Bema Wold,
Bellefonte, Pa., February 16, 1917.
“What are you going to do this eve-
ning? Any lectures?”
“Tectures are over for the summer.
I shall go to prayers, and after that
to the roof for air.”
“Can't you take a little ride tonight
and cool off? I'll have the car wherever
vou say. A ride and some supper—
how does it sound? You could get
away at seven—"
“Miss Gregg is coming!”
With an impassive face, the girl
turned away. The workers of the op- i
erating room surged between them. |
i. Le Moyne stood for a moment 11
front of the closed door, for the mer:
sound of her moving, beyond it. Thing:
had gone very far with the Pages
roomer that day in the country; no
so far as they were to go, but fa)
enough to let him see on the brink o
what misery he stood.
He could not go away. He had prom
ised her to stay: he was needed. Hi
thought he could have endured seein
her marry Joe, had she cared for ths
boy. That way, at least, lay safety fo’
her. The boy had fidelity and devotion
written large over him. But this nev
Carlotta Harrison came out alone.
Although the tapping of her heels was
dulled by the grass, although she had
exchanged her cap for the black hat,
Sidney knew her at once. A sort of
thrill ran over her. It was the pretty
nurse from Doctor Wilson’s office. Was
it possible—but of course not! The
book of rules stated explicitly that such
things were forbidden.
“Don’t turn around,” she said swift
ly. “It is the Miss Harrison I told you
about. She is looking at us.”
Carlotta’s eyes were blinded for 8
moment by the glare of the house
EVERYTHIN
SE
HAS NOT GONE UP
IN PRICE
We are now making our MINCE MEAT a
usual high standard; nothing cut out or cu
former price of 15 Cents Per Pound.
this time last seascn.
MINCE MEAT.
SWEET POTATOES.
All the goods we advertise here are selling at prices prevailing
nd keeping it fully up to our
t short and are selling it at our
A,
SEA
|
ras clev vith the il f |
Bl ha ve ee Finest Selected SWEET POTATOES at 40 Cents Per Peck.
Fine Celery, Oranges, Grape Fruit, Apricots, Peaches, Prunes—All spices
(Except Pepper). Breakfast Foods, Extracts, Baking Powders, Soda, Corn-
starch. The whole line of Soaps and Washing Powders, Starches, Blueing
lights. Then she sat up, her eyes on
Le Moyne's grave profile turned to
ward the valley. Lucky for her that
i complication—her romantic interest i1
| Wilson, the surgeon’s reciprocal inter
| est in her, with what he knew of the
——_——
Mary Roberts Rinehart
as
- - = a=
iasaanaaaas ass lsbddddddddddbdd
(Copyright, by mcclure Publications, Inc.)
(Continued from last week.)
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER I—At her home in the Street
Sidney Page agrees to marry Joe Drum-
mond ‘‘after years and years” and talks
to K. Le Moyne, the new roomer,
CHAPTER II—Sidney’s aunt Harriet
who has been dressmaking with Sidney's
mother, launches an independent modiste s
parlor. Sidney gets Dr. Ed Wilson's in-
fluence with his brother, Doctor Max, the
successful young surgeon, to piace her ir
the hospital as a probationer nurse.
CHAPTER III—-K. becomes acquaintec
in the Street. Sidney asks him to stay
on as a roomer and explains her plans fol
financing her home while she is in the
school.
CHAPTER IV—Doctor Max gets Sidney
into the hospital school.
CHAPTER V—Sidney and
afternoon in the country.
into the river.
CHAPTER VI—Max asks Carlotta Har
rison, a probationer, to take a motor ride
with him. Joe finds Sidney and K. al
the country hotel, where Sidney is drying
her clothes, and is insanely jealous.
K. spend ar
Sidney falls
CHAPTER VL
Operations were over for the after:
aoon. The last case had been wheeled
out of the elevator. The pit of the op-
erating room was in disorder—towels
everywhere, tables of instruments,
steaming sterilizers. Orderlies were
Zoing about, carrying out linens, empty-
ing pans. At a table two nurses were
cleaning instruments and putting them
away in their glass cases. Irrigators
were being emptied, sponges recounted
and checked off on written lists,
In the midst of the confusion, Wilson
stood giving last orders to the interne
at his elbow. As he talked he scoured
his hands and arms with a ‘small
brush ; bits of lather flew off on to the
tiled floor. His speech was incisive,
vigorous. At the hospital they said his
nerves were iron; there was no let-
down after the day's work. The in-
ternes worshiped and feared him. He
was just, but without mercy. To be
able to work like that, so certainly.
with so sure a touch, and to look like
a Greek god! Wilson's only rival, 8
gynecologist named O'Hara, got re
sults, too; but he sweated and swore
through his operations, was not toc
careful as to asepsis, and looked like &
Zoriila.
The day had been a hard one. The
operating-room nurses were fagged
Two or three probationers had beer
sent to help clean up, and a Senior
aurse. Wilson’s eyes caught the nurse's
ayes as she passed him.
“Here, too, Miss Harrison!” he said
zayly. “Have they set you on my trail?’
With the eyes of the room on her.
che girl answered primly:
“I'm to be in your office in the morn:
ings, Doctor Wilson, and anywhere 1]
am needed in the afternoons.”
“And your vacation?”
“I shall. take it when Miss Simpson
comes back.”
Although he went on at once with
his conversation with the interne, he
still heard the click of her heels about
the room. He had not lost the fact that
she had flushed when he spoke to her.
The mischief that was latent in him
came to the surface. When he had
rinsed his hands, he followed her, car:
Trying the towel to where she stood
talking to the superintendent of the
training school.
“Thanks very much, Miss Gregg,” he
said. “Everything went off nicely.”
He was in a magnanimous mood. He
smiled at Miss Gregg, who was elderly
and gray, but visibly his creature.
“The sponge list, doctor.”
He glanced over it, noting accurate
iy sponges prepared, used, turned in
But he missed no gesture of the girl
who stood beside Miss Gregg.
“All right.” He returned the list
“Phat was a mighty pretty probationer
{ brought you yesterday.”
Two small frowning lines appeared
between Miss Harrison’s dark brows,
He caught them, caught her somber
eyes too, and was amused and rather
stimulated.
“She is very young.”
“Prefer ’em young,” said Doctor
Max. “Willing to learn at that age.
You'll have to watch her, though. You'll
have all the internes buzzing around,
neglecting business.”
Miss Gregg rather fluttered. She
was divided between her disapproval
of internes at all times and of young
probationers generally, and her alle-
giance to the brilliant surgeon whose
word was rapidly becoming law in the
hospital. When an emergency of the
cleaning-up called her away, doubt
still in her eyes, Wilson was left alone
with Miss Harrison.
“pired?” He adopted the gentle, al-
most tender tone that made most wom-
en his slaves.
“A little. It is warm.”
| the homage of success.
‘Cant You Take a Little Ride To-|
night?”
the pursuing male. Eyes of all on him, !
he turned at the door of the wardrobe
room and spoke to her over the heads
f a dozen nurses.
“That patient's address that 1 had
forgotten, Miss Harrison, is the cor-
rer of the Park and Ellington avenue.”
“Thank you.”
She played the game well, was quite
»alm. He admired her coolness. Cer-
(ainly she was pretty, and certainly,
too, she was interested in him. He
went whistling into the wardrobe
~oom. As he turned he caught the in- |
-erne’s eye, and there passed between
‘hem a glance of complete comprehen- |
sion. The interne grinned.
The room was not empty. His broth- |
\r was there, listening to the comments '
;f O'Hara, his friendly rival. ;
“Good work, boy!” said O'Hara, and |
slapped a hairy hand on his shoulder. |
“That last case was a wonder. I'm |
proud of you, and your brother here
is indecently exalted. It was the Ed- |
wardes method, wasn’t it? I saw it.
done at his clinic in New York.”
“Glad you liked it. Yes. Edwardes
was a pal of mine in Berlin. A great |
surgeon, too, poor old chap!” i
“There aren’t three men in the coun-
try with the nerve and the hand for it.”
O'Hara went out, glowing with his
own magnanimity. Doctor Ed stood by
and waited while his brother got into |
his clothes. He was rather silent, |
There were many times when he |
wished that their mother could have
lived to see how he had carried out
his promise to “make a man of Max.”
Sometimes he wondered what she
would think of his own untidy methods
;ompared with Max's extravagant or-
jer—of the bag, for instance, with the
log’s collar in it, and other things. On
hese occasions he always determined
:0 clear out the bag.
“I guess I'll be getting along,” he
said. “Will you be home for dinner?”
“I think pot. I'll—I’'m going to run
out of town, and eat where it's cool.”
The Street was notoriously hot in
sumer.
“There's a roast of beef. It’s a pity
to cook a roast for one.”
Wasteful, too, this cooking of food
for two and only one to eat it. A roast
of beef meant a visit, in Doctor Ed's
modest-paying clientele. He still paid
the expenses of the house on the Street.
“Sorry, old man; I've made another
arrangement.”
They left the hospital together.
Everywhere the younger man received
The elevator
man bowed and flung the doors open,
with a smile; the pharmacy clerk, the
loorkeeper, even the convalescent pa-
sient who was polishing the great brass
loorplate, tendered their tribute. Doc-
tor Ed looked neither to right nor left.
* * * * * * *
Sidney, after her involuntary bath in
the river, had gone into temporary
aclipse at the White Springs hotel. In
the oven of the kitchen stove sat her
two small white shoes, stuffed with pa-
ser so that they might dry in shape.
Back in a detached laundry, a sympa-
thetic maid was ironing various soft
white garments, and singing as she
worked.
Sidney sat in a rocking chair in a
aot bedroom. She was carefully
swathed in a sheet from neck to toes,
axcept for her arms, and she was being
18 philosophic as possible.
Someone tapped lightly at the door.
“It's Le Moyne. Are you all right?”
“Perfectly. How stupid it must be
for you!”
“I'm doing very well. The maid will
soon be ready. What shall I order for
supper?”
“Anything. I'm starving.”
“I think your shoes have shrunk.” |
“Flatterer!” She laughed. “Go away
ind order supper. And I can see fresh
i
' man—made him quail.
| year’s torment!
| he was startled out of his reverie. Jot
. him. his blue eyes recklessly alight.
! lor.
| by the elbow and led him past the
door to the empty porch.
, your voice down, ll listen to wha
| you have to say.”
| Moyne anything but his steady glance
| Joe jerked his arm free and clenchec
! for?
. explanation, but I am willing to give
| you one. I brought her out here for ¢
| trolley ride and a picnic luncheon.”
| having been all beer and skittles tc
and was marvelously patient with him
, ly truthful.
-gaged.”
about you? You may be all right, hu!
ettuce. Shall we have a salad?”
.
From the top of the narrow stair
case to the foot, and he had lived ¢
At the foot, however
Drummond stood there waiting fo!
“You—you dog!” said Joe.
There were people in the hotel par |
Le Moyne took the frenzied bo}
“Now,” he said, “if you will keej
“You know what I've got to say.”
This failing to draw from K. Le
his fist.
“What did you bring her out here
“I do not know that I owe you anj
He was sorry for the boy. Life no!
him, he knew that Joe was suffering
“Where is she now?”
“She had the misfortune to fall ir
the river. She is upstairs.” And, see
ing the light of unbelief in Joe's eyes
“If you care to make a tour of investi
gation, you will find that I am entire
In the laundry a maid—"
“She is engaged to me’—doggedly
“Everybody in the neighborhood knows
it, and yet you bring her out Lere for @
picnic! It's—it’s damned rotten treat:
ment.”
His fist had unclenched. Before K
Le Moyne’s eyes his own-fell. He fell
suddenly young and futile; his jus
rage turned to blustering in his ears.
“1 don't know where you came
from,” he said, “but around here de
cent men cut out when a girl's en
“I see!” Tok
“What's more,
ino ey
what do we know
how do I know it? You get her intc
trouble and I'll kill you!”
It took courage, that speech, with K
Le Moyne towering five inches above
him and growing a little white about
the lips.
“Are you going to say all these things
to Sidney?”
“I am. And I am going to find oul
why you were upstairs just now.”
Perhaps never in his twenty-twc
years had young Drummond been sc
near a thrashing. Fury that he was
ashamed of shook Le Moyne. For
very fear of himself, he thrust his
hands in the pockets of his Norfolk
coat.
“Very well,” he said. “You go to her
with just one of these ugly insinua:
tions, and I'll take mighty good care
that you are sorry for it. If you are
going to behave like a bad child, yor
deserve a licking, and I'll give it tc
you.”
Ar. overflow from the parlor poured
out on tke porch. Le Moyne had gol
himself in hand somewhat. He was
still angry, but the look in Joe's eye
startled him. He put a hand on the
boy’s shoulder.
“You're wrong, old man,” he said
“You're insulting the girl you care for
by the things you are thinking. And,
if it’s any comfort to you, I have no
intention of interfering in any way.
You can count me out. It's between
you and ker.”
Joe picked his straw hat from a
chair and stood turning it in his Lands.
“Even if you don’t care for her, how
do I know she isn’t crazy about you?
“My word of honor, she isn't.”
“She sends you notes to McKees'.”
“Just to clear tke air, I'll show it tc
you. It’s ro breach of confidence. It’s
about the hospital.”
Into the breast pocket of his coat he
dived and brought up a wallet. The
wallet had had a came on it in gilt let
ters that had been carefully scraped
off. But Joe did not wait to see the
note.
“Oh, darn the hospital!” he said—
and went swiftly down the steps and
into the gathering twilight of the June
night.
CHAPTER VIL,
Sidney and K. Le Moyne were din:
ing together at the White Springs ho
tel. The ncvelty of the experience hac
made her eyes shine like stars. She
saw only the magnolia tree shaped like
a heart, the terrace edged with low
shrubbery, and beyond the faint gleam
that was the river. The unshaded glare
of the lights behind her in the house
was eclipsed by the crescent edge of
the rising moon. Dinner was over. Sid-
ney was experiencing the rare treat
of after-dinner coffee.
Le Moyne, grave and contained, sat
across from her. To give so much
pleasure, and so easily! How young
she was, and radiant! No wonder the
boy was mad about her. She fairly
held out her arms to life.
Ah, that was too bad! Another
table was being brought ; they were not
to be alone. But what roused in him
violent resentment only appealed to
Sidney's curiosity.
Wilson had stopped in the bar, that
Sidney’s instinctive good manners for
bade her staring, that only the edge of
the summer moon shone through the
trees. She went white and clutched
Oo ~
Rawr te tl
She Went White and Clutched the
Edge of the Table.
the edge of the table, with her eyes
closed. That gave her quick brain a
chance. It was madness, June mad-
ness. She was always seeing him, even
in her dreams. This man was older,
much older. She looked again.
She had not been mistaken. Here,
and after all these months! K. Le
Moyne, quite unconscious of her pres-
ence, looked down into the valley.
Wilson appeared on the wooden
porch above the terrace, and stood, his
eyes searching the half-light for her,
If he came down to her, the man at the
next table might turn, would see her—
She rose and went swiftly back to
ward the hotel. All the gayety was
gone out of the evening for her, but
she forced a lightness she did not feel:
“Jt is so dark and depressing out
there—it makes me sad.”
“Surely you do not want to dine in
the house?”
“Do you mind?”
“Your wish is my law—tonight,” he
said softly.
(Continued next week.)
Curiosities of the Dead Letter Office.
In connection with the work of the
Postoffice Department one of the most
interesting of its bureaus is that of
the division of dead letters, to which
all unclaimed mail is eventually
sent, says the Washington “Star.”
According to the very latest figures
the receipts of letters and parcels in
this division for the last fiscal year
were 10,839,890, which is a small net
increase over the preceding year, ac-
cording to officials of that division.
Included in this number were 395,161
undeliverable parcels received at the
post offices throughout the country
and at the headquarters of fifteen
divisions of the railway mail service.
This is one of the divisions which
is helping to make Uncle Sam rich.
The net revenues of this office, de-
rived from the sale of undeliverable
articles of merchandise in the division
and by post-masters at headquarters
of the railway mail service, together
with currency found loose in the mails
and removed from letters found to be
undeliverable after careful examina-
tion, as well as postage payments and
unclaimed stamps, aggregated last
year $53,665.69. This is an increase
over the former year of $8,524.96.
The regulation requiring the col-
lection of one cent each on advertised
letters returned from the division of
dead letters has been in force only
six months, but it has already result-
ed in the collection of $11,000, making
the total net revenue for the year for
this office $64,665.69. It is estimated
that the revenue under present condi-
tions for 12 months would be approxi-
mately $75,000, which, it is said by
the officials of the office, would make
the division self-sustaining.
The department figures show that
checks, drafts, money orders and
other valuable papers of the face
value of $2,303,119.56 were found
during the year in undeliverable let-
ters, practically all of which were
reported to the owners. In connection
with this bureau, Congress has recent-
ly passed legislation reducing the
limit of time that letters containing
valuable inclosures shall be held
awaiting reclamation from four years
to one year. This, officials of the di-
vision say, will prevent the unneces-
sary accumulation of this matter, as
under the old law.—Pittsburgh Dis-
patch.
— Combs should not be washed
with water. This is apt to split the
teeth. A stiff nailbrush is a good
thing to keep for cleaning them. After
using the brush take a damp cloth
and wipe between each tooth with
this.
not advanced in price an
All of these goods are costing u
best to Hold Down the Bill on high price
market in the near future.
Bush House Block, . %
and many other articles are selling at the usual prices.
COFFEES, TEAS AND RICE.
LET US HAVE YOUR
CET
ORDER
and we will give you FINE GROCERIES at reasonable prices and give
you good service.
SECHLER & COMPANY,
Bellefonte, Pa.
57-1 - -
On our Fine Coffees at 25c¢, 28¢, 30¢, 35¢ and 40c, there has been no change
in price on quality of goods and no change in the price oO
d can be used largely as a substitute for potatoes.
s more than formerly but we are doing our
s, hoping for a more favorable
f TEAS. Rice has
shoes.
Shoes.
PRICES REDUCED
PRICES REDUCED
YEAGER'S SHOE STORE
that is purchased at Yeagers.
Compare the Prices Below
Ladies’ Kreep-a-Wa Slippers, all colors,
Childs’ Kreep-a-Wa Slippers, all colors,
Men's good quality Felt Slippers
Men’s Black and Tan Romeo Slippers
1,adies’ 8-inch Kid Boots - - -
Boy’s High Cut Shoes - - - -
Childs’ Champagne Kid Shoes -
Ladies Warm Shoes for cold feet
EAR.
STDS
98¢
75¢
75¢
$1.75
$3.25
$3.00
$1.50
$1.35
the Shoes and Slippers that you expect to
buy remember you can save on each pair
with any other firm selling shoes, then you be
the judge as to the better place to buy.
When the Time Comes to Purchase
YOU CAN SAVE MONEY
on anything you may need in the shoe line.
Bush Arcade Bldg.
YEAGER'S,
58-27
The Shoe Store for the Poor Man.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
A Bank Account
Is the Gibraltar of the Home!
If you are a man of family you must have a bank account. A BANK
ACCOUNT IS THE BULWARK, THE GIBRALTAR, OF YOUR HOME.
It protects you in time of need.
It gives you a feeling of independence.
It strengthens you.
BELLEFONTE
THE CENTRE COUNTY BANK,
It Is a Consolation to Your Wife,
to Your Children
Pl
ly