we
was going to have any fun, but I was
doping It wrong, George. When T
wasn’t In the thick of it myself I
was enjoying myself watching the
other folks having their fun. And you
may believe me. George, they sure
did eat that party rfght. up. 1 never
seen a congregation of people that
congregated so Joyous "
"I used to have a lot of fun at them
country dances when I was young,"
said the Head Barber. “They didn't
ever looked bored or have to pretend
that they were having a good time—
they had it.”
“W« wouldn't have went to this
dance If it hadn't been for brother
Wilfred.” explained the Manicure
Lady. “The poor fellow has took the
notion into his head lately that he
Is a sure enough playwright. I guess
that playwright gent that T was keep
ing company with told Wilfred that
he ought to write a play. Anyhow,
he has started on a rural drama and
has two aots nearly did. The name of
the drama is In Maple Syrup Time.'
end Wilfred says that when he has It
all did it will be as sweet as its name.
I hope it don’t turn out to be no such
disappointment as moat of his poema
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
Wilfred's that is helping him put the
farm 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 pawed off mighty
smooth.
“It was kind of funny to watch
Wllfrod 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 right
there tending to their knitting, doing
them square dances as if their live?
depended on them making every move
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 busy learning
them. I have seven new dances like
the Tango to my discredit now.”
“Did your brother get his local
color?" anked the Head Barber.
"Yes I guess he did,” said the Man
icure Lad>, “and a beautiful load on
besides. He tempted fate enough to
drink about a gallon of hard cider
and the hard cider went to his soft
head. He came near getting up and
making a speech to tell the simple
country people why he had name there,
but 1 coaxed him not to make so ra w
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
laat 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 are observing
know a great deal more then those
who are not,” his aunt put In.
Willis took this advics to heart.
Next day he Info rm*i his mother
that he had been observing things.
“Uncles got a bottle of whiskey
hidden in his trunk,” he said; “Aunt
Jane's got an extra set of tooth in her
drawer, and father's got a pack of
cerds behind the books In his desk!”
“The little sneak!” exclaimed the
members of the family indicated.
Some Reason.
The editor of the "heart-to-hear!
talk" column of a dally newspapor re
ceived the following letter from a
young man
“Please toll me why it is that a girl
closes her eyes when a follow kisses
her?”
To which the editor, in a fiendish
moment, replied
Send me your photograph and per
haps I can tell yo" ”
A T what age, Mother, does a child
A-V begin to detect its mother in a
^ falsehood?
Maternal reverence. Little One, for
bids an answer, but I have heard that
children of two years notice this; A
mother will remind a child it lias 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 peojffe say her children need
a “Father’s strong hand.” but when
children have a father, this i.s all “Fa
ther’s strong hand” amounts to: When
they ar' 1 bad he grumbles to tlieir
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, lias 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 notice that
there Is a button off his coat without
calling her attention to It?
Certainly, My Child If a man wants
his 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 Charybdl
It means. Little Ore, the experience
of every Mother whose children demancj
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. Little One, is think
ing if she were Mother, she would make
Father stand around.
Heaven, f am sure, Mother Mine, will
be satisfactory to the women, but will
it be satisfactory to man?
Not unless, My Child, he can occa
sionally be sent somewhere as a dele
gate. •
What, Mother Mine, is the proof of
an old-fashioned woman'’
There are many. Little One, from
skirt pockets to heavy hose, but the
ultimate proof is her jelly cake. No
woman can claim to be old-fashioned
if her Jelly cake has less than nine
layers.
What, Mother, is Imagination''
It is man's favorite name for any
thing that ails a woman
What is meant by the expression “se
cret sorrow?”
It is a secret every one is ready, to
give away if sympathetically encour
aged.
What. Mother, i.s meant by the words
“At Home" on wedding announcements''
it is the date, My Child, until which
every one is expecred to keep away to
give the bride a chance to get her pic
tures hung
—FRANCIS L. CARBIDE.
THE TEARFUL WEDDING GUEST
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX.
S O she doesn’t want to go to tha
theater with you unless you can
buy the very best seats In the
house, and after the theater, when you
took her out for some ice cream at
the little candy store, she sniffed and
began telllm? you about the fine sup
pers some other man (fives her when
he takes her out.
• What shall you do about it?
I know what I'd do about it If I
were in your place. I would stop
caring the snap of my finder 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 ;1!
—a princess of the blood royal?
What sort of a home has she—does
she live in a palace or in a castle, snd
how many times does she expect hr."
friends and acquaintances to kn >■ k
their heads on the floor before they
dare to come into her august pres
ence?
What claim has she to such royal
tastes?
Is she such a goTgeous beauty that
no man can look at her without a
dreadful fluttering of the heart?
Is she an Intellectual giantess,
whose every word sparkles with the
incrusted wisdom of the ages?
Or is she Just some little pug-nosed.
Where No Money Is Used
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,
nr> 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 ah
island fisherman makes a catch he
brings it to the guardroom, where it
is issued by the sergeant major
Tael the ent ;re popula l Ion u •
sailors, and they work at most of the
common trades. The muleteer is a
Jack 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.
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 wno
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, hara-
worklng flnan?
Why, she’d make you live on ono
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 the>
wide, wide world.
She’d rather have s two-room flit
without a window in the second room
and sleep on something that pretend
ed to be a bookqpsc or a writing desk,
or anything except a Rood, sensible
bed, and eat on some kind of a shelf
rigged tip to hide the gas plate, than
to live In the prettiest, most comfort
able llttfe 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, this
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
looking at.
DID IT WORK?
The Kodak you got Christmas? Bring
the films to JOHN Is. MOORE & SONS
for expert finishing They will also
make dear any point you don’t under
stand Kodak Headquarters, 42 North
Broad street.—Advt.
Typewriters rented 4 mos.,
$5 up. Am. Wtg. Mch. Co.
Advice to the
Lovelorn
By BEATRICE FAIRFAX
TRY LEAVING HIM.
J)EAR MISS FAIRFAX:
I have been keeping house for
my brother-in-law and hia two sons
ever alnce hia wife died fifteen
montha ag >. 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 me
to do to gain hia love, for it will
kill me if I lose him?
HATTIE C.
H E will try to keep you In hia
household an long as he needs
you, and the needs of a widower with
two children are urgent. You have
made him comfortable, and with no
result; try leaving him and making
ilm uncomfortable
Almost Human.
There was only one possible ex-
plans tlon. Either Bill, the butcher
boy, had not a nodding acquaintance
with the elementary laws of horse
manship. or else the horse was a reg
ular brute.
With Its ears well hack. 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 iwo solid hours of
-hli, was almost delirious.
"Hallo, my boy.” cried out an Inter
ested spectator. “What do you keep
pulling that horse up for? Are you
•cared of It?"
“Soared of It—pullin' It opr* an
swered the almost tea-rful youth.
“Whatcher take me for?**
“Well, something's wrong with the
horae," 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
tie won’t hear me and he keeps stop-
pin’ to listen! See?"
The Effect of Moonlight.
It was at the seashore, and thej
were sitting on the beach, beneath th«
moon.
“What effect does full moon have
upon the tide?” she asked, looking
sweetly up Into h1s face.
“None," he replied, ae he drew closer
te her; “but it haa considerable effect
upon the un-tied.**
Up-to-Date Jokes
Wilton Jellico Goal
$5.00
PER TON
The Jellico Coal Ci.
* 82 PEACHTREE ST.
Atlanta Phona 3668
Ball Phona Ivy 1565
Mr J. U Toole ho<1 a antipathy
to street mueto of any kind. About
this there is a story told of him. The
waits, one Christmas evenln*. played
under h!s windows, jreatly to his an
noyance, and on Boxlny Day they
paid him a visit.
•’We played under your window lant
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 apologise!"
• • 8
While travelling on a steamboat, e
notorious card-sharper, who wtahed ro
ge? into the good graces of a clergy
man who was on board, said to the
reverend gentleman:
“1 should very much like to hear
one of your sermons, sir.’*
“Well,” replied the clergyman, “you
could have heard me last Sunday if
you had been where you should have
been.”
“Where wes that then?”
“In the county Jail,” was the an
swer.
• • 8
A gentleman, rushing from bis din
ing room into the hall and sniffing
disgustedly, demanded of Jeames, the
footmen, whence arose the outrageous
odor that was pervading the whole
house. To which Jeames replied:
“You see, sir, to-day’s s saint's day.
and the butler, e's igh church, and
la burning hlneenee. and the cook,
she’s low church, and is burning
brown paper !• hobviata the hin-
censa.”
This is Guaranteed to Stop
Your Cough
Make This Family Supply of Cough
Syrup at Home and
Save $2.
This plan makes a pint of better
cough syrup than you could buy
ready made for $2.50. A few doses
, usually conquer an ordinary cough (
) —relieves even whooping cough
quickly. Simple as It is, no better
remedy can be had at any price,
i Mix 1 pint of granulated sugar
with Vfc pint of warm water, and stir
for two minutes. Put 2*£ ounces of
\ i’inex (50 cents’ worth) in a pint
} bottle; then add tthe Sugar Syrup.
It has a pleasant taste and lasts a
, family a long time. Take a tea
spoonful every one, two or three
hours.
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 and
whooping cough.
The effect of pine on the mem-
branes is well known. Pinex is a
j most valuable concentrated eom-
{ pound of Norwegian white pine ex
tract, and is rich in guaiacol and
other natural healing pine elements.
Other preparations will not work In
this combination.
I This Pinex and Sugar Svrup Rem-
I ' ed.v has often been imitated, though
' never successfully. It is now used
in more homes than any other cough
{ remedy.
i ' A guaranty of absolute satisfac
tion, or money promptly refunded,
goes with this preparation. Your
druggist has Pinex. or will get It for
you If not. send to The Pinex
Company', Fort Wayne. Ind.
•v