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Patterns You’ll Use
Repeatedly With Joy
OpWO-PIECE styles like 1768 are
A very smart, this new season,
and this is a particularly good one,
vith wide-shouldered, tiny-waisted
acket-blouse, and flaring skirt, to
jive you the hour-glass silhouette.
Smart in faille, wool crepe or vel
reteen. Can be made with long
ir short sleeves.
Dart-Fitted Slip.
Large women, to whom fit is all
important, will revel in the smooth
slimness of this dart-fitted slip,
with darts not only at the waist-
I* A* • V -/
I ■ / I I
r> \ r
Ze ♦ I J
11 1
/ *1 h ksw I I
* « o ♦ f Bra I fl
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line, but also under the arms, to
ensure correct ease over the bust.
Make it either with built-up shoul
ders or ribbon straps. It is per
fectly flat over the diaphragm.
And so easy to make! Only four
steps in the detailed sew chart
that comes with your pattern,
\B2l.
The Patterns.
No. 1768 is designed for sizes 14,
16, 18, 20, 40 and 42. Size 16 re
quires 3% yards of 39-inch materi
al without nap, with short sleeves;
4'/a yards with long sleeves; %
yard trimming.
No. 1821 is designed for sizes
36, 38, 40, 42, 44, 46, 48, 50 and 52.
Size 38 requires 3 yards of 39-inch
material with built-up shoulders;
2% yards with straps; 1 yard rib
bon.
Send your order to The Sewing
Circle Pattern Dept., Room 1324,
211 W. Wacker Dr., Chicago, 111.
Price of patterns, 15 cents (in
coins) each.
(Bell Syndicate—WNU Service.)
FOR CHILLS
AND FEVER
And Other Malaria
Misery!
Don’t go through the usual Malaria
suffering! Don’t go on shivering
with chills one moment and burn
ing with fever the next
Malaria is relieved by Grove’s
Tasteless Chill Tonic. Yes, this
medicine really works. Made espe
cially for Malaria. Contains taste
less quinidine and iron.
Grove's Tasteless Chill Tonic ac
tually combats the Malaria infec
tion in the blood. Relieves the
wracking chills and fever. Helps
you feel better fast.
Thousands take Grove’s Tasteless
Chill Tonic for Malaria and swear
by it. Pleasant to take, too. Even
children take it without a whimper.
Act fast at first sign of Malaria.
Take Grove’s Tasteless Chill Tonic.
At all drugstores. Buy the large
size as it gives you much more for
your money.
In Retrospect
The miracle of memory is that
so much of its bitter dregs fall
away and Me lost in retrospect.—
John Cowper Powys.
Cellophane-wrapped—guan
anteed accurate aspirin.
St. Joseph.
GENUINE PURE ASPIRIN
Brings Good Fortune
Diligence is the mother of good
fortune.—Cervantes.
Today’s popularity
of Doan’s Pills, after
many years of world
wide use, surely must
beaccepted as evidence
of satisfactory use.
And favorable public
' opinion supports that
of the able physicians
who test the value of
Doan’s under exactins
laboratory conditions.
SIMPLY J
These physicians,
too, approve every word of advertising
you read, the objective of which is only to
recommend Doan’s Pills ai a good diuretic
treatment for functional kidney disorder
and for relief of the pain and worry it
causes.
If more people were aware of how the
kidneys must constantly remove waste
that cannot stay in the blood without in
jury to health, there would be better un
derstanding of why the whole body suffers
when kidneys lag, and diuretic medica
tion would be more often employed.
Burning, scanty or too frequent urina
tion may be warning of disturbed kidney
function. You may suffer nagging back
ache, persistent headache, attacks of diz
ziness, getting up nights, swelling, puffi
ness under the eyes—fed weak, nervous,
all played out.
Use Doan’s Pills. It is better to rely on
a medicine that has won world-wide ac
claim than on something less favorably
known. Ask your neighbor!
IDOANSPILLS
THREE SHUTTERED HOUSES
By BEN AMES WIILIAMS
Copyrtohf—WNU SBMCI
CHAPTER Xl—Continued
—ll—
— Mrs. Taine added, in her
slow, precise fashion: “We have no
information to give you. My moth
er was in bed and asleep. I was
With her. My son Asa was asleep
in the dining-room. My husband
was at home. My son Rab was in
Providence. Miss Leaford was—l
don’t know where. I knew nothing
till the electric lights went out, and
I started to look at the fuse-box,
and saw the flames from the pantry
window.”
Rab insisted: “Gentlemen, you
can’t annoy these ladies! They have
suffered—”
But Mrs. Taine said quietly:
“Nonsense, Rab. It is not a ques
tion of annoyance, or of endurance.
I do not choose to be questioned;
that is all.” She repeated: “And I
wish this dangerous gossip stopped,
now.” She nodded toward the door
in a gesture of dismissal.
Tope said gently: “I see you
burned your hand!”
Mrs. Taine eyed him steadily.
“Yes, when I lighted one of the
lamps,” she said. “The match
head—”
But Rab cried bitterly: "‘Gentle
men, I won't permit this! You must
go.”
Tope looked to Inspector Heale
for guidance; and the other yielded.
Bo the two men came out together;
and out of doors, in the lee of the
house, sheltered from the rain,
Heale mopped his brow.
Chief Mason stopped, and turned;
and Tope with a nod toward the ru
ins of the burned houses asked:
“You think you can find anything
in there?”
“It will be a piece of luck if we
do,” the Chief confessed. “Arson’s
always hard to prove.” He added:
“There was a gas-explosion, sure.
And by the way the fire ripped up
through that laundry-chute, I should
think oil had been poured down the
chute, or gasoline. It’s not likely
we’ll find anything, but we might.”
And he said grimly: “But I’ll go
through the ashes with a sifter. If
there’s anything there, I mean to
get it. Old Denman Hurder was a
gentleman. He always had a word
for any man on the street. I liked
him.”
“He’s still alive,” Tope pointed
out.
“He’s full of smoke, and gas too,”
Mason replied. “Must have had
enough gas to kill him.”
“No chance it was accident?”
Tope asked soberly.
“Might have been,” the Chief
grudgingly assented. “There was a
gas-leak somewhere. The cellar and
their room must have been full of
it. And crossed wires sputtering
might have set it off. The place
was a firetrap. Mr. Hurder had
had electric lights put in, with a de
cent installation, but then the others
connected up to his line, and did the
work themselves. Poor job, prob
ably. It’s a wonder they hadn’t
had trouble before.”
Tope nodded, and he asked: “Then
how do you know it wasn’t just
crossed wires, and a leaky union in
the gas-line?”
The Chief said honestly: “I don’t
know how I know. But when you’ve
been in this business as long as I
have, there are some fires that don’t
smell right; that’s all. You get a
hunch they’re wrong, without know
ing why.”
The Inspector looked at him ap
provingly. He had observed some
thing of the sort himself, so many
times. He inquired:
“Chief, were you slow in answer
ing the alarm tonight?”
“Don’t think so,” the Chief as
sured him. “I wasn’t there, but
nobody said anything about a de
lay.”
“I’d like to know what time the
alarm came in,” Tope told him.
“And what time the first apparatus
got here.”
“I’ll get it for you,” the Chief
promised. He turned back to the
dying fire.
Tope and Inspector Heale went
on to the police car beside the road;
and Heale confessed in an irascible
tone: “We’ve got almighty little to
go on, Tope. No place to begin.”
“I like to find out as much about
the time things happened as I can,”
Tope suggested. “Let’s drive down
right now and check up on that
telephone-call. Nothing to do here
till daylight, anyway.”
Heale agreed; so they departed
on this mission. Heale phoned to
ask the Providence police to make
inquiries about Rab Taine; and they
got from Fire Headquarters a rec
ord of the alarm. Then Providence
called back; Heale answered, and
reported to Tope, with a dry amuse
ment:
“Here’s something! Rab Taine was
there, all right; but he wasn’t alone.
‘Mr. and Mrs.’ Registered in, under
his own name, late last night,
checked out about midnight, after
he got a phone call.”
Tope felt his pulses quicken; and
Heale commented: “Pretty cool
proposition, going off on a spree,
with his grandpa dead at home.”
He seemed to see no more in the
Incident than an ugly intrigue, and
Tope offered no comment. So pres
ently they drove back up Kenesaw
Hill. There they could only wait,
while the embers of the Hurder
house still smoked and steamed. In
spector Heale went presently to
sleep, here beside Tope in the car.
A gray and miserable dawn came
at last, through the drenched and
sodden trees to reveal the desola
tion here. Where the Hurder house
had stood was a black pit now, with
embers and half-burned timbers
scattered all around. Firemen were
busy; and steam still rose from the
embers. Dawn became day, and In
spector Heale woke, and took Tope
away to breakfast and brought him
back again.
They could only wait; and it was
near noon when they got back to
Kenesaw Hill. The Chief at last
came swiftly toward them, with
something in his hand. He extend
ed it triumphantly. “There, look
at that!” he cried.
Tope saw what it was: a large
fuse of the sort used in electric cir
cuits designed to carry a consider
able current. It was a cylinder
“You’re fine, Miss Leaford,"
Tope said. “This is hard for you,
and I know it and understand."
some three inches long, with brass
or copper ends, of heavy waxed
cardboard composition.
At one place this tough composi
tion, harder than wood, had been
whittled with a knife till the soft
metal conveyer within was exposed.
This metal now was fused. The com
position was smutted all around the
opening. The whole was set as
though it had lain in water.
And Chief Mason cried tri
umphantly: “There you are! That’s
how it was done."
Tope turned the thing in his hand.
“Just how do you mean?” he asked.
And the Chief explained:
“Someone turned on the gas in
the cellar, let it run for a while;
then he short-circuited the light
wires, somehow, and blew this fuse.
The flash would set off the gas.”
And he added: “It was a piece of
luck we got this. The explosion
must have blown it off the wall,
and it fell in a drain-ditch full of
water, didn’t burn.”
Inspector Tope felt a quick pre
monition of success. It was such
accidents as this which had be
trayed murderers before, and would
again. He looked at Inspector Heale
wondering whether the other had
the same thought; but Heale’s eyes
were fixed on someone a little dis
tance off, and when Tope swung
that way, he saw the man whom
June had called Uncle Jim ap
proaching them at swift long
strides.
He came near, and he cried:
“Where’s—Miss Leaford?”
Heale said harshly: “Where’ve
you been? I’ve been looking for
you.”
Glovere made an impatient ges
ture. “Is she all right?” he in
sisted.
Tope said gently: “Yes, she’s all
right, Mr. Leaford.”
And at that word Heale swung
toward him, then back to the other
man. “You Mr. Leaford?” he de
manded in a quick astonishment.'
There was a long silence; the oth
er at last lifted his hand helplessly.
“Yes. Yes. When Kitty died, I went
away . . . Came back yesterday.
But I didn’t know about this till
just now.”
“Where were you last night?”
Heale demanded.
“In my cabin down there."
“Didn’t wake up?”
“No. I’d lost sleep lately.”
Heale made a gesture of satisfac
tion. “I guess you’re the man I
want,” he said.
June’s father stared at him with
narrowing eyes. “What are you
talking about?” he demanded.
It was Tope who answered. “We
think Mrs. Leaford was murdered,
think this last night was murder
too,” he said.
And Heale added in a complacent
tone: “So that’s why I want you,
Mr. Leaford. You’re going for a
little ride with me.”
.BAKER COUNTY NEWS
CHAPTER XU
June woke to strange surround
ings; to a room she had never seen
before, a bed she did not know. She
woke, and lay with wide eyes, re
membering; and for a while she
was content to stay abed, putting
her thoughts in order, assorting all
her horrified impressions of the
night before ... At last she heard
someone stop outside her door and
stand still there as though listening;
for a moment she shuddered with
vague terrors, then decided this
must be a friendly step, and called:
“Come in.”
So Miss Moss opened the door;
and June saw kindness in her, and
strength and affection. The older
woman came gently to her bedside;
she said quietly:
“Good morning, Miss Leaford.
Did you sleep well?”
“I must have, I think.” June con
fessed. “What time is it?”
“Past eleven,” Miss Moss told
her gently. “Stay in bed. I’ll bring
you some coffee.”
But June sat up quickly. “Oh, no.
So late!” And she asked: “Where’s
Clint?”
“Sound asleep.”
“Is he all right?”
“Yes; yes, my dear. Perfectly.
Just a few burns and blisters.”
“He was so brave,” June whis
pered proudly; end Miss Moss said
smilingly:
“He’s sleeping like a child. He
took Inspector Tope out there last
night, after you went to bed; but
he came back soon himself, and I
took care of him.”
June nodded. “You’ve always
taken care of him, haven’t you?”
“Since his mother died, yes.—Of
him and of Clara.”
The girl insisted on arising; and
she and Miss Moss had a long hour
together before Clint woke at all,
moving quietly, speaking in half
whispers so that he might not be
disturbed. Once the telephone rang,
and Miss Moss answered it. June
heard her speak in a steady nega
tion to some insistent one, and
guessed the truth before Miss Moss
confessed to her.
“That was your cousin,” the old
er woman explained. “Mr. Taine—
wanting you to come home. He said
he would come fetch you.”
“Rab or Asa?” June asked, al
most fearfully.
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, I don’t want to go,” the
girl declared. “I can’t bear to go
back there/’
“You need not,’’ Miss Moss as
sured her calmly. “You will stay
here as long as you choose, my
dear.” She smiled and lifted the re
ceiver off the hook. “We’ll not even
answer the telephone,” she de
clared. “Besides, it might wake
Clint. He needs sleep.”
“I want to see him,” June ad
mitted, her cheeks bright; Miss
Moss smiled, and on a sudden im
pulse put her arm around the girl.
Later Miss Moss heard a buzzing
in the telephone, and it continued
so persistently that she lifted the
receiver. This was Aunt Evie, in
sisting in her even, pitiless tones
that June come home. But Miss
Moss yielded not an inch; and June,
when she heard who it was, cried:
“I can’t, Miss Moss. Mother’s
dead, and now Grandma. Oh, I
can’t go back to them.”
Her voice was raised; it may have
roused Clint, asleep in Inspector
Tope’s own bed. He came in pa
jamas to the door, his hair rumpled,
his eyes drowsy, still not fully
waked. But when June saw him
there, she ran into his arms, and
he held her close; and Miss Moss
said in a deep and tender mirth:
“She wouldn’t be happy till you
did wake up, Clint. I couldn’t please
her.”
Common Colds May Cause Infections in
Sinuses and Parts of Respiratory Tract
The common cold can cause In
fection in the sinuses, other parts of
the respiratory tract and ears, Sid
ney N. Parkinson, M.D., Oakland,
Calif., says in The Journal of the
American Medical Association.
Nasal congestion during a cold
interferes with circulation about the
openings of the sinuses. This in
creases swelling and congestion
within the sinuses and permits ac
cumulation of mucopus which the
hair-like projections in the respira
tory tract are unable to remove.
This complication is unfavorable to
tissue defense.
“The purpose of local treatment
during acute infection is ventilation
in order to improve drainage,” the
author says. Shrinkage of the nasal
mucous membranes with drugs
opens the air passages. Free drain
age then takes place if in the proc
ess of ventilation the hairlike drain
age mechanism has not been dam
aged. This is why the selection of
a physiologic drug is so important.
Ephedrine in Locke’s solution or its
equivalent constitutes an efficient
harmless agent for shrinkage.
The drug best reaches the mem
branes of the air passages with the
June looked back over her shoul
der and said gratefully: “You were
sweet to me. But—l did want Clint
too."
So June was able to forget for a
while those horrors of last night;
she and Clint and Miss Moss laughed
together over the breakfast-table,
and while they washed dishes after
ward. But early in the afternoon
Inspector Tope came home. The
old man was tired and worn and
haggard, and his clothes were sod
den. Miss Moss seized on him and
hustled him, protesting, away to
change; she would have put him to
bed, but the Inspector balked.
June asked Clint desperately:
“What is it, dear? What has hap
pened? Why is he—that way?” And
suddenly: “Why do you call him
‘lnspector’? Is he a policeman?”
“He used to be,” Clint told her.
“For years.” He thought uncertain
ly to distract her attention; and he
said almost eagerly: “He can tell
you the greatest stories, about the
cases he had, the things he did. I
guess he’s the greatest detective
they ever had around here.”
She stared at him with "^arrowed
eyes. “Detective?” she whispered.
“But why—” And suddenly Clint
saw the blood drain out of her lips
and leave them white as marble;
but her eyes were steady. “Clint,"
she demanded, “does he think—”
But he was saved the necessity of
answering, for Inspector Tope and
Miss Moss came out to them again;
and June turned to the older man.
“You think someone killed my moth
er?” she said swiftly.
Clint protested something, and In
spector Tope stood uncertain; but
June turned to Miss Moss. “Tell
me,” she insisted. “Is it true?”
Miss Moss answered her. “Yes,
June,” she said. “I think it is true.”
Her voice was infinitely kind.
June’s eyes closed; she seemed
to grow tall, she stood so straight
and still. She looked at them all
again, and said slowly:
“You must tell me. Oh, tell ma
what to do.”
Miss Moss and Clint were silent,
full of tenderness; but Inspector
Tope spoke in a deep approval.
“You’re fine, Miss Leaford,” he
said. “This is hard for you, and I
know it, and understand. I would
like to talk to you,” he explained
gravely. “If you can stand talk,
questions.”
Tope began with Mrs. Leaford; he
came at last to the tragedy of the
night before. “Your grandmother
died,” he said. “Mr. Hurder is still
alive. He ought to be in a hospital,
to have every chance; but Mrs.
Taine insists on keeping him there.
Attending him herself—”
He was silent for a moment,
frowning, foreboding in his eyes.
Then he went on:
“Now you’ve already told me
about your mother and the night she
died. You remember, when I came
out with Clint. But Miss Leaford,
I want to ask you about last night—
about everything that happened be
fore you left the house to meet
Clint: who you saw, what you Aid,
what other people did.”
So June, picking her words witn
care, arranging her memories in or
der, began to tell him; and while
she talked, he made an occasional
note, on a pad of paper, till she con
cluded at last:
“And then Clint brought me away,
brought me in here.”
Inspector Tope nodded with a dee)
approval. “That’s fine,” he said;
and he explained: “I’ve been trying
to figure out the times when some
of these things happened. I’ve made
a schedule. Some of this you don’t
know about; but you and Clipt look
at it and see if it’s about right, as
far as you know.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
patient lying on his side with his
head bent downward exactly side
wise, using the shoulder as a ful
crum.
After from three to five minutes
the head is rotated to face down to
permit the nasal contents to escape
from the nostrils. The head-low
posture permits all important struc
tures within the nose to come in
contact with the medication and ob
viates any injury.
Teeth of the Dog
Every dog regardless of size or
breed has the same number of
teeth. Even in the Pekingese and
bulldog with their smashed-in faces,
though the teeth may be crowded,
crossed and crooked, there are al
ways 42 and they are always in tha
same groups and locations. All have
four canine or fangs, two in each
jaw, one in each corner with six in
cisors or cutting teeth between
them, 18 premolars and eight mo
lars or grinders. The canine teeth
are the dog’s weapons with which
he slashes his opponents and they
also help the incisors tear the car
casses of his kill or large rhunk*
of meat.
An Amateur Decorator
Uses a Curved Needle
By RUTH WYETH SPEARS '
“FA EAR MRS. SPEARS: Some
time ago in an article you
suggested using a curved needle,
such as upholsterers use, for sew
ing heavy cord trimming in place.
I found that these needles are also
used in making candle wicking
bedspreads and are on sale in
most notion and fancy work de
partments. Mine has been very
useful to me; especially when re
upholstering an old chair. This
is just one of the many useful
hints I have found in your articles
■KyAJ
\rmi mW b
and books. Thank you so much
for all of them.—G. H.”
Here is the picture of the curved
needle used to sew bright con
trasting cord to an upholstered
couch. It is a useful tool when
you are sewing to fabric that is
stretched tightly. Everyone who
finds pleasure in making a home
attractive needs to know these lit
tle tricks that give work a profes
sional touch.
Original ideas with complete di
rections for slipcovers; draperies
and other furnishings are in the
new Sewing Book No. 3. Every
homemaker should have a copy;
as well as everyone who likes to
make gifts, and items for bazaars.
The price is only 10 cents post
paid. Send coin with name ant
address to Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Des
plaines St., Chicago, 111.
To Correct Constipation
Don’t Get It!
Why let yourself In for all the
discomfort of constipatlon-and
then have to take an emergency
medicine—ls you can avoid both
by getting at the cause of the
trouble?
If your difficulty, like that of
millions, is due to lack of “bulk”
In the diet, the “better way” Is to
eat Kellogg’s All-Bran. Thia
crunchy toasted cereal-a natu
ral food, not a medicine—has just
the "bulk” you need. If you eat it
every day, it will help you not only
to get regular but to keep regu
lar, month after month, by the
pleasantest means you ever knew!
Eat All-Bran dally, drink plenty
of water, and "Join the Regulars."
Made by Kellogg’s in Battle
Creek. Sold by every grocer.
Education but Beginning
Education begins the gentle
man; but reading, good company,'
and reflection must finish him.—
Locke.
. — ..u
Stainless, snow-white
I■uVeWU Penetro helps relax
IMWWyMW muscular tightness—)
eases soreness. Try it,
PENETRO
Greatest Loss
He who loses wealth loses much,
he who loses a friend loses more,
but he that loses his courage loses
all.
IT MUST BE GOODI
Any medicine that has been used
for generation after generation
MUST be good. That’s the record
behind Wintersmith’s — over 70
years of continuous demand. Mil
lions of people have preferred it—
millions noth in America and in
21 foreign countries. TRY Winter
smith’s as a General Tonic, and for
Malaria. Then judge for yourself.
WINTERSMITH'S
TONIC
Short-Lived
The devil’s friendship reaches
only to the prison door.
DIXIE FILM SERVICE ||
P- O. Bod 4385-A Atlanta, Co. ||
You find them announced in
the columns of this paper by
merchants of our community
who do not feel they must keep
the quality of their merchan
dise or their prices under cover.
It is safe to buy of the mer
chant who ADVERTISES.