6 IN THE COVER. Across my face a gentle wind is blowing. Bearing my fancies far—where once again Iu memory I nee the wild flowers grow ing lJeneath the hedgerows of an English lane. A tiny path, half-hidden in the grasses, Eeads down the hillside to a fairy dell. Where hyacinths in heaven-tinted masses Ring eitln music from each nodding bell. Forget-me-nots in sweet profusion mingle Their tender blue with cowslip's yel low Bold, And in each nook and crevice of the dingle The early primrose rises from the mold. A laughing stream, touched by the sun to splendor, Runs through the bracken like a jew eled thread: And from afar comes, clear and sweet and tender. "Cuck-oo! cuck-oo!" by all the treezes sued. I long for this—as maiden for her lover— To stand where oft in childhood's days 1 stood, To gather posies in the dear old cover- Sweet wild-flower posies from an Eng lish Wood. •-Evelyn Slmms, In Youth's Companion. Q 1 GAMBLING | WITH FATE By WILLIAM WALLACE COOK Author of "Tb" Gold Ole»n*nr. A Story of the Ctariide Tank*." • Wilbv -i Dan," ••His Krl«*n-1 the Knerajr," "Rogcra r n ( Copyright, ItHW, William Wallace Cook ) CHAPTER I. DARREL RIDES TO SANDY BAR. When Nate Darrel went to Sandy Bar he knew he took his life in his hand. Murgatroyd was there and Murgatroyd had sworn to shoot him on sight. The element of chance, however, en tered intimately into every act of Dar rel's career. It was guide, counselor and friend for him and formed the basis of his rule of conduct. Never since he could remember had he wavered between the Known and the Unknown. Luck was the single known factor in his equation and he yielded himself blindly into the hands of fate, always expecting good fortune yet always prepared for the worst. The feud between Murgatroyd and himself was bitter and of long stand ing; and Darrel, while caring nothing for bridges in front, was careful to burn those behind. An enemy in the rear is a foe in ambush and it was well that this Murgatroyd affair should be settled once for all. Thus Darrel reasoned. After study ing the aspect of his bright particular ■star he took team and buckboard, one fine morning, and traveled out of Anaconda by the Blackfoot trail. Anaconda knew little of the astute, gentlemanly and well dressed young man. He had been in town over night and had essayed a game in the "Colonel's Own," causing a ripple of excitement by showing a discard of two aces and drawing a pair of knaves that "filled'' his hand and won him the table stakes. "It's foolish to tempt fate in that way,' said a veteran blackleg who stood near watching the play. "We make our own fate, my friend," replied Darrel in the easy, well bred way that was always his; "it is not late that makes or mars us. Be truc ulent and apprehensive and destiny turns and rends you; lay hold of it with your bare hands and you make it your slave. Fortune crawls at the feet of a daring man but hates and spurns a coward." The habitues of the "Colonel's Own" listened wonderingly. Such philosophy was over the heads of most of them, but the veteran blackleg was im pressed. "I have heard of but one man," said he "who invariably discards aces when he gets a pair. That man is Nate Dar rel of San Francisco." The veteran might have added that the play was known as "Darrel's dis card;" and that the man who had originated it had quit college to fol low the cards and prove his startling theories—a philosopher of the devils picture books, courting ruin over the green cloth that he might work out a hypothesis of doubtful value. Darrel had no intention of revealing himself. He was tarrying at Anaconda enroute to Sandy Bar and when his eccentric orbit crossed Murgatroyd's he wished it to be sudden and un expected. It chanced, nevertheless, that. Dar rel had overplayed his hand. That night the veteran gambler dispatched a mounted man to Sandy Bar with a notice to his friend Murgatroyd that Nate Darrel was in Anaconda and pos sibly would continue onto the mining camp. When Darrel drew in his team of bronchos at the Half Way House, the hour was high noon. The team ■was given Into the hands of the hos tler and Darrel went into the house for his dinner. This halting place was midway be tween Anaconda and Sandy Bar. East and west trails also crossed at this point, leading to mining regions farther back in the hills. There was much travel along the trails and it was common report that the Half Way House was the biggest gold mine in those parts. So it hap pened that the dining room was com fortably filled when the Chinese waiter ushered Darrel to a vacant chair at a side table. The ne-.vcor-ar was eyed with sus plclon. In the eyes of the rough and ready crowd already there he was too well dressed, too "pretty" and defied the laws of convenience by making a distinction in his use of knife and fork. Then, too, his voice was too soft and his language too precise. These evi dences of superiority rankled under the greasy blue shirts affected by the min ers and freighters. Before Darrel's entrance another had been looked at askance. This other was a white-faced man in corduroys with "easterner" and "tenderfoot" written large in person and manner. His reserve was stretched to the point of timidity and before he had used plate, knife and fork he had sur reptitiously wiped them on the edge of I the table cloth. That of itself was an insult which might have resulted in gun-play had the proprietor been a witness. The stranger was slender, like Darrel, had the same dark eyes and closely cropped hair and was near the same height. His face was smooth, however, while Darrel had a neatly trimmed full beard. There was something about the stranger that held Darrel's eye. A man in Darrel's peculiar line is perforce a reader of character. After a little study over the bacon, beans, coffee and sour dough bread, Darrel concluded that the gentleman in cor duroys had been driven west under the spur of conscience. Possibly his absence had left an un profitable void in some eastern bank, or other financial institution. The coining of Darrel caused gen eral attention to withdraw itself from tlie tenderfoot and focus upon him. Yet, although his superiority was man ifest, every man in the room knew that the second stranger was not a raw recruit in the ranks of the frontier. Finishing his meal under a running fire of half veiled sneers and covert jests, Darrel calmly rose and went out. "Goin' south?" asked the proprietor, withdrawing his attention from a Mex ican hag who, for four bits, was read ing an old deck of cards for a pros pector and telling him where he would best goto strike a paying lead. Darrel nodded as he settled his bill. "Mebby you'd like to help out a fellow hitman who's down on his luck?" proceeded the proprietor tenta "THE SCRATCHING OF THE CLERK'S PEN CEASED SUDDENLY WHEN HE SAW A STRANGER IN THE OFFICE." tively, for he was likewise impressed with Darrel's superiority and feared he might refuse the favor. "I shall be happy to do what 1 can," replied the young man and imme diately went up a no L ch in the other's estimation. "Then come this way." said the pro prietor, turning and making for a rear room. "It ain't much you'll be asked to do an' yer kindness 'll be appre ciated." Darrel presently found himself in a little back room where a red-whiskered man lay groaning on a cot, his right arm in splints and bandages. "Got a man for ye, Hasbrook," said the proprietor cheerily; then added, facing Darrel: "Hasbrook's hoss played out hyer an' I give him another, the best I had. The bronk threw him " "I can ride with the best of "em," groaned Hasbrook, breaking in, "but the brute is a regular devil." "The bronk threw him," continued the proprietor, heedless of the inter ruption, "an' Hasbrook's laid up with a busted arm. He was carryin' a mes sage to Sandy Bar an' if you'll take ir. he'll be obliged." "What's the message?" queried Dar rel. I "It's for Murgatroyd," said Has brook. "Who is Murgatroyd, and where will I find him?" asked Darrel, artfully. "He's a gambler at Sandy Bar an' I reckon anyone can tell where he is. Tell him Cowperthwait says Nate Dar rel is in Anacondy and maybe intends comin' to tho Bar." "Is that all?" "Yes, 'ceptin' you might add that Hasbrook started with the message, but got hung up at the Half Way House." "I'll deliver the message," said Dar rel. "Murg 'll make it right with you." Darrel threw up his hands deprecat ingly and returned to the office. The fortune teller had just finished with the prospector and swerved in quiring eyes on the young man. "Your fortune, senor?" she whim pered. "For four bits I tell you what has happened " "I know what has happened." "Uf! Then I tell you what is to come, senor. Four bits." "Very well," said he. She shuffled and shuffled and he cut* tho pack into three piles. Then she ran over the cards with great care and elaborate show of knowledge. CAMKRON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, APRIL 21, 1904 "Marde mia! Scnor it is malo, muy malo. Forswear the cards and keep away from Sandy Bar. That is what. I read. Trouble awaits you at the min ing camp, ah. mucho, raucho. What I sec. senor, I cannot understand, but here it. is: You are to die and after that you are to live " He laughed, but she flashed him the indignant look of a devotee of an exact science and continued. "The second time you live you prove, your innocence ot a crime by fastening it upon yourself. Is it not strange? I no sabe your fortune, senor, but there it is, plain to see. And, look! there ii; a queen of hearts; a fair young senorita whose fate links with yours " "That will do." The silver rang as he threw it down on the table and turned away. He had not taken two steps before the old woman had him by the arm. "You make your living with the cards, senor," she breathed harshly; "have a care that you do nothing wrong." He pulled away from her and drew himself up. "I play an honorable game," said he curtly. "Ojala!" she mumbled; "you may be honest, but you cannot be honorable j'lid follow the cards. Beware of three Knaves and two red sevens, senor." "Why?" "When you hold that hand you never leave the table alive!" "Gracias, senora," he said, a fine scorn lurking in the words; "the fu ture is a riddle and a riddle you have read me. As for the jacks full on red sevens, it is a good hand in any game and I shall be glad to receive it. Adios!" Thereupon he left the office and or dered the hostler to bring his team. CHAPTER 11. DARREL '"PRESENTS HIS COMPLI MENTS." . As Darrel climbed into his buckboard the man in corduroys rode past on a calico cayuse. To the saddle cantle was strapped a well-worn traveling bag. Darrel caught the stranger survey ing him covertly. The man's gaze was quickly averted,however,when the other parried the scrutiny with a keen look. "There's certainly a heavy load on that fellow's mind," thought Darrel as he gathered up the lines and flicked the whip lash between the bronchos' ears. The galloping cayuse was pointed south and Darrel's plunging team swiftly carried him abreast of its rider, and ahead. Quickly the stranger drew rein and was still at a halt when the buckboard and its single passenger topped a rise and vanished on the other side. In those days all sorts and condi tions of men were to be met. in that section, so Darrel scarcely gave the man in corduroys a further thought. "You may be honest, but you cannot be honorable," were the words that passed and repassed through his mind. Rarely, indeed, did this freelance al low anything to weigh upon his spir its. But there was something in the Mexicana's statement that struck cru elly aganist a desire to be a iittle differ ent and a little better than he knew himself to be. "An honorable man must be honest," thought Darrel, "but an honest man is not necessarily honorable." He smiled to himself. "That is what the senora would imply and she is not consistent." All the way to Sandy Bar he solilo quized, coming to himself abruptly when he sighted the Eponay below him and made out the huddled build ings of the camp. With a shrug he dismissed his unpleasant reflections and gave attention to the work that confronted him. "Where will I find Murgatroyd?" he asked of the man who took charge of his team at the camp corral. "That's tellin'," was the answer, as a pair of speculative eyes traveled over the newcomer. "By ten an' after you can generally find Murg at Hawk bill's. Sometimes durin' the day he's at his minin' office." "Where is the office?" "Up stairs over Kaliper's place. See that buildin' with the lamps in front?" The man pointed down the street as he put the question. "Yes," replied Darrel. "Is that Kal iper's?" "Naw, that's Hawkbill's. Kaliper's is the next buildin' north." "Thank you." Darrel started immediately, his slight, graceful figure watched curious ly by the man at the corral. "A tin horn, If I know the brand," the man muttered, shaking his head foreboding ly as he began unhitching the team; "he looks it all right, and besides he asked for Murgatroyd." At that hour of the day Sandy Bar was quiet and orderly. Night brought the miners out of the hills and the gambling gentry from their lurking places, the games and the excitement btginning simultaneously. While passing the cluster of lamps ,that. arched above the sidewalk, Dar rel took note of the temple of chance behind them. Such establishments al ways interested him professionally, and this one, with its elaborately painted* front, its fulsome display of red globes and its air of prosperity, was plainly a favorite rendezvous. Kaliper's place was a restaurant, at least a sign indicated that "meels" were to be had at all hours. A narrow stairway led to the second floor and at the top of the flight Darrel was con fronted by a door bearing the words: "L. Murgatroyd, Mines and Mining Stocks." Without a moment's hesitation, Dar rel opened the door and stepped with in. A sallow-faced young man sat at the table, writing. The clerk was alone, but off to the right was a door, partly ajar, and marked "Private." The scratching of the clerk's pen ceased suddenly when he saw a stranger in the office—a stranger with one hand behind him, under his coat. "Well?" queried the clerk. "I have business with Murgatroyd," answered Darrel. "He's out of town," said the clerk. A shadow of disappointment crossed parrel's face as the hand was with drawn from under the coat. "When will he return?" "In time for the games at Hawk bill's." "If I left a few lines for him would he see them if he gets bark?" "Reckon he would. He always cornea to the office after a trip into the hills." "Where can I write?" "Step right into his private room. Stranger in camp?" "Yes." "Know Murgatroyd?" "I've known him for a good many years." Darrel was ushered into the other apartment and the clerk placed paper, pens and envelopes at Barrel's dis posal. As he seated himself, Darrel saw a revolver lying on the desk by the inkwell. The weapon had an ebony stock, carved with a death's head. It was Murgatroyd's, as Darrel well knew, and by what chance had its owner gone into the hills without it? The clerk noticed Parrel's curious glance at the firearm. "That's the old man's," he vouch safed; "first time I ever knew him togo away and forget it. Make yourself at home. What name did you say?" "Nathan." "All right, Mr. Nathan. Nothing in this layout is too good for the old man's friends. If you don't see what you want, ask for it." "Much obliged." The clerk withdrew and resumed his penwork in the outer office. Picking up the pen, Darrel wrote as follows: "Mr. Darrel presents his compliments (o Mr. Murgatroyd and desires to state that he is now in town awaiting Mr. Murgatroyd's pleasure. Mr. Darrel also wishes it known that he can be found this evening at Mr. Hawkblll Hender son's. He trusts Mr. Murgatroyd will embrace his opportunity." Darrel knew his arrival in camp would be noised abroad and reach his enemy's ears. Murgatroyd's absence from Sandy Bar, therefore, made a sudden and unexpected meeting im possible. Darrel therefore desired the notifi cation to come through himself, in his own way. Having addressed the en velope, he inclosed the folded sheet., laid the communication on the desk and placed the revolver on it for a paperweight. Then, lighting a cigar, he leaned back in the chair, wondering why fate couldn't be kind and send Murgatroyd to him as he was then —in his enemy's own room with his enemy's own re volver within easy reach. Presently the artfulness of Murgatroyd's charac ter suggested something and the re volver suggested something else. [To Be Continued.] . TWILIGHT IN THE KITCHEN. Women Have Kver Cooked and l)r<*niimml In the filow of the HmherM. The fire-light fills the dusky room with shadows. The red coals glow and wink and the little flames snatch at the crisping toast. I always im agine Cinderella in a dusky glow like this, when she still sat in rags and cinders. Probably there was a pumpkin under her kitchen table just as there is under mine. I hope my fairy godmother won't trouble to make this one into a coach, though, for I want to make it into pies to morrow. I like to think of the morn ing after the ball, when the ugly sis ters and the stepmother were sleeping late, and Cinderella was getting break fast, dancing back and forth between the cupboard and the fire and whisper ing remarks about the prince to the kettle, says a writer in Scribner's Magazine. I know she peeped into her pocket at the little glass slipper, when she should have looked into the oven. Excellent thought! In a moment more my precious supper dish might have been black as King Alfred's cakes. Dear King Alfred, patron saint of ab sent-minded cooks! But how times change; only a day or two ago I set a mighty man to watch my cookery, and instead of letting it burn while he thought of his mighty affairs, he spent the time thinking out a dozen ways of doing it better. I have spared him the service since as tactfully as if he had burned my biscuits to cinders. The flames have su I: Into the steady glow of the coals; the red heaps and hollows are full of pictures. Women have cooked and dreamed in this em ber-glow since the world began. In the old days when the sliewbread was baking, or sometimes the "cakes for the queen of heaven." Hebrew women must have pictured marches and de liverances, seas divided and cities with miraculously fallen walls; and always the universal woman-visions of lovers and espousals, of home-comings and toddling children. * * * Fierce battles and triumphs must have glowed in the fires of the Viking wives as they watched the roasting feasts and chant ed songs of their lords' exploits. Her RoKular Day. Minister's little boy to widow, who has buried four husbands—Pa sent me up to ask you if it was Wednesday or Thursday that Mr. Smith wanted him to perform the wedding ceremony. He's forgot, and didn't like to say so to Mr. Smith. Widow —Wednesday, little boy. "That's what pa thought, but ho wasn't sure, 'cause Thursday, he said, has always been your day for marry iii'."—Stray Stories "PE-RU-NA TONES IP THE SYSTEM IF TAKEN IN THE SPRING." GAYS THIS BEAUTIFUL YOUNG GIRL. MISS MARJORY HAMPTON, OF NEW YORK. Miss Marjory Hampton, 201fl Third Avenue, New York City, writes: " I "Peruna is a fine medicine to take any season of the year. ; Taken in the spring it tones up the system and acts as a tonic, ;; j strengthening me more than a vacation. In the fall and winter A I have found that it cures colds and catarrh and also find that it i is Invaluable to keep the bowels regular, acting as a gentlestimu f lant on the system. In fact, / consider it a whole medicine I chest."—Miss Marjory Hampton. PURE BLOOD. Blood Impurities of Springtime— Cause, Prevention and Cure. Dr. Hartman's medical lectures are eagerly scanned by many thousand readers. One of the most timely and interesting lectures he ever delivered was liisrecent lecture on the blood impurities of springf. Thedoctorsaid in substancethatevery spring the blood is loaded with the effete accumulations of winter, derang ing the digestion, producing sluggish ness of the liver, overtaxing the kid neys, interfering with the action of the bowels and t lie proper circulation of the blood. This condition of things produces what is popularly known as spring fever, spring malaria, nervous exhaus tion, that tired feeling, blood thicken ing and many other names. Sometimes the victim is bilious, dys- ] peptic and constipated; sometimes he is i At the Wrong End. "I have called," said the foreigner, "to ask for your daughter's hand." "Iliive you spoken to her yet?" asked the American lather. "No. 1 thought "Well, you're at the wrong end of the line," interrupted the old gentleman. "She runs her mother, and her mother runs me."—Chicago Post. A friend in need seldom hesitate* to tell you so.—Chicago Daily News. Too many men spend their money be fore they get it.—Chicago Daily News. A cheerful face is nearly as good for an invalid as healthy weather.—Franklin. The servile imitation of others is the true mark of a little mind.—(jreville. Don't forget that a promising man sel dom pays cash.—Chicago Daily News. The way to honest fame is to study to be what you wish to seem, —Socrates. "I don't know whether she has shaken him or promised to marry him." "Why?'' "He has stopped buying extravagant pres ents for her. —Philadelphia Ledger. Patient —"I wish to consult you in re gard to my utter loss of memory." Doc tor—"Then, if you please, I will take my fee in advance."—Columbia Jester. Hadley—"Be asked me to give him a little advice." fielding—"And you gave it to him?" Hadley—"Oh, yes; I didn't care much for his friendship, you know." —Boston Transcript. "How old would you say she was?" "Well, let's see: When we were in high school together she used to snub me be cause 1 was a kid. Now I'm 37, and, um-m m, well, 1 should say she way about 28 by this time."—Town and Countiy. "I'll trouble you to hand over your watch," said the courteous footpad. "No trouble at all, I assure you," returned the equally courteous citizen. "It's one of those dollar watches that's guaranteed to run one year, and the year's up."—lndian apolis Sun. Teas—"O! that's your new hat, eh?" .Jess—"Yes, and such a bargain: only $lB. What do you think? I dropped into let Miss Crumley see it just now, and sh,» pretended she wasn't interested. Didn't even ask how much I paid for it." Tess —"No, dear, she didn't have to. You've forgotten to take off that tag marked 's4 98.' "—Philadelphia Press. * ' ■" ■ " " 1 ' 1 - ■ ■ ■ ■ i A Bad Fix When one wakes up aching from head to foot, and with the flesh tender to the touch, when Soreness and Stiffness makes every motion of the body painful, the surest and quickest way out of the trouble is to use St. Jacobs Oil promptly. It warms, relaxes, cures. Price, 25c. and SOc> MEXICAN Mustang Liniment heals Old Sores quickly. ♦ weak, nervous and depressed; and apain lie may have eruptions, swellings and other blood humors. Whichever it is, the cause is the same—effete aecumula> tions in the blood. Nothing 1 is more certain within the whole ratifreof medical science than that acourseof Perunain early springtime will perfectly and effectually prevent or cure this almost universal affection. Everybody feels it in some degree. A great majority are disturbed con siderably, while a large percent, of the human family are made very miserable by this condition every spring. Peruna will prevent it if taken in time. Peruna will cur-e it if taken asdirected. Peruna is the ideal spring l medicine of the medical profession. If you do not derive prompt and satis factory res nits from the use of Peruna, write at onee to Dr. ITartman, giving a full statement of your case, and hi' will be pleased to give you his valuable ad vice gratis. Address Dr. TTartman, President of ! Tin' llartman Sanitarium, Columbus, I Ohio. 50.000 Americans 7 Were Welcomed to jWestern Canada jjfcggrffiM during last Year 1 They are settled and settling on tha 112 '~~\J Qrain and Oraztngr Lands, and are proa perous and aatisflod. ffj Sir Wilfred Laurier recently said: "A new star lias -isen upon tho horizon, •"CK and IK toward It that every in mi grant —— TIT * who leaves the land of hin ancestors to SrtonfJ*' come and seek a home for himself now turns his gaze"—Cunudu. There i* fm ROOM FOR MILLIONS FRBB Homritrndi |rlven kVj Vii way. 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