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The Falal Ring
Pearl and Knox Hemmed In With the Priestess See the Terrible Walls
Close In on Them.
SYNOPSIS.
Peéarl Standish, richest girl In
America, is accused of having {n her
Fuelflon “The Violet Diamond of
aroon.”’ She knows nothing of this
’em. which is eagerly sought by the
ollowing of the Vioclet God of Da
roon, 195 by the High Priestess of
the order, They dfsmtr‘h one of
thelr number, Nicholas Knox, to fat
the gem or suffer death. He holds
up Pearl and after an exciting scene
-g’o becomes interested and promises
to help him secure {t. But she can
yot find it among her father's ef
fects., Knox has the setting, and
Peoarl, knowing that her father
bought the stone in the Far East,
asks Richard Carslake, his secretary,
at that time, to call and tell her
about it. Carslake calls, sees the
setting and takes it away at the
point of a gun. Later the Priestess
and her Arabs appear and he loses
ft. Pearl and Knox go to Carslake's
;&uae; they are trapped and with the
estess and her followers narrow
ly escape death in a room whose
walls close in on them. All are saved
by Tom Carleton, a reporter, who
reverses the mechanism that is
crowding the walls t?ethpr. :
(Novelized from the Photoplay '"The
Fatal Ring."")
EPISODE 2.
Installment 5.
By Fred Jackson.
(Copyright, 1817, by Fred Jackson, all
rights reserved.)
AZED by thelr fall, they stared
about them wonderingly, and
when they beheld the High
Priestess and her Arabs their bewil
derment was complete,
“What's this. Where are we?”
gasped Knox, leaping to his feet and
confronting the astonished Arabs.
“In Carslake's house—in the death
chamber, 1 believe,” replied the High
Priestess, calmly, indlcating the mov
ing walls.
“Good God!"” breathed Knox, horri
fied by what he' saw-—gucssing the ul
timate end If the walls kept on in
their slow but sure advance. -
Pearl turned white. |
This was surely out of the frying
pan into the fire. |
“But how came you hére?”’ asked
~ the High Priestess, curlously. |
? “We came to see Carslake about the
diamond and he trapped us. We were
_ upstairs—and we found a trap, We
thought we could escape this way."
The High Priestess smiled,
- “You have found an excellent means
_ of escape,” she said, dryly.
“8till,” put in Pearl, ‘upstalrs our
~ Jungs were full of smoke. We could
scarcely bt .ain*. We were suffocat
~ ing. Here, at least, the air |s pure.
; Ana the house is afire, you know, It
may attract attention. There I 8 a
chance that some one will rescue us
before—before—that happens!”
- Bhe nodded toward the walls, creep
égphg always closer, |
;( Knox threw himself against the
:g;“r, striving to succeed where the
Arabs had failed. But the spring
lock held, and all of them, pitting their
i@Mth against the panels, could not‘
. make them yield.
. “Help! . . . HELP!" screamed
- Knox, then, reallzing that his strength
~ “The 'walls are of stone, and the
ém is the tidckest I have ever seen.
fh‘ room is practically sound proot,”
?imfved the High Priestess. “It is
- mseless to call!”
& “But some ape MAY hear,” sald
'EM “It 1s worlh the chance. Let
sdo SOMETHING! Don't submit
- tamely to this awful death!”
. The High Priestess shrugged her
E-‘lho&ldou.
~__"lf my time has come, lam ready,”
_mhe said simply. !
~ _ But the Arabs and Knox and Pearl
‘Were not so ready to die. They shout
- #d, they threw themselves one after
- another against the heavy door.
= And the walls kept drawing nearer
mnd nearer to each other, decteasing
the size of the room inch by inch,
the poor, terrified cruturu‘
4 r and nearer to,othcr. ‘
4 All this time Tom Carleton was still
~ struggling with Carslake in the h&lli
gm outside. He hung on for dear
3 biding his time until Carsiake
- should give out, saving himself as
&um as possible; and, in truth, the
ig‘t' Aid seem to be going his way.
b t suddenly, a# they swaved back
mnd forth, Tom's foot slipped upon
Idle Idols—A Short Story
By ARCHEY CAMERON NEW,
“Isn't he just too funny for any
thing?” gurgled a young matinee miss
10 her echum, referring to Jack Le
Jeune, the “star monologist” of the
Olympia program “And so hand
some!” Then she Adainitly selected
another chocolate and contentedly
munched it.
The girl addressed shrugged her
shoulders contemptuously. =She was
a tall, decidedly attractive gifl of
about twenty summers, and to Judge
from her appearance, she ecould go
through life and be kept happily busy
fending off a score or more of male
admirers, but that didn't sult Jean
Carter,
She had no illusions about “ca
reers,” no fatuous langings to be a
madern Joan D'Are, but it didn't suit
her tempestuous nature to sit idly by
and take life as a potpourri of case.
e ——” et et
FOR
E&Ilfl EXTERNALLY
Can You Solve the Riddle of the Violet Diamond of Daroon? Read the Story of the Fatal Ring
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And Still the Walls Closed in on Carslake’s
Vietims.
9 . o 1) .
Who's Who in the Thrilling New Film
Pearl Standish ..................Pearl White
Richard Carslake ..............Warner Oland
The High Priestess ............Ruby Hoffman
Nichoias Xnox ...................Rarle Foxe
Tom Carleton .................. Henry Gsell
the polished flooring and he wentl
down hard.
This gave Carslake an instant's re
spite. But an instant was enough.
Drawing his revolver, he struck the
reporter on tite head with the blunt
end of it, exerting all the strength he
could muster. Without a sound Tom
fell back tipon the hard wood floor
and lay there motionless,
Whether he was dead or only
stunned, Carslake did not wait to
discover, Turning, he staggered ulons
the hallway to the rear again, an
made his way out, triumph in his eyes,
, All of his enemies were in the
doomed house. He knew that both
Pearl and Knox must have suffooated
With all the fervor of her nature, she
had plunged into the activities of the
Chatterton Mission Workers, and now
many a squalid home in the Bowery
waited her coming with eagnerness,
“Don't be silly, Margaret,” admof
ished Jean, smiing kindly, however,
e urse, he's handsome, Why
nhouldsfi'he be? He doesn't do any
hard work. Coming out here twice a
day for fifteen minutes isn't my idea
of being Industrious.”
“Oh, Jean," protested her friend,
po\lunf. “don't be #0 ¢ynical, He's
lpl#\d a.”
“Then why doesn’'t he try to im
prove?"’ demanded Jean. “That Rus
sian impersonation he does isn't like
the real thing at all. If he was a
real worker he'd put in some time in
studying the types he tries to take
off, T could nevef idolize & man who
lh}rkn work."”
t would be hard to say whether
Jaek Le Jeune, or John Packham, as
he wus conséientiously registered at
his hotel, received a telepathic mres
sage from Jean or not, but despite
the lond applause tnat greeted his
re‘iring figure.at the end of the aot,
he frowned dismally at Forrest, the
manager, as he met him on the way
to his dmflh& room,
“I'm not getting it over the way 1
ought,” he wmglunod to Forrest.
A Serial of
Love and Mzsteg_y
long ago in the £moke-fil'ad rocm W=
stairs, and that it could only be a
question of seconds now until the
others wera crushed between the
moving walls,
And in his estimate of this, he was
not far wrong. The walls were al
ready pressing upon them—wedging
them together in a terrified group—
Knox holding a place for himself be
tween Pearl and the High Priestess,
S 0 that their softer bodies would pro
tect him for a time at least,
In all their eyes was a light very
like madness . . . And the moving
walls pressed closer and closer.
(To Be Continued Monday.)
“And I've worked night and day
to make it Jook real
“Nonsense,” retorted Forrest, with
an indulgent smiie. “Listen to that!
You've gotten % biggest hand of
any act on the BN, What tnore do
you want?
~ “To be perfect,” snapped Jack. “I'm
fxuinx out again tonight and look up
\m me new types. I'll get it right if I
‘have to give ug eating.” Forrest
amiled back Admirdtion for this
ambitious youn" fellow, who had
‘wfikod #0 hard for success,
‘ ow let's transfer the scene to Ten
ement 10C, at No, 305 Pine Row. Jean
‘Cut«r. immediately after the Sat
urday matines, had again hurried
downtown and was now being re
ceived by Mrs, Timothy Grogan, aid
ed and abetted by her brood of six
little ones.
“lI just dropped in to see if Mr,
Grogan has gotten home yet," an
nounced Jean, noting with approval
the air of cleanliness that pervaded
the cramped and weather-beaten
quarters ot this family of eight. “And
to sce if you need anything,” she
added, ’lunclng munmflr at the
shoes of the two smallest, then to
ward the empty coal box.
“Sure, Miss Jean,” answered Mrs.
Grogan, laying a caressing hand on
Jean's arm. “Tim's had a relapse.
They m\.t the hospital it'l be tin
SATURDAY, JULY 21, 1917.
The Other Woman
; A SERIAL JF UNIVERSAL APPEAL i
; Louise, Again Faced by Jack’s Tender Devotion to |
: Hig Mother, Tries Not To Be Jealous. ¢
By Virginia Terhune Van De
Water.
CHAPTER |ll,
(Copyright, 1917, by Star Company.)
ACK’SB mother was very kind to
J me during our short engagement.
For a while | feared that she
might want to live with us after our
marriage. 1 suggested to Jack that
such might be the case.
“lI am sure she will not want to,”
Jack answered, decidedly. “She has
not intimated anything of the kind
to me.”
One day when I had been dining at
his mother's home, he asked her if
she did not think she would be lonely
in her apartment after he had gone.
“I shall not stay here,” she told him,
“l am planning to take rooms in an
apartment hotel or in a select board
ing house.”
“But will you not be lfi}xely also in
a placs like that, mother?’ Jack de
murred. ;
She smiled sadly. “No more lonely
than I would be here—with your va
cant room staring me lin the face all
the time. No, dear son, I am going to
glve up my home-—for 1 have nobody
to keep it for—and it will not be like
home without you.”
Jack looked at her compasslonately,
then glanced at me as If he were
afrald 1 might misunderstand her
gpeech, She caught the look and has
tened to explain.
“l am glad things are just as they
are, dear children. I am gatting old,
and keeping house has become some
what of a burden to me. I would like
to try for a while how it will seem not
to have to order three meals for each
day. It must be pleasant to have a
vacation from that kind of thing,”
ghe added, with a laugh.
“I wish you were not so unselfish”
Jack muttered. Then, !mpulsively, as
if saylng something Le must get off
his mind—" You know you are more
than welcome to a home with Louise
and me if you will honor us by com
ing to us.”
1 hope my volce sounded sincere as
1 echoed:
“Of course you are.”
‘ An Offer Refused. o
I supposed she would exclaim at our
'generosity. Insiead she sald quletly
that we were kind to make the offer,
but that she would not live with
eéither one of her married sons.
“My husband and I began our mar
ried life alone togsther,” she Informed
us. “I have not forgotten how pre
cious those early years were to us. 1
have had my day. I want you chil
dren to have yours, also—uatram
meled by the presence of an outsider.”
“Outsider!” Jack exchoed the word
indignantly. “You could never be
that, mother dearest!” -
He sprang up and went around to
her and kissed her. I watched him
and her and saw her return his caress
with just the proper shade of affec
tlon. Yet I aleo saw—or fancled 1
saw--that she was restraining the
emotion she would have shown had I
not been there,
1 was convinced of this later. As
Jack and 1 sat in the drawing room
chatting, we heard her voice in the
days before he gets out. But thank
in’ ye jes the same, I don’t think I'll
nade anything In a little whilee A
fine young man wuz here t'day, this
mornin’' and he's goin' to sind up a
toh o' coal and bring shoes for the
kiddles. Such a handsome fellow, too
—and so gentle. Why, here he is
now,” and again wiping her hands on
her apron, she grasped the hand of
the visitor and invited him in. He
was veritably hidden behind a pile
of boxes, and these he now set down
hastily, while he raised one of the
little girls in his arms.
‘" ‘Scuse me, Miss Carter,” apolo
gizede Mrs. Grogan, again turning to
the girl, whe was engaged in exam
ining a child's book, proudly exhib
ited to her by the oldest. “Let me
make you acquainted with Mr. Pack
ham. He's the nice young man 1 was
tellin® ye of.”
Jean rose to her feet and as she
turned to meet Packham she gave a
little gasp.
“Packham!” &he echoed, blankly.
“Why, 1 thought——"
“You've seen me at the Ol,vmtph\."
inetrrupted Packham, smiling., “I use
another name there, you know, But
off the stage, I'm just plain John
Packham.”
Together they left Mrs, Grogan's
“flat” and as they reached the street
he turned and politely inquired, “May
1 see you to the ear? Of courss, |
don't know you very well, but 1 feel
like I do. 1 hear of you everywhere
1 go down here.”
“Hear of me everywhere—down
here?” she echoed, blankly, “Why,
do you live—down here?"
“Good heavens, no!" he exclaimed,
laughing outright. “I live uptown.
But I work here a lot. [ would vol
unteer to see you home, but I have
several calls to make yet"
“But I thought you were an actor,”
she protlested.
“I am—twice a day,” he agreed.
“But that doesn't take all day, In
between times, I'm what you might
term a free lance soclal worker, It
halcr- me in my work., Studying types
and all that. Then, besides, it keeps
me busy. It's funny we've never met
before, fsn't 1t
“Yos," agreed Jean, completely
flabbergasted at the thought of how
wr previous opinfon of him had col
psed, Then, noting the approach of
her car, she turned to him with a
frank smile. “But I do hope we meet
again, Call at the Chatterton. You'll
adjoining dining room giving an or
der to the maid.
“I will tell mother she need not
withdraw herself entirely.” Jack sald
to me: “Shan’'t [ ask her to come in
here with us for a little while?”
“Certainly!” 1 agreed.
And I meant it. Mrs. Hampton was
always #oo self-effacing that it made
me slightly uncomfortable. When
ever | dined with her she would ar
range that Jack and I should have the
drawing room to ourselves after din
ner. Bhe made the excuse that she
had letters to write or something to
attend to elsewhere.
“1 will bring her in,” Jack said now.
I sat still when he had gone for
her, listening to her low-voiced pro
test. Then, intending to add my per
suasionsg to Jack’'s, | opened noise
lessly the portiere hanging across the
dining room door. I did not mean the
action to be stealthy, but neither Jack
nor his mother heard me. He had his
arms about her, her head was laid on
his shoulder, and ~her arms Wwere
clasped about his neck. His cheek
was pressed to hars.
“My darling boy!” 1 heard her mur
mur, longingly. “My boy!"”
Perhaps I made some involuntary
so’nd. for she started, and, seeing
me, drew back, flushing as if she had
been a girl surprised in her lover's
embrace. Jack laughed.
A Little Surprise.
“I declare,” he exclaimed, “you look
as scared as if Loulse would resent
my kissing my own mother!”
“Well, I don’t!” 1 strove to reply
naturally and to laugh mirthfully as
I turned away. /
Did 1 only imagine that I heard her
whispered reproach to this speech of
Jack's. She certainly sald something
which he tried to contradict, for from
the sudden muffling of his voice 1
knew that she had laid a hand over
kis protesting lips.
She came inte the drawing room
with her son, but did not sit down.
“Really, dear children,” she said,
“I have some notes that must be writ
ten this evening, and I khow that you
two waht to talk to each other, as is
natural. T will see you again, Lou
ise, befors you go,” she added to me,
“Isn’t she the most unselfish person
in the world?” Jack sighed, when she
had left us alone.
He put hls arms about me as he
had put them about his mother. But
I did not return his caress. I had
always supposed that he loved no
body but me with this ahandonment
of tenderness.
“You are naturally very affection
ate, aren't you, Jack?” I asked him. “1
mean—you are rather effusive with
people whom you love.” |
“l love only two dearly,” he re
joined, “you and mother. And of
course the affection T have for you is
entirely different from that which I
have for her.”
He spoke the truth, but I wished
he would say that he loved me better
than his mother. It was not jealousy
that I felt, I told myself. Jack would
not have been able to understand had
I tried to explain. No man could, but
a woman could appreciate my sensa
tions, |
(To Be Continued.)
find me there.” Then she boarded
the car and was gone. He watched
the car until it was ot of sight, then
extracted a little book from his
pocket and made a quick note in it. |
“Chatterton—Jean Carter,” he
mumbled over and over to himself
as he wrote it down,
. - - - - - v
It was a month later and again
Jean and her friend, Margaret, were
matineeing at the Olympia, but this
time in a box. As Jack Le Jeune
made his entrance Margarct pinched
her friend.
“Why Jean,” she sald, in a thrilled
tone. “He nodded to you, Why-—
Jean Carter—are you flirting 2
“Who—with John Packham?"
laughed Jean. “I guess not."
“John Packham!” echoed Margaret,
gasping. “You don't mean——"
“Oh, yes, but T do,” assured Jean,
“That was the little sprprise 1 had
for you.”
“But you sald he was an idle——"
“And 1 take It all back.” Then
she blushed vividly. 3 D 2
apologized to him last night. Then
wie~weh~—" She stopped in confu
sion,
Margaret looked at her friend, and
something she saw in her eyes,made
her give Jean a delightful llmd‘mg.
it
The Jury's Difficulty.
“Gentlemen of the jury,” said the
judge as he concluded hig charge, ‘lt
the evidence shows in your minds that
pneumonia, even indirectly, was the
cause of the man's death, the prisoner
can hot be convicted.”
An hour later a messenger came from
the jury room.
“The gentlemen of the Jury, Your
Lordship,” he sald, “‘desire information,"
"On what point of evidence?"
“None, Yout Lordship; they want te
know how to spell pneumonia!"
An Incentive to Progress.
A verger was doing some decorations
in church when the minister happened
to call, and, seeing some tacks lying
about the pulplt, he sald, “Don't leave
them tacks lying about, Willlam. What
would happen if 1 stépped on ona next
Sunday in the middle of the sermon™'
“Well," sald Willlam, “there would be
one point you wouldn't linger on, nny-“
way."
Our Best Sociely
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By Mary Ellen Sigsbee.
HERE 1s not much in life for the city horse be-
T sides grinding toil. Hard work it is from early
morning till late at night, hard city streets and
a dark, ill-ventilated staple for a home. No sunny
pasture for hi mon off days and no cool earth to lie
upon.
Those animals which man has taken to be his com
panions and servants—the horse, the cow, the sheep,
the dog and-the cat—look to man alone for the things
that make life endurable. The free, wild life, with
opportunity for each to seek his own, is gone forever.
This is especially true of the horse.
In the service of man he has traveled farther from
his original destiny than has any other animal. Think
for a moment of the wild, free creature of the prairies
and then of that faded drudge, the city cab horse.
And yet something of that glad creature of the plain
still survives in the worn-out city animal, for he is
The Manicure Lady
By William F. Kirk.
6 SEEN some dandy moving pic-
I tures last night,” said the Man
icure Lady. “There was one
about a beautiful girl that loved a
gent and got turned down by him on
account of him meeting her chum and
liking the chum better. Gee, George,
you should have saw her sad face
when she seen the truth.”
“I don't care for any moving pic
tures except the comical ones and
the pictures that show troops landing
or marching off somewhere,” said the
Head Barber. “Life is sad enough
without that kind of pictures, the ones
you seen, They oughta censute them,
or whatever they call it. That's what
they oughta.” .
“l think that kind of pictures is
showed to make folks think,” sald the
Manicure Lady. “Maybe when a gent
that is inclined to flirt sees a picture
{ike that he will go home and resolve
not to trifle no more with no young
girl's affection. Anyhow, I hope it
will have thaf effect, though goodness
knows I never seen the gent yet that
could trifle with my heart. Plenty
of them tried it but all they ever got
was a laugh.
“I used to tell them that I felt sorry
for them, but lately I don't even let
them down that easy. Male flirts
is one of the worst menaces to the
bullwarks of our eivilization, as one
of them lady writers sald recently.
Male flirts is worse than female flirts,
Lecause moset everyone flgures out
that gents is sincere when they fall
in love.”
“It 1 was single there wouldn't be
no more falling in love for me,"” said
the Head Barber, gloomily. “I got
stlll made happy by those things ihat made his an
cestors happy.
The man in the picture works hard himself. There
{s endless cause in the crowded city traffic to try
his strength and patience. He leads an even harder
life than do his horses, for he has responsibility un
dreamed of in the animal world.
He has not had time of*inclination in his busy life
to think out the nature of man’s responsibility to the
animal kingdom, but something within him compre
hends the feelings of these dumb, hard-working crea
tures, and he treats them with that com Passion that
marks those who belong to the really best society on
earth.
Through the heat and dust of the long summer day
he spares them all he can. He gives them water often
and stops several times a day to throw a bucketful
of cold water over each tired head.
It is the little things in life that show where we
stand—whether we are still in the lower walks of
humanity, each working, tooth and claw, for his own
selfish interest, or beginning to rise out of this and
willing to help work for the whole,
bawled out good and proper before 1
left home this morning because 1
stayed out playing billiards half an
hour longer than I said I would last
night. I couldn't make the Missus
believe I was in no billiard hall.”
“Maybe you wasn't,” said the un
feeling Manicure Lady. “I read some
where once that married men always
said they was playing billiards when
they stayed downtown late at night,
and that statistics showed only one
married man out of fifty knew how
to play billiards well enough to like
the game.,”
. “That ain’t 80,” said the Head Bar
‘ber. “Almost any man can play bil
liards well enough to like the game,
3t ain't much of a trick to learn. You
lwouldn't think it was hard if yow'seen
the shape of somé of the heads in a
billiard parlor. And nearly every gent
likes the game, and besides, every
married man likes to get out with
the boys once in a while. It ain’t
right to be cooped up in a flat all the
time, and if marrted folks sees each
other too much they are apt to get
tired of each other's society.”
"Goodness knows that could never
happen up to our house,” said the
Manicure Lady. *“I guess outsida of
pay days my father don't show vp
at home to spend the evenings more
than once In a blue moon. He is quite
a club man, and belongs to 8o many
lodges that when he dies we'll be
awful rich, if the lodges don’t welch,
There ain't anything father ain’'t
Jolned except lady lodges. Mother
ain’t’ tired of seeing the old gent
hanging around the house, and she
ain't liable ever to get tired, elther.”
“Well, 1 guess that's a good way to
live this u’-.* mused the Head Bar-
S AT
ety ) igfi-’»’f,i eBB ‘
P orrice P e
e 23 {
A > - l
1127 ey 011% 1 Ny frift e
By MARY ELLEN
SIGSBEE
ber. “Couples should stay at home a
iot the first few years of married life,
and the last few years,’but in be
tween there has got to be a certain
amount of going out by way of va
riety.”
“Well, father does plenty of it,”
said the Manicure Lady, “whether it's
by way of variety or burlesque,”
Longevity.
Mr. Pipple—This {8 a very healthy
town
Mr. Ripple—! must say this town holds
the record for health,
Mr. Pipple—My father dled here at
éighty-four, and my grandfather died at
one hundred and forty.
Mr. Ripple-—-One hundred and forty?
Mr. Pipple—Broad street.
e e———————————
‘
-
R ] 0 l
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