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SATURDAY. MARCH 21.
ffife DAY OF
April #<> D«jrs
14
PROLOGUE.
“It breaks tbe 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
forget about respiration with
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 still
in the offing, you will enjoy
learning how the little spunky
red headed bookkeeper won a
fortune arid an heiress, foiled
all his enemies and had some
of the most amazing adven
tures ever penned—all in less
time than it takes the hour
hand to round the clock dial
twice. •
(Continued from Yesterday)
“Wbai for?"
“The.v'vo got n door through to the
next house—irettl lift out thnt wny
That's wlmt I'm after—to stop ’em
Shut up!" IV Sybarite Insisted savage
ly. "and give me a leg”
Curiously complaisant for one of his
breed, the detective bent hIR back and
niude u stirrup of his clasped hands,
but no Rooner had I* Sybarite fitted
foi4 to that same than the man started
ar' e >straighte:ied up abruptly, throwing
bifti fiat on his back.
“You n patrolman! Whatcha doin'
In them pants and shoes if you're a pa
trol"—
“Hello!" exclaimed the other Indig
nantly. "Impersonatin’ nn officer, eh?"
With this lie dived at P. Sybarite,
who. having bounced up from a supine
to n Kitting position, promptly and
peevishly swore, rolled to one side and
scrambled to Ids feet.
Immediately the other closed in upon
him. supremely confident of overcom
ing by concerted action that smallish,
pale and terrified Ikmlv Whereupon
P. Sybarite stepped (pip-lily to one side
and. avoidin ' tin* rush one. directly
engaged tlie other IcieUing beneath a
■windmill play of antis, lie shot an ac
curate fist at the aggressor’s Jaw.
Theid was a click of teeth, the man’s
head snnpped hack. and. folding up
like a tripod, he subsided at full length
upon the ground.
Then swinging on a heel P. Sybarite
met a second onset made more danger
ous by the cooler calculations of a more
sophisticated antagonist Nevertheless,
deftly blocking a rain of blows, he
closed In ns If eager to escape punish
meet and planted a lifted knee In tbe
large of the detective's stomach so
neatly thnt he. too. collapsed like a
punctured presidential boom and lay
him down to rest.
T’ - next moment, spurred by an
alert discretion. P. Sybarite sealed the
fence with the agility of a back yard
tom cat.
Hard flags received him on the other
aide. Stumbling, he lost balance and
sat down with nn emphasis that drove
the breath from him in one mighty
“Ooof!”
There was a simultaneous confusion
Si new, strange voices on tbe other
of the fence; cries of surprise,
••cognition of tbe two detectives, fol
lowed by;
"Gimme a back np that Once!"
P. Sybarite picked himself up with
even more alacrity than If he’d land
ed In n bed of nettles, tore across that
terra incognita, found a second fence
and was beyond !t In a twinkling.
Swift as he was, however, detection
attended hlm-a voice roaring, “There
goes wan a' fblm now!”
Blindly clearing fence after fence
without even thinking to count them.
P. Sybarite hurtled onward.
But In time be had. of necessity, to
pausv for breath, and pulled up in the
back yard of a Forty-sixth street resi
denee, his duty—to find a way to the
street and a shift from that uniform
of unhappy inspiration—at plain as the
problem it presented.
To break bis way to the street
th ugh one of the houses would be
not only to invite apprehension. It
would he actual burglary.
To continue his headlong career of
the fugitive hack yards’ feline was out
of the question. Gravely he considered
She Inoffensive building whose back
premises he was then Infesting.
It showed no lights, had not an open
window—so far ns could be determined
by straining sight sided only by a fnlni
reflection from the livid skies. But the
DAYS
By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE
Copyright. 1912. bv the Prink A. Mnaaty Co
back of tins house lions toil u Ore >
cape.
By inverting an ash can whlgh kls
met bad disposed convenient to his
hands, and standing on It nn active
man might possibly, if sufficiently drs
perute, manage to jump a vertical
yard, more or less, catch the lower
most grating of the fire escape, draw
himself up and thus ascend.
In r thought P. Sybarite had turned
the galvanized iron cylinder bottom up
and had clambered upon it. and in less
than a brace of minutes P. Rybnriti
at the top was pulling himsolf ginger
ly over the Up of a stone coping.
Surmising that he had attained not
to the roof of the house, but to thnt of
a two story rear extension, he found
himself in what seemed n small roof
garden, made private by awnings and
Venetian blinds.
Stealing softly * on. the darkness
seemed to thicken around him. i’n
canny business this, penetrating nn
known fastnesses of n dark and silon;
house at dead of night, n trespasser mi
able to surmise when the rlgliteon
householder, on familiar ground lurit
lng and vigilant under anus, might n t
open fire.
Nevertheless the police behind him
were a menaee of known caliber
With whatever shrlnkings and dir
misgivings. !’. Sybarite went on.
Without misadventure he gained the
main w: !: of the house and there
found open windows and upon further
cautious Investigation a doorway, like
wise wide, to the bland night air. but
no sound significant of human tenan
cy. In spite of this It was without tin
least confidence that pr s ntly hi
plucked up courage to proceed
Three steps on into darkness and ki
knee foaml u chair that might have
poised itself on one leg in mallclom
ambush, so promptly did It go over
and witli what a racket! Incontinently
something rustled quite near at hand
followed a click—blinding light—a
shrill, excited voice:
“Hands up!”
With a Jerk up went ills hands hlg’
above Ills head Blinking furiously
he comprehended his plight.
The lights ho found so dazzling blazed
from soonces round the walls of a
bedroom more handsome than any lu
had thought ever to see—unless per
haps upon a stage. The voice belonged
to a young woman sitting up In bed
and coolly covering him with the
yawning muzzle of a peculiarly poison
ous looking automatic pistol.
It was astonishingly evident that she
wasn't at all frightened. The arm thai
leveled the weapon a round and
shapely arm, hare to the shoulder—wa
admirably sternly, the rich coloring ot
her distinctly handsome face showed
not a trace of pallor.
Abruptly she dropped her weapot
and sat up yet. stralghter in her hud
died bed clothing, mouth and eyes
widening with astonishment
“Well,” she said quite simply, “i’ll
be hanged if It ain’t a cop!”
4*. Sybarite immediately took occasion
to lower Ids hands to a more comfort
able position.
“Thank God.” he exclaimed fervent
ly. “You’re the oue woman in a thou
sand who knows enough to look be
sere she shoots! Phew I”
Quite naturally he drew a braided
blue cuff across a beaded forehead.
“That’s all very well,” tb* woman
took him up sharply—“but be careful
I don’t shoot after looking. Cop or no
cop, you—what do you want in my
bedroom at this hour of the night?"
“Madam,” P. Sybarite expostulated,
aggrieved, yet with an air of the ut
most candor—“my duty!”
“Duty!” she echoed. “Wb»t do you
think you mean by thnt?”
“Perhaps,” he countered blandly,
“you’re not aware a burglar has passed
through this room?”
"A burglar? What rot!”
“Pardon me, tnadam,” P. Sybarite
lied nonchalantly, "but five minutes ago
I was called In by tbe people in 2SK
Forty-fifth street to nab a burglar
wbo’d broken In there. They thought
they had him locked up safe enough in
one of the rooms, but when they came
to open the door and let me at him—
the bird bad flown. He’d taken a long
chance—swung himself from tbe win
dow ledge to a fire escape five feet
away. I saw him climb your tire es
cape, and so I came after him."
The woman frowned. Would she or
wouldn't she accept that wildly fanci
ful yarn? He made another quick aur
▼ey of the room and a second and
more shrewd appraisal of this admlra
bly self possessed creature.
A bit too florid and ornate, he con
eluded; woman and lodgings alike
were somewhat overdone. A super
abundance of gilt and pink marred the
color scheme of tbe apartment, and
there was ostentatious evidence of
wealth lavishly expended on Its fur
nishings.
Bitting np In bed In silken night
gown, she looked P. Sybarite np and
down with wide eyes ovei*wlse in the
ways of life, shrewdly Judicious of
mankind.
“Maybe you’re telling the truth, at
that,” she announced suddenly, eyes
•OIJI7 unprepossessed. ’’You sound
fishy, and you'ra the sickest looking
cop I ever lnld eyes on. But there are
less unlikely things than that a second
story mnu should try this route for his
getaway. Well.” ahe demanded nil
gently, “whnt're you standing there fhr
like a stone man?"
"My dear lady”— expostulated the
dismayed P. Sybarite.
“If you're n cop go to It—cop some
body," she replied with a brusque lough,
"und then clear out. I enn use the
room and lime you're occupying. Be
sides, you're slipping tbe said burglar
a fine young chance to make tbe front
door, unless he's under the bed "
Mechanically obedient to her suggee
tlou, down P. Sybarite plumped on his
knees, lifted the silken valance at the
foot of the bed. and pretended to ex
plora the darkness thereunder.
While thus occupied and badgering
his addled wits to Invent some plnus
lble wny to elude thia amnion, he was
at once startled and still further dls
maved to hear the bed springs creak,
a light double thump as two bare feet
found the floor and again the woman's
voice flnvorod with acid sarcasm.
“You seem to find it interesting down
there. Is It the view? Or are you try
ing to hypnotize your burglar by the
power of the human eye?”
“It’s pure and simple reverence for
the proprieties,” P. Sybarite replied
without stirring; “keeps me emulating
the foolish ostrich. I don’t pretend It’s
comfortable, hut I. believe me. madiun,
am a plain man. of modest tastes, un
accustomed to’’—
"That," said the lady, smothering a
giggle, “will he about all from you
Get up, or I'll call In n sure enough cop
to search your title to that uniform.”
Hastily P. Sybarite withdrew bis
bend und rose. An embarrassed glance
askance comforted him measurably;
the lady had thrown an exquisite nog
llgee over her night dress nnd had
thrust her pretty feet into extrava
gantly pretty silken slippers.
“Now," snld she tersely, "we’ll comb
the premises for this burglar of yours,
and if we don't find him"—her lips
tightened, her brows clouded ominous
ly—“l promise you sn interesting time
of It Whore's your nightstick?”
With consternation P. Sybarite In
vestigated the vacant loop at bis side.
“Must’ve dropped out while I was
shinning over the back fence," he sur
mised vaguely. "However, I shan’t
need it. This”—with a bright and con
fident smile displaying Penfleld's re
volver—"will do Just as well —better,
In fact."
“That?’’ she questioned. “That’s not
a police department gun. Where'd
you”—
“Oh. yes. It Is. It’s the new pattern
—recently adopted. They’ve Just be
gun to issue 'em. 1 only got mine to
day”—
The lady’s lips curled. “Very well,”
ahe concluded curtly. "1 don’t believe
a word you say, but we’ll see. I warn
yon, find me a burglar—or,” she added
with unmistakable significance, “I'll
find one myself.”
Interpreting the level challenge of
her glance. P. Sybnrite’a heart quaked.
But there wns no use offering resist
ance to the demands of this mnsterfnl
woman. She wns one patiently to be
humored against a more auspicious
turn of n(fairs.
He shrugged, gave tn with a gesture.
Her imperative arm, uplifted, indicat
ed an inner door.
“Flud that burglar. the way
now!”
Awed. P. Sybarite grasped his re
volver and strode to the door with
much dramatic manner, but paused
with a hand on the knob to look over
his shoulder The woman wns there,
not a foot distant, her countenance n
mask of suspicious determination.
He pulled the door open, flung out
Into the hallway, paused again at the
month of the back well of the stair
way.
Behind him the woman snapped on a
switch An electric bulb glared out of
the darkness behind him. And P. Byb
arite, peering down, started back, with
a gasp of amazement that waa instant
ly echoed nt Ills ear.
On the stairs, hnlfwny down, a man
wns crouching in a posture of frozen
consternation, a small electric pocket
lamp burning Brilliantly is one hand,
the other, lifted, grasping a weapon of
some curious sort (In the eyes of P.
Sybarite more than anything else like
a small black cannon), a hatleas man
In evening clothes, his face half blotted
out by a black mask that left uncov
ered only his angular, muscular Jaw
and ugly, twisted mouth.
For a full minute, it aeemed, not one
of the three so much as drew breath.
And then, as if from n heart of agony,
the woman at his side breathed a bro
ken nnd tortured cry;
“You dog! So It has come to murder,
has It?”
Aa if electrified by that ejaculation,
P. Sybarite whipped up Penfleld's re
volver and leveled it at the man on the
stairs.
"Hands up!” be snapped. “Drop that
gun!”
The answer was a singular sound
half a choking cough, half a smothered
bark—accompanied by a Jet of fire from
the odd weapon nnd coincident with
the tinkling of a splintered electric
bulb.
Instantly the hall was again drench
ed in darkness, but little mitigated by
the light from tbe bedroom.
Heedless of consequences, In bis ex
citement V. Sybarite pulled trigger.
The hammer fell ou an empty cham
ber, rose und fell half a dozen timea
without deducing uny response other
than the click of metal against metal,
demonstrating beyond question that
bis revolver was unloaded.
(To Be Continued Tomorrow.)
“i sawTt inThTheral.d”
THE AUGUSTA HERALD. AUGUSTA, GA,
WHISKEY WILL NEVER GET ME!"
So says the self-confident man in this picture, with his
hands in his pockets and a cigarette in his mouth.
And that is exactly what the three miserable whiskey
TODAY-AND TOMORROW
Today Whiskey Is a Friend—lt Does Just What You
Want It to Do and No More—Tomorrow, You Are
Nothing, and Whiskey the .Friend Isa
Friend No Lonqer.
Copyright, 1914, by Star Company.
See the self confident philosopher in this picture.
He has taken “just one drink,’’ just what he thinks he
needs, “about three fingers of whiskey.”
He has philosophized a little with the bartender—
who keeps his job BECAUSE HE DOESN’T DRINK WHIS
KEY. Now the “moderate whiskey drinker” is on his way
philosophizing all by himself.
He looks at the three poor, whiskey soaked creatures
standing together, despises them and applauds himself.
“Whiskey can never get me,” sayß he.
He doesn’t see the little picture down at the bottom of
Tad’s cartoon. That little picture shows those three whis
key victims a few years ago, when they wore “moderate
whiskey drinkers” and when they wondered also how any
man could be such a fool as to let whiskey get control
of him.
Remember that whiskey is a poison. Any man who
takes a poison, whether it be morphine, opium, cocaine,
whiskey, gin or brandy, will find that his system little by
little demands AND GETS MORE OF THE POISON.
A man who is clear and clean, with good blood and
good nerves and a little tired, can take a drink of whis
key, or one small dose of some drug, and find that it does
“exactly what he wants it to do.”
But, after he has taken that one dose of poison HIS
BODY, BLOOD AND NERVES ARE NOT WHAT THEY
WERE BEFORE.
The next time, they want a little more.
In the case of morphine, opium and cocaine, the work
is very fast, the destruction takes a short time.
In the case of the alcoholic poisons, whiskey and gin,
the work is slower as a rule, BUT IT IS JUST AS SURE.
We print this picture and write this whiskey editorial
as we have printed and written hundreds of others—for
the good of young men, and for the protecton of old men.
We are not here to preach, but to tell facts and il
lustrate them vividly.
This newspaper does not advocate prohibition—the
vidtims said years ago.
If you know anybody who knows to© much about whiskey
hand him the editorial in the left-hand column on this page.
rule of a majority by a minority iB not the method by
which human beings are improved.
Men must work out their salvation through self-con
trol.
But we do advocate laws regulating the sale of ALL
poisons.
We see no reason why cocaine, opium and morphine,
more swift but no more deadly than whiskey or gin, should
be controlled, while whiskey and gin are not controlled.
Wc know that for one man in thiß country ruined by a
drug there are a hundred ruined by whiskey, which is
only another di*ug.
We know that drunkenness is caused largely by pov
erty, and that the self-satisfied temperate man is usually
the prosperous individual free from the lash of care and
misery.
But we know that it is not necessary to control men or
to try to put a nation on the same basis as an Asiatic na
tion in order to conquer drunkenness.
It would be possible to forbid the sale of the poisonous
alcoholic drinks, while permitting the sale of the milder
drinks—just as we forbid the sale and the public smoking
of opium, while permitting the sale of and use of tobacco
and the milder narcotics. You can find entire nations that
smoke tobacco without serious injury—although, perhaps,
they would be better off without it.
And you can find an entire nation smoking opium,
and sunk in degradation.
You can find entire nations using the mild stimulants,
light wines and light beers.
You would find the same nations sunk in hopeless
drunkenness if whiskey were forced upon them in place of
the milder drinks.
Lawmakers and the citizens at the polls must decide
what shall be done about whiskey and gin.
BUT YOU CAN DECIDE FOR YOURSELF.
Any bartender will tell you that he knows what is
going to happen to the cocktail drinker and the whiskey
drinker.
Any doctor will tell you that the difference between
whiskey and beer is as great as the difference between
opium and tobacco.
If you want to reach the highest success in the short
est possible time DRINK NOTHING except water.
In any case, if you want to avoid failure, keep away
from ALL OF THE DRUGS, the drugs that are sold by the
chemist under restriction of law, and the poisons called
whiskey and gin that any man may sell who is willing to
pay the license of a thousand dollars or less for the priv
ilege of poisoning his fellowmen.
LEAVE WHISKEY ALONE.
THREE