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Rich Crocheted Cloth
Can Be Made in Jiffy
Bl
Pattern 2040.
Two strands of string form this
lovely 60-inch cloth of easy cro
chet. Make a 32-inch doily of the
center part only. Pattern 2040
contains instructions for making
doth in varied sizes; illustrations
of it and of stitches; materials
required; photograph of cloth.
Send 15 cents in coins for this
pattern to The Sewing Circle,
Needlecraft Dept., 82 Eighth Ave.,
New York.
Please write your name, ad
dress and pattern number plainly.
Uncle
Nos From a Dream
Those who awake to find them
selves famous usually have done
a lot of hard work beforehand.
Hope doesn’t go any great dis
tance unless you get behind it and
push hard.
Little money supplies needs;
much money creates many de
sires.
Dullest Act Is Longest
It is a universal fact that the
cheaper the work, the more of it
is exacted.
Pull the Trigger on
Constipation, and
Pepsin-ize Acid Stomach Too
When constipation brings on acid indi
gestion, bloating, dizzy spells, gas, coated
tongue, sour taste, and bad breath, your
utomach is probably loaded up with cer
tain undigested food and your bowels don’t
■aove. So you need both Pepsin to help
break up fast that rich undigested food in
your stomach, and Laxative Senna to pull
the trigger on those lazy bowels. So be
•ure your laxative also contains Pepsin.
Take Dr. Caldwell’s Laxative, because its
Syrup Pepsin helps you gain that won
derful stomach-relief, while the Laxative
Senna moves your bowels. Tests prove the
power of Pepsin to dissolve those lumps of
■■digested protein food which may linger
in your stomach, to cause belching, gastric
acidity and nausea. This is how pepsin
izing your stomach helps relieve it of such
distress. At the same time this medicine
wakes up lazy nerves and muscles in your
tends to relieve your constipation. So see
bow much better you feel by taking the
laxative that also puts Pepsin to work on
that stomach discomfort, too. Even fin
icky children love to taste this pleasant
tenfly laxative. Buy Dr. Caldwell’s Lax
ative — Senna with Syrup Pepsin at your
druggist today!
notes J
kwh
UM
On Receiving End
That man may last, but never
Kves, who much receives, but
■othing gives.—Thomas Gibbons.
bloodshot eyes
are relieved in one day by
Leonardi’s Golden Eye Lotion.
No other eye remedy in the
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IMrv Large Size with Dropper— 50 rente
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We make our fortunes, and we
call them fate.—Beaconsfield.
Good Merchandise
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THREE SHUTTERED HOUSES
— - By BEN AMES WILLIAMS
Copyright—WNU SERVICI
CHAPTER Xlll—Continued
—l4—
But it must have been a quarter
>f an hour after Clint heard the
garage-door roll back before he saw
a light in the garage. Then he
heard a starter grind, and a car
backed out of the garage, its head
lights swinging as it turned.
Clint stood frozen in attention.
The car followed the drive around
the house on this side, the lights for
an instant shining almost directly
toward where Clint stood. Then it
went on toward the road.
So Asa was gone; Clint felt a faint
relief. He wondered what had be
come of Inspector Tope, and he
hissed a signal, but had no reply.
Then he heard the car returning!
He saw no lights; but he did see,
dimly, a dark moving bulk as the
car rounded the corner of the house
yonder. It moved fast, dangerous
ly so .. .
He heard a great crash, a shat
tering of glass, a tinny crumpling
of metal—a great crash, then si
lence.
And then Tope’s voice, yonder, in
Imperious summons: “Clint! Quick!
Here!”
And a police whistle, shrill and
long.
CHAPTER XIV
After that crashing impact and
Tope’S cry, and the shrill blast of
his whistle, silence descended. Clint
took one bound toward where he
guessed Tope to be; then he
checked, and turned. June from the
Window above him spoke softly:
“Clint, you all right?”
“You’d better come,” he said
hoarsely. It was a matter of sec
onds only, until she stood beside
him. Her fingers caught his.
“Here, you take this!” she bade
him, and pressed Tope’s old revolv
er into his hand.
He saw Tope kneeling beside a
man who lay here on the ground.
The flashlight illumined his counte
nance. Rab Taine! His cheek was
smeared. Blood from a cut on his
head had flowed out over his ear
and trickled down his brow and
face. He lay limp and lifeless.
“Dead?” Clint asked hoarsely.
Tope shook his head. His hand
was on Rab’s wrist, feeling for the
faint pulse that fluttered there. “Not
dead yet,” he said.
June pressed close to Clint, and
she said miserably:
“It’s Asa. Oh, what is it, Clint?
What happened?”
Clint shook his head, staring at
Asa Taine, who sat here under the
jammed wheel of the car. Asa was
unconscious; and there was some
thing mysteriously affrighting in his
posture. His hands hung down limp
ly by his sides; and the bent steer
ing-column pressed the wheel itself
against his body, so that he seemed
to bulge in the middle. His head
was in a grotesque and unnatural
position. Cricked to one side, it
rested against the frame of the
door. His head was erect, even
tilted backward, but his chin
seemed to be pressed down on his
chest. It was as though he were
frozen in the very act of a hic
cough.
Tope said reflectively, as though
thinking aloud: “I guess he piled
into that tree faster than he meant
to. He must have seen me, and
that would surprise him. I guess
he lost his head, stepped on it. He
didn’t mean to hit so hard.”
Rand and another policeman in
uniform came panting through the
rain. “What happened?” Rand
gasped.
Without explanation, Tope said
crisply: “One of you watch the oth
er house. Rand, you go call Inspec
tor Heale. If he’s not too sick to
move, get him up here.”
Since they first discovered Asa
here. Inspector Tope had not left
the man’s side, had kept him fixed
in the flashlight’s beam. Now they
saw that his lips began to stir and
mumble. Then he blinked. The
light was in his eyes.
June cried softly: "We’ll get you
out in a minute, Asa.”
Mrs. Taine came running out of
the kitchen door, brushing past
Rand as he entered, drawing some
wrap around her. She reached the
side of the car. “Asa!” she cried,
and caught at his shoulder, tugging
at him.
“Oh,” he whispered. It was like
a whistle of pain. “My head. Neck.
Don’t touch—”
Mrs. Taine whirled on the Inspec
tor. “Quick,” she commanded.
“Get him out of there.” And she
looked all about. “Where is Rab?”
she cried.
Asa muttered through stiff lips; his
lips were blue.
“Sorry, Mother,” he said, and
tried to smile. “He dodged in front
of me. I ran right into him. I
couldn’t help it.”
His lips closed and opened again.
“I couldn’t help it,” he repeated.
“We both dodged the same way.”
“I was going to town,” Asa mur
mured. “But my headlights went
out as soon as I hit the road.
I came back to get a new fuse—”
His words were spaced widely;
there were long pauses between
them.
Mrs. Taine did not understand.
“What does he mean?” she protest
ed. “Where is Rab?”
Tope said gently: "Rab’s hurt too,
ma’am. We’ll need the Doctor bad.
Quick, you call him up!”
Understanding, she obeyed him,
she hurried away, and after a mo
ment they heard her voice, within
doors, demanding that Rand yield
to her the telephone.
.Asa asked some hoarse question,
indistinguishable. “My neck hurts,”
he complained. “Rab? He’s dead?
I tried to miss him.”
And Tope answered him, in slow
stern tones. “You didn’t hit Rab,
Asa,” he said. “I pulled him away
in time. I pulled him away from
“It’s Asa. Oh, what is it, Clint?
What happened?”
the tree, where you’d propped him
up!”
His voice had in it the inexorable
ring of doom.
“He’s alive?" Asa asked slowly,
carefully, his mouth twisted.
“He’ll come around,” said Tope.
“He’ll be all right by and by.”
Without any movement of his
head, Asa’s eyes swung to seek out
their countenances. He peered in
the darkness, and his lips writhed
so that his teeth were hideously
bare. Then he moved. It was as
though he leaped, as though he
would have sprung to action. His
lips set hard; his shoulder rose; his
whole body contorted; one hand
darted down. ... It whipped up,
and a gun showed in the flashlight’s
gleam.
Inspector Tope, leaning into the
car, sought to seize the gun.
But before he could touch Asa,
could grasp the weapon, the need
for action passed. When the hurt
man thus leaned sharply forward,
his head was tardy in following his
movement. It seemed to hang back,
and then to be jerked aside as
though by an invisible hand; and
this was a strange, unnatural thing
to see. Asa’s head turned at a gro
tesque angle, as though it had
slipped; and instantly Asa himself
was smaller, like a pricked balloon.
And quite still.
Clint whispered: “For God’s sake,
Inspector! Is he dead?”
Tope nodded slowly. "Yes, dead,”
he said, in a low tone.
CHAPTER XV
For a moment more these three
stood silently by the car with a dead
man at the wheel. Then Rand re
turned.
“Heale’s coming,” he reported.
“Right away.”
Tope nodded. "This man in the
car is dead,” he said. “Stay by him.
Don’t touch anything.”
And he turned back to where Rab
lay on the ground. Then Mrs. Taine
came running from the house. “Doc
tor Cablet will be here at once,”
she gasped; and she cried:
“Where’s Asa? What have you done
with him?”
June put her arms about the old
er woman, held her away. “Rab
needs you now,” she urged. “Rab,
Aunt Evie.”
“Asa?” the older woman demand
ed.
“He’s dead,” June told her, mer
cifully frank.
“Who killed him?” There was a
dreadful challenge in the slow, soft
tones. “He was alive a moment
ago. Talking to me. Who killed
my son?”
“He—just died,” June told her.
“Please. We must take care of
Rab now.”
But Mrs. Taine swung toward the
car. Tope with his flashlight bent
on the hurt man on the ground,
heard the mother brooding over
Asa, calling his name, pleading with
him—then June compelling her to
turn this way. There was strength
in the girl’s tones; she was able to
command Aunt Evie at last, to fetch
her here where Tope and Clint knelt
beside the unconscious man.
“We’ll carry Rab to the house,”
BAKER COUNTY NEWS
said the Inspector. "Out of the rain
Clint, you take his legs."
They bore him into the house,
where Tope knelt beside him, and
with careful fingers appraised his
hurts. Mrs. Taine stood still as ice,
watching, and June held her fast.
Tope looked up at last. “Just a
bump on the head, ma’am,” he told
Mrs. Taine. “I can’t feel that the
skull’s broken.”
Mrs. Taine begamsuddenly to cry;
and this was a strange thing to see
in that woman of iron.
June said: “I’ll make her lie
down.” She led Mrs. Taine, submis
sive, away.
When they were gone, Clint knelt
by the Inspector’s side, asked the
question he had not dared ask be
fore. He nodded toward the door,
toward Asa outside in the rain.
“You think he—did it?” he whis
pered.
Tope assented gravely.
“But I liked him,” Clint protest
ed. “He was the best of them all!”
The doorbell rang; Clint went
through the dark hall; lighted the
gas, opened the door. Doctor Ca
bler.
Clint came back with the physi
cian on his heels; and Doctor Ca
blet, with no more than a nod to
ward the Inspector, knelt beside the
man on the floor.
Presently he finished, tipped back
on his heels. “Concussion,” he said.
“I shall make a spinal puncture, try
to relieve the pressure on his brain.
Otherwise the young man may die
without recovering consciousness.”
And he directed: “Help me. Push
those two tables together. Put wa
ter on to boil. Where’s Mrs. Taine?”
“In the front room,” said Tope.
“With June.” And he explained:
“Asa’s dead, in the car, outside.
He ran into that pine tree. Neck
broken, I believe. Alive at first.
Talked, then he tried to move, his
head twisted to one side, and that
was the end of him.”
“Well, such things have hap
pened,” the Doctor confessed, after
a moment. “Some shock dislocates
the vertebrae without dislodging
them. Then a movement, an at
tempt to turn the head, and the big
neck muscles drag one vertebra
across the other like a pair of
shears. Snip the cord.”
Doctor Cablet and Mrs. Taine,
Clint and June could do all that was
needful here. Tope watched them
for a moment; then he went to the
telephone, called Miss Moss and
told her guardedly that Rab was
hurt and Asa dead.
She whispered: "Asa dead?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Is his wife there?” Miss Moss
asked. "Lissa?” And at Tope’s neg
ative: “She would want to be. She
has a right to be. I’m coming out.
I’ll bring her.”
He was full of a deep comfort to
know that she would come. “All
right,” he assented. “Do.”
He looked at his watch and re
turned to the veranda. As he did
so, Inspector Heale came hurriedly
across the lawn from the road.
Heale exclaimed: “Tope, what’s
happened here?”
Tope said slowly: "Rab’s hurt
got a bad crack on the head. Doc
tor Cabler’s working on him.” He
added: “And Asa’s out in the car
with a broken neck.”
“Broken neck?” Heale echoed.
His voice was husky. “Is he dead?”
“Just as dead as if he’d been
hanged,” Tope assented. He said
it with something like contentment
in his tones, as though he perceived
a seemliness and order in the world:
“They don’t hang in this State any
more; but I always said it was the
thing—for murderers, I mean.”
Heale ejaculated: "Murderers?”
And Tope told him briefly: “Yes.
Night of the Big Wind Dated Lives of Irish
Many Americans whose grand
parents were born in Ireland have
heard these elders speak of the
night of the big wind. As some of
the ancestors referred to it as the
date of their birth the youngsters
may have regarded it as a bit of
frivolous avoidance of fact. But
there was such a night, recalls the
New York Sun.
It began about 11 o’clock on the
night of January 6, 1839, and con
tinued until after daylight the next
morning. Limerick and the Dublin
neighborhood suffered heavily. Two
hundred houses were blown down
and as many more were burned.
Twenty persons were killed in these
catastrophes and 100 were drowned.
The coasts of Ireland and western
England were lined with wrecks.
As Ireland did not keep vital sta
tistics until 1860, the night of the
big wind was used as the base of
many claims made under the old
age pension act 30 years ago. The
Irish Digest reprints some para
graphs from “Things Past Re
dress,” a book by Augustine Birrell,
who went to Ireland as chief secre
tary in 1907:
"It was a wonderful wind! Dick
ens alone could have done it justice.
It ought to have blown itself out
in 1839, but there it still was, sweep
ing pension officers and local gov-
He and Rab had an argument to
night, in the garage. He hit Rab
with a monkey-wrench, propped
him against that pine tree by the
corner of the drive, got out his car.
He drove to the road and turned
around and came back again. He
meant to run into Rab, finish him.
“But I was there. Before Asa got
back, I’d dragged Rab away from
the tree. Asa saw me. Seeing me
must have startled him so that he
stepped on the gas. Anyway, he
rammed into the tree so hard it
snapped his own neck.”
Heale stood in an incredulous
amazement, and Tope concluded:
“Didn’t kill him right off. He came
to. He thought he’d hit Rab, and
he told us it was an accident, that
Rab dodged in front of the car.
When I told him he hadn’t hit Rab,
that Rab was alive, he went for his
gun.
“But when he moved, his neck
snapped. Finished him!”
, Heale was almost wordless.
"Gun?” he repeated.
“Here it is,” said Tope, and de
livered Asa’s weapon to the other
man.
Then Doctor Cablet came out to
them. “Gentlemen,” he said, satis
faction in his tones, "Rab is show
ing signs of returning conscious
ness.”
“He’ll live?” Tope asked.
“Oh, that, certainly,” the physi
cian confidently agreed. “And I
think by morning he may be able to
talk to you.”
He went back into the house; and
Heale roused from his paralysis of
surprise. “You think Asa did the
rest of it?” he asked.
“I’ve known that, since this morn
ing," Tope replied.
“Why didn’t you tip me?”
‘‘Knowing isn’t proving,” Tope re
minded him; and Heale ruefully as
sented.
“I guess I’ll call Derrie,” he de
cided at last. “Have him up here
in the morning!” And he confessed
a little grudgingly: “You’ve made
a double-barreled fool out of him,
Inspector.”
CHAPTER XVI
The Inspector’s call had come to
Miss Moss like an expected sum
mons. Before she dressed, she tele
phoned for a taxicab; and when she
came out it was at the door.
“The Providence road,” she di
rected. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”
When she rang the doorbell of
the house behind the garage, it
was far into the small hours; the
rain still sheeted down.
A window opened above her head,
and Thayer called a question.
“I must speak to Miss Thayer,”
Miss Moss explained.
The garage man himself came to
the door with his daughter, sleepily
protesting and- bewildered. Miss
Moss hesitated, unwilling to betray
to him the girl’s secret unless she
must. Yet there appeared no other
way. “Miss Thayer,” she said. “I
have bad news for you. Young Mr.
Taine—”
She saw Lissa white in the dim
lit hall.
“He is — hurt,” Miss Moss ex
plained gently.
“I’ll come,” said the girl quickly.
Thayer put a swift protecting arm
around his daughter, so that Miss
Moss understood he had known the
truth. “If Lissa’s going, so am
I,” Thayer suggested. “Send your
cab away. I’ll take my car.”
Miss Moss assented. And pres
ently they started up the hill, Thay
er driving. In the seat behind, Miss
Moss held the girl close.
“There, there, my dear,” she
whispered comfortingly.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
ernment officials off their feet in
1908. Question any old man as to
his claim, and you learned that his
age had gone astray on him, but he
was a fine, hardy lad on the night
of the big wind!”
As news distribution, like the col
lection of vital statistics, was in its
infancy in 1839, the readers of the
Sun did not learn of the calamitous
happenings in Ireland until the ar
rival of the packet ship Cambridge
on February 13, and that news was
limited to what had happened near
Liverpool, whence the Cambridge
sailed. Three days later the Great
Western reached New York with
further details, but these were not
as lively as the announcement of
Victoria’s engagement to Albert,
which also arrived on the Great
Western.
Climbing Kangaroos
Members of the American Muse
um of Natural History Expedition
to Dutch New Guinea have discov
ered 11 specimens of tree-climbing
kangaroos. They are five to six
feet over-all length and come from
the slopes of the Cyclop mountains,
just behind Hollandia. These rars
kangaroos climb like the natives
reaching up with their front paws,
then hoisting themselves as the rear
paws follow.
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HOUSEHOLD
QUESTIONS
Tempting Dish.— Candied sweet
potatoes have a distinctive flavor
if they are sweetened with honey.
Sprinkle a few cashew or Brazil
nut fragments over the tops just
before serving.
• 0 0
Creaming Butter and Sugar.—
Butter and sugar will cream more
quickly if a few drops of warm
water are sprinkled over them.
* * •
Drying Woolens.— To dry the
children’s woolen articles quickly,
put them on a clean cloth and put
the electric fan near them. Turn
the garments frequently.
• so
Orange and Pumpkin.—Orange
blends well with pumpkin. Add a
little orange juice or grated or
ange rind to your next pumpkin
pie filling. A fourth of a teaspoon
ful is enough.
* * *
Never Scrape Graniteware.—To
clean graniteware which has been
scorched, add one-half cup strong
washing solution and two cups of
water to the pan. Cover and heat
slowly and cook for 30 minutes.
• • *
When Egg Is Cracked.—Before
boiling a cracked egg rub the shell
with lemon juice. The egg albu
men is quickly coagulated by the
acid.
Keep your body free of accumulated
waste, take Dr. Pierre’s Pleasant Pel
lets. 60 Pellets 30 cents.—Adv.
Cowards Die Often
Cowards die many times before
their death; the valiant taste
death but once.—Shakespeare.
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Liberty Grows Fast
Liberty, when it begins to take
root, is a plant of rapid growth.—
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He that would the daughter win,'
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We enter the world alone, we
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