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« he Marriage Game/' a Great Love Story, Will Begin on This Page Saturday. Be Sure to Read the Opening Installment irMlP ((%■] >3 Per* i \A(T A 'M 7 ii niL ^tj IN rl IJn • - r AT BAY A Thrilling Story of Society Blackmailers Her First Proposal at f**n*w. 1*M. tun By NELL BRINKLEY (NoveOwd »y) ] the play by George Scar- now being presented at tha ninth Street Theater, New York. . rights held and copyrighted by j. ational News Service.) TO DAY’S INSTALLMENT. • raised her eyes, struggling , s the weight of tears on the ■ She must look at her Judge. B ;• it was her father's kind eyes she 1®..' and it was her father’s kind ,< e she heard saying: V.j girl—my little Aline—my mo'herless baby ” "-« voice tirnke down all her self- or-'rol. though only Its tone, and not words, penetrated her conscious- ness. A , • • • Don't scqM me/* sobbed the girl. - -old vou—-my motherless baby— I m trying with all my poor might r rip vo 14. My little Aline! I must uiestion you—bow did Flagg get don’t know T must have lost It.” nd now Gordon Graham spoke i quiet, satisfaction. ”T re© no reason to call this a (Taira 'hrk marriage.’* You don’t!”.cried-Aline, in dizzy farm. That is a Ho many a scoundrel has • 1 when he wanted to desert a r u sting and innocent young wife,’ •i! Graham, so well satisfied at the i.ving 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 lit tha.t t9 be time?” i don’t want to think that I’m his ilia i I'm married to him.” The man answered her in horror. My God—I do.” I couldn’t be his wife now—I ouldn’t be”—the girl’s voice rose in ■e shrill crescendo of hysteria. Well—you probably are his wife,” -isted her father, thanking his :<er that the motherless bairn his rl-wife had left him had been ed this shame, at least. ! n a wild abandon of tears and sobs e girl flung herself across the room nd crouched trembling and shaken mong the cushions of the great couch. ‘Oh, why 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 rourself -MacIntyre and Dempster w t hear von.” The whplv world may hear me— r-'hing ‘matter?* now—why didn’t I • e while there was time—why didn’t I die?” Her hysteria was carrying her past thought^of self-control, and horror Yl bounds—she hdd given over all unleashed was tearing at her mind. Mine! Aline*” cried her father, i‘"n’t you think of yourself now. II your grief from people* who will e ;,it against you. Think of m.v • lie—our proud name. Be a wom- Allno * * * ” There was the clamor of an in- - stent knock at the door? Aline!” pleaded the man. On the Rack. I’ll try—daddy.” She rolled her A t handkerchief Into a little damp 11 and clutched it for the grip on ality it gave. And then, with tehing nostrils that kept back the rig exhalations of her spent sobs, .ne turned to face again Chief 1 tnpster and inspector MacIntyre. if the wily chief observed that ' ne was struggling as does a child at has passed through a wild tem- st of grief—and as a woman who • es a heritage of pain, he gave no ~n. He began.with a challenge. I saw* Holbrook in the hall. * * • What does this mean?” T had Captain Holbrook sent here ■ care of an officer,” answered Gor- n Graham. Why?” He asked- to see me. I think I 'uld tell you—and the inspector A I have phoned the Attorney Hen ri and have asked to be relieved ' >m the case—all of it. If Captain Hbrook is tried I may appear for rrt—his attorney ” That’s rattyer surprising,” inter- ■ rpted the inspector in a suspicious tone. 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. "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 make 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 NEWSSTAND?” ‘‘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 DENTIN’ 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 w T ent 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. ”1 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 w*ere 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. 1m only held as an accessory AFTER the fact, so far ” Chief Dempster continued inexor ably. "You vfhre 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 T unclasped this pin—that held them,” she fal tered. “Where did you put them?” To Bo Continued To-morrow. Advice to the Lovelorn By BEATRICE FAIRFAX TRY LEAVING HIM. J)EAR MISS FAIRFAX: I have boon keeping house for my brother-in-law and his two sons ever since his wife died fifteen months ag \ T 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 vou advise me to do to gain his love, for it will kill me if I lose him? HATTIE C. H E will try to keep you in hit household as long as he needa you. and the needs of a widower with two children are urgent. You have made him comfortable and with n: result; try leaving him and making nim 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 horse manship, or else the horse was a reg ular brute. With its ears weR ha^k. 1t would trot along for a few yards and stop dead; then. wtthout 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 •oared of it?” "Scared of It—pallin' It up?" an swered the almost tearful youth. “Whatcher take me for?” "Well, something’s wrong with the horse,” persisted the rtranger. "You're right there,” *aJd Bill heartily. "But I ain’t got nothin’ to flo with it. Truth is, the beast is no afraid that I shall say ‘Whoal’ and ; he won't hear me and he keeps etop- | pin’ lo listen! See?” The Effect of Moonlight. It was at the seashore, and they were sitting on the beach, beneath the moon. "What effect does full moon havs upon the tide?” she naked, looking sweetly up Into hla face, i “None.” he replied, as he drew cloaer to her; “but it has considerable effect upon the ua-tied.” Daysey Mayme and Her Folks 1 THOUGH Father’s roof doesn’t leak, Daysey Mayme Appleton, like all girls who have read testimonials of love in romantic vels, would like to leave It for a r f of her own. Why she lingers so g on Father's hands she doesn’t Lderstand. remained for her brother, Chaqn- Devere Appleton, the Child Sta- 'ician, to discover the cause. His 'ort, made in a paper read before Children’s Congress, is invaluable a vindication of the charms of daughter left on Father's hands. The price of coal,” began Presi- -r.t Chauncey Devere, wiping his ^msard brow, “has advanced 19 per 1 r -nt. in the past ten years; the stove which the coal is burned cost r *" A e as much as the stove before '-‘eh Father courted Mother; there a finer carpet at a higher price, f ri all the special scenery for court- ■ is 30 per cent, more costly than *’ w as a generation ago.” He paused to frown at the wiggly !dr*n in his audience who were j interested in the problem of hav- an older sister to marry off. ? 'c dress which Daysey Mayme J - a cost nine and one-half times w’hat a dress for & similar occasion cost ten years back. The extra coat 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 smile or her Ups from which all thought of expense must be banished, cost 884 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 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 3S4 per cent, but the banks are lined with a larger num ber of girls who are fishing; there are few'er fish in the stream, and these few fish are'3.689 per cent more wary than the fish of several years ago.” j 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. GARSl'DE H ER first it is, too. So you sen. with that, It is entitled to come in the list of ”ter rible mtnutes!” 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 neeji 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. Bill)' is a blonde chap with his vests cm. extremely high, and bis collars deeply pointed, and his coat pinched In the smartest way across the shoulders, and he 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 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 Billiam. “You never can tell what'e In their heads!” THE MANICURE LADY “I By WILLIAM F. KIRK. 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 w’as doping it wrong. George. When I wasn't in the thick of it myself I w’as enloying myself w’atchlng the other folks having their fun. And you may believe me, George, they sure did eat that party right up. I never seen a congregation of people that congregated so Joyous.” “I used to have a iot of fun at them cosntry dances when T tvrs young,' said the Head Barber. “They didn't ever looked bored or havs to pretend that they were having a good time— they had it.” "We 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 * sure enough playwright. I guess that playwright gent that T was keep ing company with told Wilfred that he ought to writs a play. Anyhow, he has gtarted on a rural drama and has two acts nearly did. The name of the drama is Tn Maple 8yrup Time, and Wilfred says that when he has It all did it will be as sweet as its name [ hope it don’t turn out to be no such 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 ths 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 passed off mighty smooth. “It was kind of funny to watch Wilfred posing. He had a notion in hla 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 lives defended on them making ever) move Tabloid Tales 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 th em new dances I havs 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?” asked the Head Barber. “Yes I guess he did,” said the Man icure Lady, and a beautiful load on | besides. He tempted fafe enough to drink about a gal’on of hard cider and the hard cider went to his soft head. He came neer getting up and making a speech to tell the simple country people why he had came there, but 1 coaxed him not to make eo 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 a« them oountry girls was laet 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 Wlllle’i father. “Cultivate tbe habit of seeing and you will be a successful man. “Yes,” added Ms uncle. “Don’t go through the world blindly. Learn to use your eyes.” “Little boys who are observing know a great deal more than those who are not,” his aunt put in. Willie took this advice to heart. Next day he informed 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!” exclaimed the members of the family indicated. Some Reason. The editor of the “heart-to-heart talk” column of a daily newspaper re ceived t'ne following letter from a young man; “Pleaee tell me why it is that a g*rl closes her eyes when a fellow kisses her?’’ To which the editor, in a fiendish moment, replied: •.Send me your photograpn and psr- haps I can tell A T what age. Mother, does a child 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 has on its Best Dress an/i 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 meknt by a "father's strong hand?” When a woman, Littffe One, is a wid ow. the people nay her children need a “Father’s strong hand,” but when children have a father, this Is all "Fa ther's strong hand” anioutns to: When they arc had lie grumbles to ih-eir 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 notice that there is a button off hie 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, lot him put a woman’s hair w’here 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 demand more money of her, arui 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, I am sure. Mother Mine, will be satisfactory to the women, but will it t»e satisfactory to man? Not unless, My Child, he can occa sionally be sent somewhere as a dele- ga ’ i What. Mother Mine, is the proof of an old-fashioned woman? There arc many, Little One, from skirt, pocketa 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 exp'ression "se cret sorrow?” It is a secret every one is ready to give away if sympathetically encour aged. What, Mother, is meant by the words “At Home” on wedding announcements? It is the date. My Child, until which ». very one *is expected to keep away to give the bride a chance to get her pic tures hung FRA A C/,S' L. GARSIDE. THE TEARFUL WEDDING GUEST Uprio-Pate Jokes ] By BEATRICE FAIRFAX. S O she doesn’t want to go to the 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 telling you about the fine sup pers some other man gives 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. 1 would stop curing the snap 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 till —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 h a r friends and acquaintances to kn >ck their heads on the floor before they dare to come into her august pres ence? What claim bee 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 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 460. 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 ts 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 moat 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 gir! who would never be missed if the stepped right out of the world thi« very minute? I neveT saw a really beautiful or really fine woman In my life who cared a cent about havi.ig 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 rnoag* r one, Jupt 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 flj.t 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 rigged up to hide the gas plate, than to live in the prettiest, most comfort able little house In the wrnrld. 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 hoy with a good porter house steak and some green vegeta bles at he back. She isn’t a real woman at all, (1iis 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 gard n 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 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. Typewriters rented 4 mos., $5 up. Am. Wtg. Mch. Co. PER TON The Jelllco Coal Ct. ■2 PEACHTREE ST. Atlanta Phone 3668 Bell Phone Ivy 1585 Mr. J. L. Toole haA a great antipathy 'n strret music of any kind About this there Is a story told of him. The waits, one Christmas evening, played under hla windows, greatly to his an novance, and on Boxing Day they paid him a villi "We ployed under your window last night,” said the spokesman of the party, when they were shown into his presence. “Well, and what do you wantT“ quoth the comedian. “We ve come for our little gratuity.” “Come for a gratuity, have you?” exclaimed Mr. Toole. “Bless me! I thought you had come to apologize!*' • • • While travelling on a steamboat, a notorious card-sharper, who wished to get into the good graces of a clergy man who was on board, said to the reverend gentleman: “I 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 be^n.” “Where was that then?” “In the county Jail,” wes the an swer. • • • A gentleman, rushing from his din ing room into the hall and sniffing disgustedly, demanded of Jeames, the footman whence arose the outrageous odor that waa pervading the whole house. To which Jeames replied: “You see, sir, to-day's a aaint’a day. and the butler, e's igh church, and in burning hinoenee. and the cook, she’s low church, and Is burning brown paper to hebviate the hin- censc” 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 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. Mix 1 pint of granulated sugar with 1 2 pint of warm water, and stir 1 for two minutes. Put 2^ ounces of Pinex (50 cents’ worth) in a pint bottle; then add the Sugar Syrup. It has a pleasant taste and lasts a family a long time. Take a lea- npoonful every one, two or three t 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. 1 too. which is helpful. A handy rein- , edy for hoarseness, spasmodic croup. J bronchitis, bronchial asthma and whooping cough. The effect of pine on the mem branes Is well known Plnex is a most valuable concentrated com 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. This Pinex and Sugar Syrup Rem edy has often been imitated, though never successfully. It is now used in more homes than any other cough remedy. A guaranty of absolute satisfac tion, or money promptly refunded, aoes with this, preparation. Your druggist has Pinex. or will get it for you. If not, send to The Pinex Company, Fort Wayne. Ind.