Bull-Dog
Drummond
The Adventures of a
Demobilized Officer Who
Found Peace Dull
sm—
by CYRIL McNEILE
“SAPPER”
ILLUSTRATIONS BY
IRWIN MYERS
Copyright by Geo. H. Doran Co.
(Continued from last week.)
SYNOPSIS.
mets.
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t
Hugh grinned sheepishly.
“The exchange went wrong,” he re-
marked at length. “Astonishing how
rotten the telephones are in town these
days.”
“Quite remarkable,” she returned.
«] thought you weren't feeling very
well or something. Of course, if it
was the exchange . . .”
“They sort of buzz and blow, don’t
you know,” be explained helpfully.
«That must be most fearfully jolly
for them,” she agreed. And there
was silence for the next two miles.
Once or twice he looked at her out
of the corner of his eye, taking in
every detail of the sweet profile so
near to him. Except for their first
meeting at the Carlton, it was the
only time he had ever had her com-
pletely to himself, and Hugh was de-
termined to make the most of it. He
felt as if he could go on driving for
ever, just he and she alone. It was
then that the girl turned and looked
at him. The car swerved danger
' cusly. . .
PROLOGUE.—In December, 1918, four
mén gathered in a hotel in Berne and
beard one of the quartet
to paralyze Great Britain and at the
outline a plan |
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same time seize world power. The other :
three, Hocking, American, and
end Von Gratz, Germans, all millionaires,
agree to the scheme, providing another
man, Hiram Potts, an American, is taken
in. The instigator of the plot gives his
pame as Comte de Guy, but when he
leaves for England with his daughter he
decides to use the name Carl Peterson.
CHAPTER I. — Capt. Hugh (Bulldog)
Drummond, a retired officer, advertises
r work that will give him excitement,
ng “X10.” As a result he meets
Phyllis Benton,
swered his ad. She tells him of strange
murders and robberies of which she sus- |
ts a band headed by Carl Peterson and
Steineman i
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a young woman who an-
nry Lakington of being the leaders. :
CHAPTER IL—Drummond decides to
go to The Larches, Miss Benton's home.
{
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An attempt is made on the road to wreck
his machine when another, occupled by
Peterson, Lakington and a strange man,
blocks the road. While dining with Phyl-
lis Benton and her father Drummond
hears a terrible shriek at The Elms. Dur-
ing the night Drummond leaves The
Yarches and explores The Elms. He dis-
covers Lakington and Peterson using a
thumbscrew on an American who signs
a paper. Drummond rescues the Ameri-
can after a struggle and takes him to
his home. The man is Hiram C. Potts.
. CHAPTER II1—Peterson visits Drum- |
mond the next day, departing with a
threat to return later and recover Potts
and also a torn paper which Drummond
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geized the night of the fight. With the
ald of Peter Darrel, an old army friend, |
Drummond arranges to hide Potts, and
substitute in his place one Mullings, a de-
mobilized soldier, who 1s seized by Peter-
son and his gang and taken to The Elms,
along with Drummond.
CHAPTER IV.— When Peterson dis-
covers the hoax Drummond is escorted
by Irma to & room where he is to stay
for the night. During the night Drum-
mond is exploring the house when he gets
in a strange room in which is a cobra.
He escapes, but on the stairs has a fight
in the dark.
CHAPTER V.—Drummond enlists the
|
“Let's stop,” she said, with the sus-
picion of a smile. “Then you can tell
me.”
Hugh drew into the side of the
road. and switched off the engine.
“You're not fair,” he remarked, and
if the girl saw his hand trembling a
little as he opened the door, she gave
no sign. He came and stood beside
her, and his right arm lay along the
seat just behind her shoulders.
«ell me about this important
thing,” she said a little nervously.
He smiled, and no woman yet born
could see Hugh Drummond smile with-
out smiling too.
«you darlieg!” he whispered, under
his breath—“you adorable darling Mm
His arm closed around her, and, al-
most before she realized it, she felt
his lips on hers. For a moment she
sat motionless, while the wonder of
it surged over her, and the sky seemed
more gloriously blue, and the woods
a richer green. Then, with a little
gasp, she pushed him away.
“You mustn't oh!
mustn't, Hugh,” she whispered.
“And why not, little girl?” he said
exultantly. “Don’t you know I love
you?”
to hers. “Well?”
«Well, what?’ she murmured.
“It’s your turn,” he whispered. “I
love you, Phyllis—just love you.”
«But it’s only two or ihree days
since we met,” she said feebly.
“And phwat the divil has that got
to do with it, at all?” he demanded.
«Would I he waiting longer to de-
you
His face was still very close
t
| cfde such an obvious fact? Tell me,” |
. he went un, and she felt his arm round
ald of Algy Longworth, Toby Sinclair,
Ted Jerningham and Jerry Seymour, the
latter an aviator.
Drummond, after an |
encounter with the pseudo Potts, meets
Irma talking to the marquis of Laidley |
and suspects the gang is plotting for the |
I
Laidley jewels. Drummond and his friends
are gassed as they sit in his apartment.
Lakington carries off Potts.
§ SNL Na ST Judas csr EE La
CHAPTER VI.—When Drummond and
his friends recover they plan to again res-
cue Potts. Drummond goes to see Phyl-
1is and besides learning Potts has been
taken to The Elms also becomes engaged
to her. Drummond is captured by the
gang in the attempted rescue.
“No go, old Lean,” said Hugh. de-
cisively. “Too many of ’em to hope
to pull it off. No, low cunning is the
only thing that’s got an earthly of
succeeding.”
-——om, on *
for the love of Heaven don’t ram the
wrong gate.”
“What are you going to do yeur
self?” demanded Peter suspiciously.
“I'm going to look at her from cloe
to. Go away, all of you, and don’t
listen outside the telephone box.”
THREE,
Hugh stopped his car at Guildford |
station and, lighting a cigarette,
strolled restlessly up and down.
looked at his watch a dozen times in
two minutes; he threw away bis
smoke before it was half finished. Tn °
short he manifested every symptom
usually displayed by the male of the
gpecies when awaiting the arrival of
the opposite sex. Over the telephone
he had arranged that she should come
by train from Godalming to confer
with him on a matter of great import- |
ance; she had said she would, but
what was it? He, having no suitable
answer ready; had made a loud buzz-
ing noise indicative of a telephone
exchange in pain. and then rung off.
And now he was waiting in that pe-
culiar condition of mind, which reveals
itself outwardly in hands that are
rather too warm, and feet that are
rather too cold.
“When is this bally train likely to
arrive?’ He accosted a phlegmatic
official, who regarded him coldly, and
doubted the likelihood of its being
more than a quarter of an hour early.
At length it was signaled, and Hugh
got back into his car. Feverishly he
scanned the faces of the passengers as
they came out into the street, until,
with a sudden quick jump of his
heart, he saw her, cool and fresh,
coming toward him with a faint
smile on her lips.
“What is this very important matter
you want to talk to me about?” she
demanded, as he assisted her into his
car.
“I'll tell you when we get out on
the Hog’s Back,” he said slipping in
his clutch, “It’s ahsolutely vital.”
He stole a glance at her, but she
«as looking straight in front of her,
and her face seemed expressionless.
“You must stand a long way off
when you do,” she sald demurely.
“At least if it’s the same thing as you
With a grin he rose, and |
then strolled toward the door. “Now |
go and rope in Ted and Jerry, and |
He !
|
her again forcing her to look at him
—%ell me, don't you care . o o 8
little?”
“What's the use?’ She still strong:
«led, but, even to her, it wasn’t very
convincing, “We've got other things
to.do, . . We can’t think of. >
And then this very determined
young man settled matters in his
usual straightforward fashion. She
felt herself lifted bodily out of the
car as if she had been a child: she
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She Found Herself Lying in His Arms,
With Hugh's Eyes Looking Very
Tenderly Into Her Own and a Whim-
sical Grin Around His Mouth.
found herself lving in his arms, <with
Hugh's eyes looking very tenderly in-
to her own, and a whimsical grin
around his mouth.
“Cars pass bere,” he remarked,
“with great regularity. I know you'd
hate to be discerered in this posi-
tion.”
“Would I?”
wonder . +
She felt his heart pound madly
against her; and with a sudden quick
movement she put forth her arms
round his neck and kissed him on the
mouth,
“Is that good enough?” she asked,
very low: and just for a few moments,
time stood still. . . . Then, very
gently, he put her back in the car.
“I suppose,” he remarked resigned-
ly, “that we had better descend to
trivialities. We've had lots of fun
and games since I last saw you a year
or two ago.” }
“Jdiot boy,” she said happily.
was yesterday morning.”
“The interruption is considered
trivial. Mere facts don't count when
it's you and me.” There was a fur-
ther interlude of uncertain duration,
followed rapidly by another because
she “1
»
whispered.
“It
old me over the ’phone.” B 1 the tirst was so nice. - =
“To resume,’ continued Hugh, “I
regret to state that they've got Potts.
The girl sat up quickly and stared
at him.
“Got him? Oh, Hugh! how did they
manage it?”
“I'm d—d if 1 know,” he answered
grimly. “They found out that he was
in my bungalow at Goring during the
afternoon by sending round a man to
see about the water. Somehow or
other he must have doped the drink
or the food. because after dinner we
all fell asleep. I don’t remember any-
thing more till 1 woke this morning
with the most appalling head. Of
course, Potts had gone.”
“] heard the car drive up in the
middle of the night,” said the girl
thoughtfully. “Do you think he’s at
The Elms now?”
«That is what 1 propose to find
out tonight,” answered Hugh. “We
have staged a little comedy for Peter-
son’s especial benefit, and we are hop-
ing for the best.”
“Oh, boy, do be careful!” She
1ooked at him anxiously. “I'd never
forgive myself if anything happened
to you. Fd feel it was all due to
me, and 1 just couldn’t bear it.”
“Dear little girl.” he whispered ten-
derly. “youre simply adorable when
vou look like that. But not even for
you would I back out of this show
now.” His mouth set in a grim line.
“It’s gone altogether too far, and
they've shown themselves to be so
completely beyond the pale that it's
got to be fought out. And when it
has been,” he caught both her hanas
in his “and we've won
why then, girl o’ mine, we'll
| got Peter Darrell to be best man.”
Which was the cae for the com-
mencement of the last and longest
interlude, terminated only by the sud-
den and unwelcome appearance of a
motor-'bus covered within and with-
out by unromantic s’ghtseers, and
paper-bags containing bananas,
They drove slowly back to Guild-
ford, and on the way he told her brief-
Iy of the murder of the American’s
secretary in Belfast, and his inter-
vinw the preceding afternoon with
the impostor at the Carlton.
“It's a tough proposition,” he re-
marked quietly. “They're absolutely
without scruple, aad their power
scems unlimited. [I know they are
after the duchess of Lampshire’s
pearls: 1 found the beautiful Irma
consumirg tea with young Laidley
vesterday—you know, the duke's eld-
est son. But there’s scmething more
in the wind than that, Phyllis—some-
Ling which. unless I'm a mug of the
‘rst water, is an infinitely larger
roposition than that.”
The car drew up at the station,
and he strolled with her to the plat-
. form.
Then the train came in, and
he put her into a carriage. And two
minutes later, with the touch of her
lips warm on his, and her anxious
little ery, “Take care, my darling !—
It was Jerry Seymour who then
took up the bawl. His voice was in-
tensely solemn—also extremely loud.
«preposhterous. Perfectly preposh-
terous. We must go end apologize
to the owner. sn lie. Yo
absholutely . . . musht apologize.
. . . Quite unpardonable. . . -
You can't go about country . .
knocking down gates. . . . Out of
queshtion. . . J”
Half-consciously Hugh listened, but,
now that the moment for action had
come, every faculty was concentrated
on his own job. He saw half a dozen
men go rushing out into the garden
through a side door, and then two
more ran out and came straight toward
him. They crashed past him and went
on into the darkness, and for an in-
stant he wondered what they were
doing. A little later he was destined
fofindout. . . .
Then came a peal at the front-door
bell, and he determined to wait no
longer. He darted through the gar-
den door, to find a flight of stairs in
front of him, and in another moment
he was on the first floor. He walked
rapidly along the landing, trying to
find his bearings, and, turning a corner,
he found himself at the top of the
main staircase—the spot where he had
fought Peterson two nights previous-
ly.
He walked quickly on to the room
which he calculated was the one where
he had seen the shadow on the blind.
Without a secend’s hesitation he flung
the door open and walked in. There
lying in the bed, was the American,
while crouched beside him, with a re-
volver in his hand, was a man. . . .
For a few seconds they watched one
another in silence, and then the man
straightened up.
“The soldier!”
young pup!”
Deliberately, almost casually, he
raised his revolver, and then the un-
expected happened. A jet of liquid
ammonia struck him full in the face,
and with a short laugh Hugh dropped
his water-pistol in his pocket, and
turned his attention to the bed. Wrap-
ping the millionaire in a blanket, he
picked him up, and, paying no more
attention to the man gasping and chok-
ing in a corner, he raced for the back
stairs.
Below he could hear Jerry hiccough-
ing gently, and explaining to the pro
sha pro . pritor that he per-
shonally would repair . inshisted
on repairing any and every
gate posht he posshessed. . And
then he reached the garden. .
Everything had fallen out exactly
as he had hoped, but had hardly dared
to expect. He heard Peterson's voice,
calm and suave as usual, answering
Jerry. From the garden in front came
the dreadful sound of a duet by Algy
and Peter. Not a soul was in sight;
the back of the house was clear. All
he snarled. “You
' that he had to do was to walk quietly
take care!” still ringing in his ears, he
got into his car and drove off to an
hotel to get an early dinner.
FOUR,
At a quarter to ten he backed his
car into the shadow of some trees
not far from the gate of The Elms.
Save for a light in the sitting-raom !
. and one in a bedroom upstairs, the
front of the house was in darkness,
and, treading noiselessly on the turf,
he explored all round it. There was
one bedroom light at the back of the
house, and thrown on the blind he
could see the shadow of a man. AS
he watched, the man got up and
moved away, only to return in a mo-
ment or two and take up his old posi-
tion.
“It's one of those two bedrooms,”
he muttered to himself, “if he’s here
at all.” :
Then he crouched in the shadow of
some shrubs and waited. Through
the trees to his right he could see The
Larches, and once, with a sudden
quickening of his heart, he thought he
saw the outline of the girl show up
in the light from the drawing-room.
But it was only for a second, and
lien it was gore. . . .
He peered at his watch: it was Just
ten o'clock. The trees were creaking
gently in the faint wind; all around
him the strange night noises—noises
which play pranks with a man’s |
nerves—were whispering and mutter-
ing. Bushes seemed suddenly to come
to life, and move; eerie shapes
crawled pver the ground toward
Lim—figures which existed only in |
his imagination. And once again the
thrill of the night stalker gripped
him.
He remembered the German who
pad lain motionless for an hour in a
little gully by Hebuterne, while he
from behind a stunted bush had tried
to locate him. And then that one
creak as the Boche had moved hisleg.’
And then . . . the end. On that
night, too, the little hummocks had
moved and taken to themselves
strange shapes: fifty times he had
imagined he saw him; fifty times he
knew he was wrong—in time. He
was used to it; the night held no
terrors for him, only a fierce excite-
ment. And thus it was that as he
crouched In the bushes, waiting for
the game to start, his pulse was as
normal, and his nerves as steady as
if he had been sitting down to supper.
The only difference was that in his
hand he held something tight-gripped.
At last faintly in the distance he
heard the hum of a car. Rapidly it
grew louder, and he smiled grimly to
Simself as the sound of five unme-
imilous voices singing lustily struck
his ear. They passed along the road
in front of the house. There was a
sudden crash—then silence; but only
for a moment.
Peter's voice came first:
‘uyou priceless old "ass,
rammed the blinking gate.”
you've
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through the wicket-gate to The
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“The Soldier!” He Snarled. “You
Young Pup!”
Larches with his semi-conscious bur-
den, get to his car, and drive off. It
all seemed so easy that he laughed. .. .
But there were one or two factors
that he had forgotten, and the first
and most important one was the man
upstairs. The window was thrown up
suddenly, and the man leaned out wav-
ing his arms. He was still gasping
with the strength of the ammonia, but
Hugh saw him clearly in the light from
the room behind. And as he cursed
himself for a fool in not having tied
him up, from the trees close by there
came the sharp clang of metal.
With a quick catch in his breath he
began to run. The two men who had
rushed past him before he had entered
the house, and whom, save for a pass-
ing thought, he had disregarded, had
become the principal danger. For he
had heard that clang before; he re-
menibered Jem Smith's white horror-
struck face, and then his sigh of re-
lief as the thing—whatever it was—
was shut in its cage. And now it was
out, dodging through the trees, let
loose by the two men. He heard some-
thing crash into a bush on his right,
and give a snarl of anger. Like a flash
20 swerved into the undergrowth on
the left.
Then began a dreadful game. He
was. still some way from the fence,
and he was hampered at. every step
by the man slung over his back. He
could hear the thing blundering
about searching for him, and sudden-
ly, with a cold feeling of fear, he
vealized that the animal was in front
of him—that his way to the gate was
barred. The next moment he saw
i...
Shadowy, indistinct, in the darkness,
he saw something glide between two
bushes. Then it came out into the
open, and he knew it bad seen him,
though as yet he could not make out
what it was.
Cautiously he lowered the million-
aire to the ground, and took a step
forward. It was enough; with a snarl
of fury the crouch
shambled toward him. Two hairy arms
shot out toward his throat, he smelt
the brute’s foetid breath, hot and loath-
some, and he realized what he was
up against. It was a partially grown
gorilla.
For a full minute they fought In
silence, save for the hoarse grunts of
the animal as it tried to tear away
the man’s hand from its throat, and
then encircle him with its powerful
arms. And with his brain cold as ice
Hugh saw his danger and kept his
head. It couldn’t go on; no human
being could last the pace, whatever his
strength. And there was only one
chance of finishing it quickly, the pos-
sibility that the grip taught him by
Olaki would serve with a monkey as it
did with a man.
He shifted his left thumb an inch
or two on the brute’s throat, and the
baboon, thinking he was weakening,
redoubled its efforts. And then, little
by little, the fingers moved, and the
grip which had been tight before grew
tighter still. Back went its head;
something was snapping in its neck.
With a scream of fear and rage it
wrapped its legs round Drummond,
squeezing and writhing. And then sud-
denly there was a tearing snap, and
the great limbs relaxed and grew
limp.
For a moment the man stood watch-
ing the still quivering brute lying at
his feet; then, with a gasp of utter
exhaustion, he dropped on the ground
himself. He was done—utterly
cooked; even Peterson's voice close
behind scarcely roused him,
“Quite one of the most amusing en-
tertainments I've seen for a long time.”
The calm, expressionless voice made
him look up wearily, and he saw that
he was surrounded by men. The in-
evitable cigar glowed red im the dark-
ness, and after a moment or two he
scrambled unsteadily to his feet.
“1rd forgotten your d—d menagerie,
I must frankly confess,” he remarked.
“What's the party for?” He glanced
at the men who had closed in round
him.
“A guard of honor, my young
friend,” said PeterSon suavely, “is lead
you to the house. I wouldn’t hesitate
. . . it's very foolish. Your friends
have gone, and, strong as you are, I
don’t think you can manage ten.”
Hugh commenced to stroll toward
the house.
“Well, don’t leave the wretched
Potts lying about. I dropped him over i
there.”
CHAPTER VIL,
in Which He Spends an Hour or Two
on a Roof.
ONE.
Drummond paused for a moment at |
the door of the sitting room, then with
a slight shrug he stepped past Peter-
son, During the last few days he had
grown to look on this particular room
as the private den of the principals of
the gang. He associated it in his mind
with Peterson himself, suave, impas-
sive, ruthless; with the girl Irma, per-
fectly gowned, lying on the sofa, smok-
ing innumerable cigarettes, and mani-
curing her already faultless nails; and
in a lesser degree, with Henry Laking-
ton’s thin, cruel face, and blue, staring
eyes.
But tonight a different scene con-
fronted him. The girl was not there;
her accustomed place on the sofa was
occupied by an unkempt-looking man
with a ragged beard. At the end of
the table was a vacant chair, on the
right of which sat Lakington regard-
ing him with malevolent fury. Along
the table on each side there were half
a dozen men, and he glanced at their
faces. Some were obviously foreign-
ers; some might have been anything
from murderers to Sunday school
teachers. There was one with spec-
tacles and the general appearance of
an intimidated rabbit, while his neigh-
bor, helped by a large red scar right
across his cheek, and two bloodshot
eyes, struck Hugh as being the sort
of man with whom one would not
share a luncheon basket.
Peterson's voice from just behind
his shoulder roused him.
“Permit me, gentlemen, to introduce
to you Captain Drummond, D. S. 0,
M. CO. the originator of the little en-
tertainment we have just had.”
Hugh bowed gravely. “My only re-
gret is that it failed to function,” he
remarked. “As I told you outside, I'd
quite forgotten your menagerie. In
fact”—his glance wandered slowly and
somewhat pointedly from face to face
at the table—*I had no idea it was
such a large one.”
“So this is the insolent young swine,
is it?” The bloodshot eyes of the man
with the scarred face turned on him
morogely. “What I cannot understand
is why he hasn’t been killed by now.”
Hugh waggled an accusing finger at
him.
“] knew you were a nasty man as
soon as I saw you. Now look at Hen-
ry up at the end of the table; he
doesn’t say that sort of thing. And
you do hate me, don’t you, Henry?
Fow's the Jaw?”
“Captain Drummond,” sald Laking-
ton, ignoring Hugh and addressing the
first speaker, “was very nearly killed
last night. I thought for some time
as to whether I would or not, but I
finally decided it would be much too
easy a death. So it can be remedied
tonight.”
If Hugh felt a momentary twinge of
. fear at the calm, expressionless tone,
and the half-satisfied grunt which
greeted the words, no trace of it
showed on his face. Already the
realization had come to him that if
he got through the night alive he would
be more than passing lucky, but he
was too much of a fatalist to let that
. worry him unduly. So he merely stifled
a yawn, and again turned to Lakington.
“So it was you, my little one, whose
fairy face I saw pressed against the
' window. Would it be indiscreet to ask
how you got the dope into us?”
Lakington looked at him with an ex-
| pression of grim satisfaction on his
: face.
“You were gassed, if you want to
know. An admirable invention of my
friend Kauffner's nation.”
{ A guttural chuckle came from one
; of the men, and Hugh looked at him
. grimly.
“The scum certainly would not be
| complete,” he remarked to Peterson,
“without a filthy Boche in it.”
The German pushed back his chair
with an oath, his face purple with
passion.
“A filthy Boche,” he muttered thick-
ly, lurching toward Hugh. “Hold him
the arms of, and I will the throat tear
oat. oY
It all happened so quickly. At one
moment Hugh was apparently intent
upon selecting a cigarette, the next
instant the case had fallen to the
floor; there was a dull, heavy thud,
and the Boche crashed back, over-
turned a chair, and fell like a log to
the floor, his head hitting the wall with
a vicious crack. The bloodshot being
resumed his seat a little limply. Hugh
resumed his search for a cigarette.
“After which breezy interlude,” re-
marked Peterson, “let us to business
ge ”
| Hugh paused in the act of striking
a match, and for the first time a gen-
uine smile spread over his face.
“There are moments, Peterson,” he
murmured, “when you really appeal
to me.”
Peterson took the empty chair next
to Lakington.
“Sit down,” he said shortly. “I can
only hope that I shall appeal to you
still more before we kill you.”
Hugh bowed and sat down.
“Consideration,” he murmured, “was
! always your strong point. May I ask
| now long I have to live?”
Peterson smiled genially.
“At the earnest request of Mr. Lak-
ington you are to be spared until to-
morrow. At least, that is our present
intention. Of course, there might be
an accident In the night; in a house
like this one never can tell. Or’—
! he carefully cut the end off a cigar—-
, “you might go mad, in which case “we
' shouldn't bother to kill you. In fact
if you go mad, we shall not be di-
I pleased.”
| Once again he smiled genially.
«as I said before, in a house like
”
| this, you can never tell.
| The intimidated rabbit, breathing
‘heavily, was staring at Hugh fasciu-
' ated; and after a moment Hugh turned
to him with a courteous bow.
i “Laddie,” he remarked, “you've heer
' eating onions. Do you mind deflecting
{ the blast in the opposite direction?”
| His calm imperturbability seemed to
i madden Lakington.
| “You wait,” he snarled thickly; “you
| wait till I've finished with you. You
| won't be so d—d humorous then. . ..”
| Hugh regarded the speaker languid-
1 1y.
| “Your supposition is more than prob-
| able,” he remarked, in a bored voice.
«1 shall be too intent on getting into
a Turkish bath to remove the contam-
ination to think of laughing.”
(To be Continued..) ‘
BEES MUST BE FED TO SAVE
STATE HONEY INDUSTRY.
Unless the bee-keepers and farmers
of the State provide food for their
bees, during the next few weeks,
thousand of hives of bees will be lost.
These bees are now literally starving
to death.
This warning to the bee-keepers has
been sent broadcast throughout the
State by the Bureau of Plant Indus-
try of the Pennsylvania Department
of Agriculture, which has general su-
pervision over the bee industry in the
State. ;
The freezing weather of the spring
which destroyed the blossoms on the
fruit trees in many sections of the
State, destroyed the food supply of
thousands of colonies of bees. The
clover in many sections of the State
was also a complete loss as a result
of the late spring freezes. Bee-keep-
ers are urged to see to it that their
charges are properly nourished. Ad-
vice on the feeding of bees will be
furnished by the Bureau of Plant In-
dustry of Pennsylvania Department of
Agriculture at Harrisburg.
«Shoot to Kill” is Order to All Post-
Office Employees.
«Shoot to kill” is the order which,
with 20,000 automatic pistols and
thousands of riot guns has gone out
to postal employees throughout the
country. Postmaster General Hays
says:
"We simply have to go back to the
old Wells-Fargo days and put an end
to mail robberies by the drastic meth-
ods then in vogue.”
But while the postal employees, by
the new order, are instructed to take
no chances in protecting their lives
and the mail, capturing bandits will
be more profitable. An additional or-
der of the Postmaster General pro-
vides a reward of $5000 to any post-
office employee, civil officer or civil-
ian who delivers a mail robber into
custody.
e————————————
“Qle,” said the preacher to the
Swedish bridegroom-to-be, “do you
take Hilda Sorgeson for your lawful
wedded wife, for better or for worse sid
“Qh, well,” replied Ole gloomily,
“Aye s’pose Aye get a little of each.”
— American Legion Weekly.