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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