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The Falal Ring
Pear] and Knox Hemmed In With th\llf'riestess See the Terrible Walls
Close In on Them. .
SYNOPSIS ]
Pear Standish, richest girl iln
America, is accused of having in her
possess! The Violet Diamond of
baroon She knows nothing of this
LH which lis ou‘\rr.; sought by the
following of the Violet God of Da
roon. led by the High Priestess of
the order. They dispatch one of
their number, Nicholas Knox, to get
the gem or suffer death. He ho’dn
up Pear] and after an exciting scene
she becomes interested and promises
to help him secure it But she can
not find it among her father's ef
fects. Knox has the setting, and
Pearl, knowing that her [father
pought the stone in the Far Bast,
Aaks 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
it. Pearl and Knox go to Carslake's
house; they are lrlrpod and with the
Priestess and her followers narrow
iy escape death in a room whose
walis close in on them. All are saved
by Tom Carleton, a reporter, who
reverses the mechanism that |ls
erowding the walls tg‘ether.
(Novelized from the otoplay “The
Fatal Ring.”)
EPISODE 2.
Installment 5.
By Fred Jackson.
(Copyright, 1917, by Fred Jackson, all
rights reserved.)
AZED by their fall, they stared
D about them wonderingly, and
p 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, indicating the mov
ing walls. _
. ““Good God!" breathed Knox, horri
fled by what he saw—guessing the ul
timate end if the walls kept on in
their slow but sure advance,
Pear]l turned white.
© This was surely out of the frying
pan into the fire.
. “But how came you here?” ukod‘
the High Priestess, curiously.
~ "“We came to see Carslake about tho‘
diamond and he trapped us. We were
upstairs—and we found a trap. We
thought we could escape this way.”
© The High Priestess led.
~ “You have found an excellent means
of escape,” she said, dryly.
~ “Still,” put in Pearl, ‘upstairs our
lungs wa;c full of smoke. We could
scarcely breathe. We were suffocat
ing. Here, at least, the air is pure.
And the house is afire, you know. It
may attract attention. There is a
chance that some one will rescue us
before—before—that happens!”
. She nodded toward the walls, creep-,
ing always closer.
Knox threw himself against the
door, striving to succeed where the
Arabs had failed. But the spring
lock held, and all of them, pitting their
strength against the els, could not
make them yield. [}
P L. ELP!” screamed
Knox, then, realizing that his strength
was futile.
- “The walls are of stone, and the
door is the thickest I have ever seen.
‘The room is practically sound proof,”
observed the High Priestess. “It is
‘useless to call!”
" “But some one MAY hear,” said
Pearl. “It is worth the chance. Let
us do SOMETHING! Don't submit
tamely to this awful death!”
- The High Priestess shrugged her
chofiulcra. &
"It my time come, lam ready,”
she said simply. |
But the Arabs and Knox ud'zurl
were not so ready to die. They shout
ed, they threw themselves one after
another against the heavy door. |
- And the walls kept drawing nearer
and nearer to each other, decreasing
the size of the room inch by inch,
forcing the poor, terrified creatures
nearer and nearer together.
+ Al this time Tom Carleton was still
struggling with Carslake in the hall
outside. He hung on for dear
) biding holz time until Carslake
; give t, saving himself as
m as possible; and, in truth, the
tfit did seem to be going his way.
ut suddenly, as they swayed back
and 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
to her chum, referring to Jack Le
Jeune, the “star monologist” of the
Olympia program “And so hand
some!” Then she dainitly selected
another chocolate and contentedly
munched it
‘The girl addressed shrugged her
shoulders contemmptuously. She was
a tall, decidedly attractive girl of
about twenty summens, and to judge
from her appearance, she could go
through life and be kept happily busy!
fending off a score or more of male
admirers, but that didn't suit Jean |
CarteY. |
Bhe had no illusions about “ca
reers,” no fatuous longings to be a
madern Joan D'Arc, but it didn't suit
her tempestuous nature to sit idly by
and take life as a potpourri of ease.
s S S ———
FOR
. APPLIED EXTERNALLY
Can You Solve the Riddle of the Violet Diamond of Daroon? Read the Story of the Fatal Ring
THEGEORGENS I MACAZINGE-RPAGE
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And Still the Walls Closed in on Carslake’s
Vietims.
Who’s Who in the Thrilling New Film
Pearl Standish ............... .. .Pearl White
Richard Carslake ..............Warner Oland
The High Priestess ........... .Ruby Hoffman
B R .. ... ... LSO s Baae
dom Carleton ™ ..................Henry Gsell
the polished flooring and he went
down hard.
This gave Carslake an instant’'s re
spite. Byt an instant was enough.
Drawing his revolver, he struck the
reporter on the head with the blunt
end of it, exerting all the strength he
could muster. Without a sound Tom
fell back upon the hard wood floor
and lay there motionless.
Whether he was dead or only
stunned, Carslake did not wait to
discover. Turning, he staggered alon
the hallway to the rear again, Ang
made his way out, triumph in his eyes.
All of his enemies were in the
doomed house. He knew that both
Pear]! and Knox must have suffocated
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,” admon
ished Jean, smiiing kindly, however.
“Of course, he’s handsome., Why
shouldn't 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,
pouting, “don’'t be so cynical. He's
splendid.”
“Then why doesn’'t he try to im
prove?’ demanded Jean. “That Rus
sian impersonation he does isn't ’ke
the real thing at \ll‘ If he was a
real worker he’d put in some time in
studying the types he tries to take
off. I could never idolize a man who
‘shirks work."”
It would be hard to say whether
Jack Le Jeune, or John Packham, as
he was conscientiously registered at
his hotel, received a telepathic mes
'sage from Jean or not, but despite
‘the loud applause that greeted his
retiring figure, at the end of the act,
‘he frowned dismally at Forrest, the
‘manager, as he met him on the way
to his dressing room.
‘ “I'm not getting it over the way I
ought# he complained to Forrest.
A Serial of
Love and Mzgteg
long ago in the smoke-filled room uj
stairs, and that it could only be a
question of seconds now until the
others were 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,
sc 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 look real.”
“Nonsense,” retorted Forrest, with
an Induigent smile. “Listen to that!
You've gotten the biggest hand of
any act on the bill. What more do
you want?”
“To be perfect,” snapped Jack. “I'm
lo,l;:! out again tonight and look up
S 0 new types. I'll get it rlxpr?t it I
have to give up eating'" orrest
smiled back admiration for this
ambitious young fellow, who had
worked so hard for success.
Now let's transfer the scene to Ten
ement 10C, at No. 305 Pine Row. Jean
Carter, immediately after the Sat
urday matinee, 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.
“I 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 of this family-ef.eight. “And
to soce if you need anything,” she
added, glancing meaningly at the
shoes of the two smallest, then to
ward the empty coal box.
“Sure, Mis#~Jean," answered Mrs.
Grogan, laying a caressing hand on
Jean's arm. “Tim's had a relapse.
‘They say at the hospital it'll be tin
The Other Woman
A SERIAL OF UNIVERSAL APPEAL
Louise, Again Faced by Jack’s Tender Devotion to
His Mother, Tries Not To Be Jealous.
By Virginia Terhune Van De
Water,
CHAPTER I,
(Copyright, 1917, by Star Company.)
ACK’'S mother was very kind to
J me during our short engagement,
For a while 1 feared that she
might want to live with us after our
marriage. I suggested to Jack that
such might be the case,
“l 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 lonely also in
a place like that, mother?” Jack de
murred.
She smiled sadly. “No more lonely
than 1T would bes/here—with your va
cant room staring me in the face all
the time. No, dear son, lam going to
give up my home-~for T have nobody
to keep it for—and it will not be like
home without you.”
Jack looked at her compassionately,
then glanced at me as if he were
‘afrald I might misunderstand her
speech. She caught the look and has
tened to explain.
“l am glad things are just as they
are, dear children. I am geatting 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,”
she added, with a laugh.
“I wish you were not so unselfish”
Jack muttered. Then, impulsively, as
if gaying something he must get off
his mind—“ You know you are more
than welcome to & heme with Louise
and me if you will honor us by com
ing to us.”
1 hope my volce sounded sincere as
I echoed:
“Of course you are.” .
An Offer Refused.
I supposed she would exclaim at our
generosity, Instead she said quietly
that we were kind to make the offer,
but that she would not live with
either one of her married sons.
“My huabn.l and I began our mar
ried life alone together,” she informed
| )mve not forgotten how pre
cious those early years were to us. I
have had my day. I want you chil
dren to have yours, also—untram
meled by the presence of an outsider.”
“Outsider!” Jack exchoed the word
indignantly. “Yom 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 fust the proper shade of affec
tion. Yet I also saw—or fancied I
saw-—that she was restraining the
emotion she would have shown had {
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. Bb%thank
in’ ye jes the same, I don’t think I'll
nade anything in a little while. A
fine young man wuz here t'day, this
mornin’ and he's goin’ to sind up a
ton o' coal and bring shoes for the
kiddies. 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 behina a pile
of boxes, and these he now set down
bastily, while he raised one of the
little girls in his arms.
“ ‘Scuse rae. Miss Carter,” apolo
gized Mrg, Qrogan, again turning to
the g.r], who 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!” she ecyoed. blankly.
“Why, 1 thought—",
“You've seen me at the Olympia,”
lnetrrupt:g Packham, smiling. “I use
another me there, you know. But
off the stage, I'm just plain John
Packham.”
Together they Jest \4? Grogan's
“flat” and as they reached the street
he turned and politely inquired, “May
1 see you to the car? Of course, I
don't know you very well, but I feel
like I do. I 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. 1 would vol
unteer to see you home, but I have
several calls to make yet”
“But T thought you were an actor,”
she protested.
“1 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 social worker. It
helps me in my work. Studying types
and all that. Then, besides, it keeps
me busy. It's funny we've never met
before, isn't 1t?"
“Yes,” agreed Jean, completely
flabbergasted at the thought of how
her previous opinion of him had col
lapsed. Then, noting the approach of
her car, she turned to him with a
frank smile. “B\“l do hope we meet
again. Call at th®l Chatterton. You'll
ATURDAY, JULY 21, 1917
adjoining dining room giving an or
der to the malid.
“I will tell mother she need not
withdraw herself entirely.” Jack sald
to me: “Shan’t T ask her to come in
here with us for a little while?"”
“Certainly!” 1 agreed,
And I meant it. Mrs. Hampton was
always so self-effacing that it made
me slightly uncomfortable. When
ever I dined with her she would ar
range that Jack and I should have the
drawing room to ourselves after din
ner. She made the excuse that she
had letters to write or something to
attend to elsewhere.
“I will bring her in,” Jack sald now.
1 sat still when he had gone for
her, listening to her low-voiced pro
test. Then, intending to add my per
suasions to Jack's, 1 opened noise
lessly the portiere hanging across the
dining room door. 1 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 lald on
his shoulder, and her arms were
clasped about his neck. His cheek
was pressed to hers.
“My darling boy!” 1 heard her mur
mur, longingly. “My boy!”
Perhaps 1 made some involuntary
sound, 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.
~ *“T declare,” he exclaimed, “you look
as scared as if Louise would resent
'my kissing my own mother!”
‘ “Well, 1 don’t!” 1 strove to reply
naturally and to laugh mirthfully as
I turned away. /
Did T only imagine that I heard her
whispered reproach to this speech of
Jack’'s. She certainly said something
which he tried to contradict, for from
the sudden muffling of his voice 1
knew that she had laid a hand over
his protesting lips.
She came into the drawing room
with her som, but did not sit down.
“Really, dear children,” she said,
“I have some notes that must be writ
ten this evening, and I know that you
two want to talk to each other, as is
natural. I will see you again, Lou
ise, before 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 his 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 abandonment
of tenderness.
“You are naturally very affection
ate, aren’t you, Jack?” I asked him. “I
mean—you are rather effusive with
people whom you layve.”
“T love only two dearly,” he re
joined, “you and mother. And of
course the affection I have for you is
entirely different from that which I
have for her.” |
i He spoke the truth, but I wished
he would say that he loved me better
%tha.n 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
\tlonu.
(To Be Continued.)
find me there.” Then she boarded
the car and was gone. He watched
the car until it was out 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,
* ~ - - . * .
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\zeune
made his entrance Margaret pinched
her friend.
“Why Jean,” she said, in a thnuedl
tone. “He nodded to you. Why—
Jean Carter—are you flirting?”
“Who—with John Packham ?
laughed Jean. “I guess not.” ‘
“John Packham!’” echoed Margaret, |
gasping. “You don't mean—-" |
“Oh, yes, but I do,” assured Jean.
“That was the little sprprise I had
for you.” |
“But you sald he was an idle—"
“And T take it all back.” ‘Then
she blushed vividly. . et 2
apologized to him last night. Then
u;e——we—-—" She stopped in confu
sion.
Margaret looked at her friend, and
something she saw in her eves made
her give Jean a delightful little hug.
The Jury's Difficulty.
‘“Gentlemen of the jury,” said the
‘Judge as he concluded his charge, “if
the evidence shows in your minds that
pneumonia, even Indirectly, was the
‘cause of the man’s death, the prisoner
‘can not be convicted.”
‘ An hour later a messenger came from
the jury room.
l “The gentlemen of the jury, Your
Lordship,"” he said, ‘‘desire information.”
‘ “On what point of evidence?"
| ““None, Your Lordship; they want to
\know how to spell pneumonia!”
~ An Incentive to Progress.
l A verger was doing some decorations
in church when the minister happened
‘to call, and, seeing some tacks lying
‘about the pulpit, he said, “Don't leave
them tacks lying about, William. What
‘would happen if I stepped on one next
Sunday in the middle of the sermon?’
. “Well,” said William, “there would be
one point you wouldn't linger on, any
\vuy."
Our Best Sociely
This Man’s Care of His Animal Helpers Makes Him Eljgible for Mem
bership in. Our Best Society .
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T R BNI DY WS W LTS p® TP v P S T e SRAC S Y o 4w g
bOebT ST D T L 2 oWT ol el e, AR
By Mary Ellen Sigsbee.
HERE is 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 stable for a home. No sunny
pasture for hi mon off days and no cool earth to lie
upon.
Those animals which man hag 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. |
66 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
accoynt of him meeting her chum and
likin§\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 censure them,
or whatever they call it. That's what
they oughta.”
“T think that kind of pictures is
showed to make folks think,” said the
Manicure Lady. “Maybe when a gent
that is inclined to flirt sees a picture
like that he will go home and resolve
not to trifle no more with no young
girl's affection. Anyhow, I hope it
will have that effect, though goodness
knows I never seen the gent yet that
could trifie 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 menacés to the
bullwarks of our civilization, as one
of them lady writers said recently.
Male flirts is worse than female flirts,
btecause most everyone figures out
that gents is sincere when they fall
in love.” .
“ZI was single there wouldn't be
ino ore falling in love for me,” said:
the Head Barber, gloomily, #“I got
still made happy by those things that made his an
cestors happy.
The man in the picture works hard himself. Thers
is 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 or 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, hatd-working crea
tures, and he treats them with that compassion that
marks those who belong to the really best soclety 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 buckstful
of cold water over each tired head.
It is the little things in life that show wheres 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 thywhole.
bawled out good and proper before I
left home this morning because I
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 sO,” said the Head Bar
ber. “Almost any man can play bil
liards well enough to like the game.
It ain’'t much of a trick to learn. You
‘wouldn’t think it was hard if you seen
the shape of some 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 married folks sees eath
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 outside of
pay days my father don't show up
at home to spend the evenings more
than once in a blue moon. He is quite
a club man, and belongs to so many
lodges that when he dies we'll be
awful rich, if the lodges don’t welch.
There ain’t anything father ain't
joined excé€pt lady lodges. Mother
ain't tired of seeing the old gent
hanging around the house, and~she
ain't liable ever to get tired, either.”
“Well, I guess that's a good way to
live this life,” mused the Head Bar-
(":-» w-mm”’ el
farncy LR .
3 ) U_\' Lt
13159 !
Ew., =0 Al
By MARY ELLEN !
SIGSBEE . |
ber. “Couples should stay at home a
lot the first few ysars 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 is a very healthy
town
Mr. Ripple—l must say this town holds
the record for health
Mr. Pipple—My rat;_er died hers at
eighty-four, and my grandfather died at
one hundred and forty.
Mr. Ripple—One hundred and forty?
Mr. Pipple—Broad street
e ———————————————
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