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SATURDAY. MARCH 14* April so Dayr 14 PROLOGUE "// breaks the speed limit to smithereens. '* That’s a candid opinion about this story. There may have been swifter tales, but not re cently. It's an aeroplane of a yarn, moving so fast that you lose your breath while you fol low it. But you don't need any breath, anyway, because you for get about respiration vsith your eyes on reading of this kind. Every man has his day of days. Yours may have come and you may be swimming in the full tide of fortune. If so, read how P Sybarite found his. If your own ship is s:ill in the offing, you will enjoy learning how the little spunky red headed bookkeeper won a fortune and an heiress, foiled all his enemies and had some of the most amazing ad ventures ever penned —all in less time than i! takes the hour hand to round the clock dial twice. CHAPTER I. The Dub. »»MEM.." P. Sybarite mused aloud. For nn Instant lie was si lent tn depression Then with extraordinary vehemence he continued crescendo, “Stupid stadium t-sepnli lira l eemplternally-stioky smell!" He paused for both breath and ■words, pondered with Itended bead, knitting his brows forbiddingly “Stench!" he perorated In a voice tremulous with emotion Even that comprehensive nionosylla ble was far from satisfactory “Oh, what’s the use?" I’. Sybarite despaired. His mother tongue itself seemed poverty stricken, his native wit Inadequate. Perched on the polished seat of a very tall stool, his slender legs frater nising with Its legs In apparently incx trlcable Intimacy, sharp elbows dig ging Into the nickel and Ink stained bed of a counting house desk, chin some six Inches above the pages of a huge leather covered ledger, hair rum pled and fretful, mouth doleful, eyes disconsolate—he gloomed— On this, the eve of his thirty-second birthday and likewise the tenth anni versary of his servitude, the appear ance of P. Sybarite was elaborately normal—varying, as It did. but slightly from one year's end te the other. Hls occupation had fitted his head and shoulders with a deceptive but none the less perennial stoop. His means bad endowed him with a single outworn suit of ready made clothing The ruddy brown hair thatching hls well modeled bead, hls sanguine color lng, friendly blue eyes and mobile lips suggesting Irish lineage, and hls hands which, though thin and clouded with smears of Ink. were strong and grace ful like the slender feet In his shabby shoes, carried out the suggestion with an added hint of gentle blood. The place was the counting room in the warehouse of Messrs. Wbigbam & Wlmper, hides and skins. The warehouse—lmpregnable lair of the smell, from which it leered smug defiance at the sea sweet atmosphere of the lower city on a sunny April Saturday afternoon—occupied a walled in arch of the Brooklyn bridge, front ing on Frankfort street. New York. Immured In this retreat. P. Sybarite was very much shut away from all Joy of living—alone with hls sls Job (which at present nothing pressed), with giant despair and Its Interlocutor ennui, and with that blatant, brutish, implacable smell of smells. To all of these, abruptly and with ceremony. Mr. George Bross. shipping clerk. Introduced himself, a brawny young man In shirt gleeves, wearing a visorless cap of soiled linen. In one band be carried nn envelope. “Oh. you"— said George, and checked to enjoy a rude giggle. Presently be controlled hls mirth sufficiently to per mlt of unctuous enunciation of the fol lowing cryptic exclamation: “Oh. you. Perceval!” P. Sybarite turned pale. “You little rascal!” continued George, brandishing the envelope. “You’re a sly one, you are, always signin' your name *P. Sybarite’ and pretendin’ your maiden raonnker was ‘Pete.’ But now we know you. Take off them whisk ers—Perceval!" A really wise mind reader would have calied a policeman then and there, for mayhem was the least of the crimes contemplated by P. Syba rite. “If that letter's for me.” he said quietly, “give It here, please.” "Special d'liv'ry—jus' come.” an nounced Georg* "Oh, you Percev*|_ Esquire!" me DAY OF DAYS By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE Copyright, 1912, by the Frink K. Mumey Co The letter wits torn rudely from his grasp. "Here!” he cried resentfully, "Where's your nmnners—Perceval!” Dumb with impotent rnge, P. Syba rite climbed back on his stool, while George sat down at his desk und. with a leer, wutched the bookkeeper care fully slit the envelope and withdraw Its Inclosures. Ignoring him, P. Sybarite ran bis eye through the few Hues of notably cure less feminine bandwriting: My Dear Perceval—Mother and 1 had planned to take some friends to the then ter tonight and bought a box for th < Knickerbocker several weeks ago, bul now we have decided to go to Mrs. Had ley-Owen's post Lenten masquerade bull Instead, and as none of our friends can use the tickets 1 thought possibly you might like them. They say Otis Skinner Is wonderful. Of course you may not care to sit In a stago box without a dress suit, but perhaps you won't mind. If you do maybe you know somebody else who could go properly dressod. Your affectionate cousin, MAE ALYS. Drawing to him one of the W'hlg ham Si Wlmpor letterheads, P. Bylia rite dipped n pou. considered briefly, and wrote rapidly and freely in a mi nute hand: My Dear Mae Alys—Every man has his price. You know mine. Pocketing false pride. 1 accept your bounty with all the gratitude and humility becoming In a pool relation And If arrested for appearing In the box w ithout evening clothes I promise solemnly to brazen It out. pretend that I bought the tickets myself or stole them and keep the newspapers ignorant of our kinship Pear not. trust me and enjoy the masque us much as 1 mean to enjoy the play. And if you would do me the greatest ot favors, should you ever again find an ex cuse to write me on any matter, please address me by the initials of my ridicu lous first name only It Is, of course, im possible for me to live down the deep damnation of having been born a Syba rite, but the Indulgence of my friends can save me the further degradation of be ing known as ;i Perceval. With thunks renewed and profound. X remain, all things considered, remotely yours, P. SYBARITE. This la* settled and addressed In a stamped envelope; then he slued round nil Ids stool to blink pensively at Mr. Press. That gentleman having some time since despaired of any response to his persistent baiting was now preoccu pied with a band mirror and endeav oring to erase the smudge of marking ink from Ills face with a handkerchief "It's no use. George,” observed P. Sybarite presently. Try soap and wa ter. I know It’s painful, bg.it, believe me, It's the only way. I’m going to shut up shop In just five minutes, and If you don't want to show yourself on the street looking like a difference of opinion between a bull calf and n fountain pen”— “Gotcha.” interrupted George, rising and putting away handkerchief and mirror. “I’ll drown myself if you say so. Anythin's better'n letting you talk me to denth.” “One thing more.” Splashing rigorously at the station ary wash stand. George looked gloom ily over his shoulder and In sepulchral accents littered the one word: “Shoot!” “How would you like to go to the theater tonight?” “I’d like it so hard,” George replied, “that I’m already dated up for nn evenin’ of lntellect’l enjoyment. M* and Sammy Holt’s goln’ round to Mi ner’s Eight’ avenoo and bust up the Bhow." “I mean a regular show, at a Broad way house.” “Quit your klddin’,’’ countered Mr. Bross Indulgently. “Come along; I got an engagement to walk home and save a nickel, and so’ve you.” “Walt a minute,” insisted P. Sybar ite, without moving. "I’m in earnest about this. I offer you a seat in a stage box at the Knickerbocker thea ter tonight to see Otis Skinner in ‘Kis met,’ with Miss Prim, Miss Lessing and myself—on one condition.” “Go to it’’ "You must promise me to quit call ing me Perceval, here or any place else, today and forever! And never tell anybody, either." George hesitated. “And what if I keep on?” “Then I’ll make up my theater party without you—aDd break your neck Into the bargain,” said P. Sybarite. “You?” George laughed derisively. “You break my neck? Can the comedy, beau. Why. I could eat you alive, Per ceval.” “We’re going to settle this question befere you leaue this warehouse. I won't be called Perceval by you or any other pink eared cross between Ba laam's nss and a laughing hyena." Mr. Bross gaped with resentment. “You won’t, eh?" be said strident ly. “I like to know what you're going to do to stop me, Perc”— P. Sybarite stepped quickly toward him, and George, with a growl, threw out his bands In a manner based upon s somewhat hazy conception of the for mula of self defense. Then— George Bross sat up on the dusty, grimy floor, batted his eyes, ruefully rubbed the back of bis bead and mar veled at the reverberations inside It “Bay.’’ he ejaculated, with fervid feeling, “did you do that to iue?" "1 did." returned P. Sybarite curtly. "Want me to prove It?” "Plenty, thanks," returned the ship ping clerk movosely as he picked him seif up and dusted off his clothing. “Gee, you got a wallop like the kick ot a mule. Per"— "Cut that!" "P. S., I mean," George amended hastily. “Why didn't you over tell me you won the Big Smoke's sparrtn' part ner?" "I'm not mid never was, and further more I didn't hit you," replied P. Syba rite. "All I did was to let you fall over iny foot and butnp your head on the floor. Better accept my offer and be friends." “Never call yon Per"— • "Don't say It!” "Oh. all right—all right." George agreed plaintively. "And If I promise I’m In on that theater party?" " "That’s my offer." “It’s hard,” George sighed regretful ly. "But whatever you say goes, i'll keep your secret." "Good!” P. Sybarite extended one of his small, delicately modeled hands. "Shake," said he. smiling wistfully. P. Sybarite and Mr. Bross, with at least every outward semblance of com plete amity were presently swinging shoulder to shoulder up tbe sunny side of lower Broadway. “Lls'n,” George interjected of a sud den. "I wanna know where you pick ed up all that classy footwork?” “Oh," returned P. 8. carelessly, "I used to spar a bit with the fellows when I was at—ah—when I was young er." “Huh! You mean when you wns at colledge.” “Please yourself,” said P. Sybarite wearily. “Well, you was at colledge oncet, wasn’t you?" "I was.” P. S. admitted with reluct ance. “but I never graduated. When I wns twenty-one 1 had to quit to go to work for Whighnm & Whimper.” “G’wnn!" commented the other. "They ain’t been In business twenty years.” “I’m only thirty-one.” “More news for Sweeney. You’ll nev or see forty agnln. Your people had money, didn’t they, oncet?” "I’ve been told so. but if true it only goes to prove there's nothing in the theory of heredity.” “1 gotcha,” announced Bross, upon prolonged and painful analysis. “How?” asked P. Sybarite, who had fallen to thinking of other matters. “I mean. I Just dropped to your high sign to mind my own business. All right, P. S. Par be it from me to wanta pry into your past” He was a man of his word, was George Bross; not for anything would he have gone back on his promise to keep secret that afternoon's titillating discovery; likewise he was a covetous soul, loath to forfeit the promised treat, but one way or another, that day's humiliation must be balanced. How to compass i ils desire, frankly puzzled him. It were cowardly to contemplate knocking the block otf’n P. Sybarite, the disparity of their statures forbade; moreover, George en tertained a vexatious suspicion that P. Sybarite's explanation on his recent downfall had uot been altogether dig ingenuous. Suddenly It was borne in upon the shipping clerk that in the probable ar rangement of the proposed party be would be expected to dance attendance upon Miss Violet Prim, leaving P. Sybarite free to devote himself to Miss Lessing. And he scowled darkly. “P. S.’s got his nerve with him,” be protested privately, “to cop out the one pippin in the bouse all for his lonely. It’s a wonder he wouldn’t slip her a chanct to enjoy herself with summon her own age. “Not.” he admitted ruefully, “that I’d find It healthy to pull any rough stuff with VI lookin' on.” Then he made an end to envy for the time being, and turned his attention to more pressing concerns. And when, at Thirty-eighth street, the latter made au excuse to part with George, Instead of going home In his company, tbe shipping clerk was too thoroughly dis gusted to question the subterfuge. Turning west, he wns presently prompted by that arch comedlnn Des tiny (disguised ns thirst) to drop into Clancy’s for a shell of beer. Now. in Clancy’s George found a crumpled copy of an evening paper al most afloat on tbe high tide of the dregs drenched bar. Rescuing the sheet, he smoothed it out and con templated a two column reproduction in a coarse half tone of a photograph entitled "Marian Blesslngton." Slowly the confusion and confound ing of P. Sybarite took shape and ma tured. He left Clancy's presently, stepping high, with a mind elate, foretasting victory, , Meanwhile. P. Sybarite walked slowly on up Broadway a little way, then doubled on bis trail, going softly until a swift aud stealthy survey west ward from the corner of Thirty-eighth street assured him that George was not skulking to spy upon him. Thus re assured. be mended his pace and held briskly on toward the shopping dis trict Ris hour was fleeting. In twenty minutes It would be 6 o'clock. At C sharp Blesslngton’s would close Its doors. Distressed, he scurried on. crossed Thirty-fourth street, aimed himself courageously for the wide en trance of the department store, battled manfully through the retreating array of feminine shoppers and gained the ladles' glove counter with a scant flf teen minutes to spare. He found him self before a fair young woman, with a pleasant manner. (To Be Continued Tomorrow.) THE AUGUSTA HERALD. AUGUSTA. GA- 4B fp y\ Jm mIl M V - \' . afli" ■ n*V¥ A. SENTIMENTAL EPISODE “How Dare You! I Shall Call the Hall Boy and Have You Put Out,” She Said. “ ‘Nothing Doing, Lady,” ’ Was the Reply Made As He Gazed At Her Shrewdly, Opening His Coat and Displaying a Badge. I noticed her first In the lounge of the Splendid, and 1 smiled sympathec lcally at the obvious devotion of the boyish young ewaln who bent over her chair. She was so slim and fresh, so charmingly Ingenue, that I had stop ped Involuntarily to stare, and was nearly knocked over by a burly man whose gaze was also fixed on the pretty young thing. He apologized, and 1 shook myself impatiently and went out and up the street. Fate and a for mathematics have made me a sehoolma’am, but I 'have a throbbing mother-heart. 1 adore slim, pretty girls, yearn over them. As I went into Deere and Stone’s I was thinking that, If I had bpen blessed with a daughter, 1 should have liked her to look Just, like that—young, sweet and unspoll id. “Pardon me, madnme, but I believe this Is yours," I turned and met the laughing eyes of the girl herself, holding out a fringed velvet, bag. I looked in bewilderment at my empty arm, where my velvet bag had hung. "Dear me, so It is," I fussed. "I't very kind of you, I'm sure.” "j am bo glad I found It.” She went on with a little a laughing nod, and I was turning back to the neck wear when I noticed the man who had nearly knocked me over the Splendid entering the door It flashed upon me Instantly that he was following the girl, and I felt my face flushing with Indignation. Unhesitatingly 1 turned and went after him, with a sosr of protective rage for the pretty child In my heart. She was leaving the shop by a side entrance, with the man a few yards behind, as I caught sight of them. I hurried breathlessly after, ready to summon an officer directly he ap proached her. But he seemed In no hurry to do bo, and she took Inr leaHurely way toward Husbarn, lin gering now and then before a shop window. I Telt rather ridiculous as I took a seat. In the tram opposite the brute, hut determined to see the affair through. He sat in a cornet on the same side as the girl, and 1 at once discovered that, he was star ing hard at her reflection in the win dow behind me. With a fresh surge of protecting rage, ( crossed over and sat down beside her." “My read child, do you mind If 1 come over and talk to you?’’ I began. She raised her wide, sweet eyes to mine. “It’s lovely of you,” said she, and there was a little quaver in her voice. “You've seen that horrid man follow lng me, haven’t you? DOu you know him?' 1 She seemed rather unnerved, I thought, and I regretted that I had not Interfered before. “Perhaps 1 shouldn’t alarm you, HELPING IT ALONG "on* sapic.i xw ntlfcL with a ? fcLLPwv IflW NkiHT I WON PflK If * T ODPP WILSON." MARY *- HAVE YOU HfcARC TMe LATEST NVRTUE ETHEL AND (HW WlL>a* 15 »N Uvt WITH CftCH OYHCK. racy* **- OAtrCO Mib POYLe:—- "DEBT. I HCAK OUPP WILSON l 4? TO MAKRN £THf L IHLMOKt i wcll pc iNYirep ro rHP weppiN«r? I said, "but I saw him watching you at the Splendid—'horrid creature! What a pitiful Hhame that, a young girl's freshneHß should make tier a target for such annoying attentions. “I do not mind being stared ai an much,” she said plaintively, “but this man ling followed me before, and I live all alone, and sometimes I'm afraid." “My dear child!” I cried, honestly fihorked. “Surely you have a home parents.” "Not In Ix>ndon,” ghe Interrupted Blrrnply. "You gee, I make fashion sketches. I am a bachelor girl." I gmlled gadly at the pride In her voice. I’m forty, and I’ve “bached' It mygelT for fifteen yearg, and know all the realities of bachelor-girl life, It'g makegghiftg and depressing, ag well a« Itg Independence. She re turned my gmlle a little wistfully, and her eyes crept futlvely toward the man in the corner. “We’re gieterg In the working world," I suggested. “Why not come and have a cup of tea at. rny room if. and Incidentally we’ll loge the crea ture?" "ft, would he lovely,” ghe agreed. But the brute followed us off, and I was about to appeal to a policemen when the girl took charge In a man ner that astounded me. She hoarded u crowded tram-car, pushed her way to the top, ran down the front stairs, Jumped off and into a vacant taxi at the kerb, I followed, stiffing, In her wake. As bachelor girls go, I’m prosper ous enough, but I do not affect taxis, and I confess I was a hit awed. "But. what address did you give th i chauffeur?" I demanded. “Mine Is -the Slene Mansions." ’’Well,” she smiled wickedly, "I the Seine Mansions." Khe paid the chauffeur hls robber’s fee ,and went up. "You live alone, too?" she asked. “Oh, hut I'm old and hardened and withered —It doesn’t matter," I ejac ulated, “but you—why?" I looked up at. her and hesitated. She was young and charming, hut I was struck with a certain sophistica tion, a poise that I had missed be fore. "I'm young—but oh, so wise.” She had thrown off her handsome coat and stole, and stood before a little "Whistler” that hud cost me many a privation. “You know he can't draw, of course?" she said argumentatively, while 1 lighted the flame under my copper kettle. We threshed out Whistler s art at shreds, and then we drifted to hooks. With the second cup of tea our discussion grew fiery. 0 © © She wag a Pagan, a cynical soulless creature, that young fresh, pure-faced thing, and ghe left me aghast at her daring. 1 Showed her my three little rooms and kitchenette proudly. She wag charmingly interested In every thing, even the dumb waiter. Before we had returned to the living room the hell pealed violently. I answer ed It, annoyed that the hall-boy should have let anyone up uniin nounced. Standing there, with a leering smile was the brute. Hasttl;. I adjusted the patent door bar. “I want to gpeak to the other one. he said, trying to tpeer over my shoulder. I smiled scornfully. ' You are a brute, aren't you?" I said. "How dare you! I shall call the hall-hoy and have you put one.” "Nothing doing, lady." Ho gazed at me shrewdly. "Do you know you've got a dip In there?” “A dip!” I stared. “You're crazy! What Ih a dip, please?” “A thief, lady,” he exclaimed In) patiently. Opening hla coat, he dis played a badge. “I'm a plain-clothes man." I lei down the bar. “It's absurd," I gald shortly. “Hut you can come In and convince yourself ' He followed me Into the living room, and I looked about In amaze ment the girl had gone “Flown,” said the detective brief ly. “Is there another door?” I shook m., head dumbly, and fol lowed him as he examined the kitch enette. He Jerked open the dumb waiter door, and gazed down Its black, 111-sinelllrig shaft "Roomy enough," he muttered. “She’s only a slip of a thing.” “But how do you know?” I volun teered timidly. "W-what did ghe— did ,ghi' ’’ He looked at me In open disgust. "A diamond pendant that’s all. I wanted to get the goods on her bet ghe’s got 'em, too, hut I ain't ho cer tain. My partner Is watching her pul —he slipped It to her at the Splen did." T could only gape at him aghasi, us he picked Up his hat and started out “She's made her getaway by now, I reckon,” he grumbled. "1 didn't exactly size you up, nor why she was stringing you.” Then he stopped. But would you mind telling me, lady, why you Interfered?” I flushed crimson. "I thought you were trying—trying to gpeak to her.' I stammered With a half-muttered ejaculation he disappeared. / Afterwards I looked distractedly about for rny velvet bag. It wan gone —with my purse and my mother's watch! It's Incredible, preposterous, hut t must believe It's true This morning the hag came hack by messenger, with Its contents untouched. There was a note, too. In a sprawling, girl ish hand: "Dear Protector —You were awfully kind sorry I couldn't know you bet ter. I hail to fake the bag because, you see, the pendant was in It. 1 SlUHfc: I tip-AH O &VPO WILSON AMO ’CrHICi- FILHIOHfE. vytlVfc. TOOfcTHC H LA*>T NK.HT THCV HAVE ot£N merry thick lately i rtcA*v., marv. MYKTLe.- WHAr PO YOG THIN tv I HC4KC7, MR3. FOYLE 4 OUPP nilnon er««ri_ fine Povi.es * WT|»fc NfWS l> OUT YOU MNP erweu filmoke mre ro makriep" POPP •• vou poWy sav* YHE NAME So*/NPi FA MIC l AH ** Q'Cfy. slipped It Into your bag before I re turned the hag to you for safe-seep ing If the detectives picked me up- It was a close call. But I couldn't lose the pendant. Wo —my husband and I -are stilling tomorrow for a loni rest. Good-bye.’’ And for once I am glad I never had a daughter. THE HUMAN SIDE OF WORK Redfield Says a New Era la Dawning In Nation’* Industry. Young America Will Be Fitted for Life By Education, the Secretary Says, and Empoloyer* Will See the Workingman’s Side. Suppose every hoy and girl knew how to do well some one simple kind of productive work. It would revo lutionize your factories and your homes. This Is that to which we are coming. If we were to cultivate all our ara ble land, on the lihhls of the results wo are now getting on the 12 per cent of It which Is yielding maximum returns, wo should again more than double the total. Another grout factor has come Tt is the wisdom which teaches us that the human side of our factories Is more valuable than the mechanical or the material si le - From a speech by the Secretary of Commerce, Wil liam (!. Redfield, EASIER TO GET OUT THAN TO GET IN The literary test will stick, and a number of our political leaders who go abroad will do well carefully to es tablish their citizenship If they expect to return, AND THAT 18 A CONSERVATIVE EBTIMATE. A railroad foolishly boasts that It uses 35,000,000 pins In a year. We seem to remember luting taken that many out a dress shirt before we could put It on at all. LOOKS LIKE COLLUBION. A small sack was spilled from a West Store train and a lot of letters .containing contractors checks wero ground to pulp. Has the railroad gono Into the sinlser husienss of destroying evidence? The model school at Bryn Mawr, f’a., at the entrance to the col lege, has been made on open-air school. Only the dressing-room and laboratories will he Indoors. There will be seven separate, one story, out-of-door class-room# facing full south. Each class room opens on ft large uncovered platform **3l) feet, which will he used for the gymnsetlcs and sies tas that are part of open-air school work. I tin the theory that healthy chil dren should have the frcsh-alr benefits usually reserved for the Plckly, Superintendent Wheatly, of Middletown, Conn., has Introduced it modified open-window plan throughout his entire school sys tem. THREE <a> @