6
The Mystery
OF -=
Carney-Croft
By
JOSEPH BROWN COOKE
(Copyright, IJJO7. by Btory-l'res* Corporation.)
CHAPTER Xl.—Continued.
"Hope I didn't hurt you, Jenks,"
said MacArdel, apologetically, when
we had him securely pinioned. "I just
want to have a little quiet talk with
you, but I'm not quite ready yet."
We let the fellow up and seated him
in a chair passing the hitching strap
from the wagon about his waist for
greater security.
"Hy the way, Jenks," said MacArdel,
as we were performing this last
thoughtful act. "Nobody can hear
if you shout, but don't do it, anyway,
or I'll have to gag you. Mr. Ware and
I have some matters to discuss and
we don't want to be disturbed."
We sat and talked about everything
under the sun except Carney-Croft and
its affairs, while I marveled at Mac-
Ardel's actions, but was unable to
question him as to his plans or ob
jects in the presence of the conquered
Jenks.
MacArdel consulted his watch with
gradually increasing frequency, and.
finally, when the hands pointed to ten
minutes before 12, he said abruptly:
"Ware, you take this fellow down to
the path where the ghosts come out
and I'll go and get the widow. I've got
her locked up in the house."
The behavior of Jenks was remark
able to witness, as MacArdel uttered
these words for, although his capture
aud that of his accomplice effectually
prevented the reappearance of the
ghost, at least on this occasion, he
could not have shown more evidences
of genuine terror if he had expected to
encounter an army of specters, -ifter
some difficulty I succeeded in getting
him to rise, and, with his arms snugly
bound behind his back, he shambled
with trembling legs down under the
trees where we were joined in anoth
er moment by MacArdel and Mrs.
Bruce.
The two guilty ones did not look at
each other, but stood in sullen defi
ance waiting for what might come
next. MacArdel placed them side by
side, and, as we faced them, he be
gan:
"You two have been circulating
ghost stories about this place all over
the country. You've even been here
yourselves at midnight, wrapped up in
sheets and trying to scare people out
of their wits and injure this property.
You were here last night and when
we shot at you we hit you, Jenks,
and wounded your hand. You dropped
the sheets and a lot of other things
and then you came back and got them
all after we had gone to bed. You
can't deny it, Jenks, for wo found
them in your wagon this morning,
while you were asleep. Now, there's
more than this," continued MacArdel.
"There has been some queer doings in
side the house, too, and you've got
some way of getting in and playing
your tricks."
He stopped speaking and eyed them
closely for a moment before going on.
Then he resumed, slowly and impres
sively:
"But there's something even worse
than all this to be explained, and we
are going to find out about the whole
matter if we have to keep you here all
night. Several of the pieces of cloth in
that bundle have been used for some
thing else than making ghost clothes.
You know what they've been used for
and —"
"Oh, my God, help me!" screamed
Jenks, and before I could reach him,
he reeled and fell forward on his face.
As I turned to his aid I saw the same
pair of filmy figures glide slowly past
us but with increasing speed as they
neared the river, where, on the prevt
ous night, they suddenly vanished be
fore our eyes.
The widow made no sound, but
ntood perfectly motionless with face
like marble and eyes almost bursting
from her head.
MacArdel stamped his foot impa
tiently and muttered:
"There's more in this than 1
thought. Help me get this fellow up,
Ware, and we'll take 'em both back to
the hous*."
CHAPTER XII.
A Second Note.
Half leading and half carrying the
unfortunate Jenks and followed by
Mtb. Bruce who walked as one in a
dream, we returned to the house.
Once on the veranda, MacArdel un
bound the fellow's arms and, noticing
bloodstains on his face and shirt front,
examined him closely to see if he had
sustained any severe injury iD his
helpless fall. Nothing more serious
than a badly cut lip was discfv»ered,
and we took the pair into the library,
where a light was burning dimly.
Turning up the lamp so that he could
see distinctly, MacArdel sent mo for
a basin of water and a towel and
stitched up the wound with material
from his pocket instrument case.
Jenks submitted to this procedure
in a stupidly dazed condition and t.j
soon as the little operation was com
pleted and an improvised dressing ap
plied, ho agal-n fell forward in a
swoon.
"Get him a drink, Ware," said Mac-
Ardel. "There's whisky in my bag,
you know."
Jenks coughed and sputtered over
the stuff in a manner nowise compli
mentary to the quality of liquor affect
ed by MacArdel, and then, bursting
into a cold perspiration, he began to
tremble violently and beg piteously to
be allowed togo home; while Mrs.
Bruce, with pale, ghastly face, pre»
served the silence that she had main
tained from the first.
"You may both goon one condi
tion," said MacArdel, sternly, "and on
one condition only! You must swear
that you will never reveal a word of
this night's doings without the consent
of Mr. Ware or myself."
"Swear nuthin'," muttered Jenks,
feebly. "I'll have the law on ye fur
this, ye varmint!"
Like a flash MacArdel grasped his
arm in a vice-like grip and said cold
ly:
"You remember how I handled you
before, Jenks? Well, you know I'm
your master when it comes to a fight,
and unless you do as I tell you and do
it at once, back you goto the path
where the ghosts are!"
"I hain't afeered of 'em ef you
hain't," mumbled Jenks, with a half
hearted attempt at bravado. "I reckon
they won't hurt nobody none."
His very manner showed that he
wvs quaking in his shoes, and Mac-
Ardel was quick to note it and make
the most of it.
"You won't have me with you,
Jenks," he continued, impressively.
"We'll tie you to a tree and leave you
there alone, unless you do as 1 say.
Do you understand?"
That Jenks understood there could
be no doubt, for his terror was obvi
ous as he hastened to exclaim:
"I'll swear, mister! I'll swear teh
' ' on One
anything, ef ye'll only let us git aouten i
this place an' go home!"
There was a small Bible on the li- j
brary table and MacArdel caused !
Jenks and the widow to place a hand j
upon it as they successively took upon i
themselves a solemn obligation to pre- !
serve absolute secrecy concerning the |
affair of the evening. This done, Mac-
Ardel addressed them briefly but im
pressively:
"Do not think, for a moment," he
said, "that. I have changed my opinion
as to your knowledge of the things
that, are going on here. I'll admit that
there is more to it than 1 thought at
first and that more people are mixed
up in it than I had supposed. Hut
that only makes it the easier for us,
because, in affairs of this kind, there
is danger in numbers, and, while I
am convinced that you two are the
ringleaders in the whole business, the
more confederates you have the soon
er will we be able to make one of
them confess.
"You may go now, but mind you re
member the oath you have taken to
night or it will go hard with you both.
As long as you keep this thing to your
selves you won't get into trouble, but
the moment you start any fuss about
it you will hoar from us in a way
that will make your hair stand on
end! And whatever you do, don't
forget that I'm a doctor, and that I
know, just as well as you do, what
those old rags have been used for!"
With this significant remark, Mac-
Ardel opened the door of the room
and we followed them out of the
house and watched them as they clam
bered into Iho wagon and drove rapid
ly away.
When they were out of earshot I
said ab-uptly:
"This is a pretty mess that »ou've
made of things, Mac! Do you realize
that these people can have us up for
assault and duress, and I don't know
how many other crimes into the bar
gain, and yet we're no wiser than we
were before!"
• Oh, yes we are!" said MacArdel.
"We know a lot oi' things that we
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JUNE 13, 1907.
never dreamed of at first, and if yon
hadn't been so busy with Jenks when
he toppled over you'd have seen w**
I mean "
"Well," 1 returned, "they were both
frightened nearly out of their wits by
the spooks, and I don't believe they
know any more about 'em than we
do!"
"Nonsense!" cried MacArdel. "You
did not watch them as closely as I did,
that's all. 1 confess they were fright
ened, but each in a different way. Now,
Jenks was scared almost to death, and
you may take my word for it that his
terror was genuine, and that he believ
ed the things to be supernatural. But
it wasn't so with the widow. She knew
all about them, you may be sure, and
when they came so close to us she was
only afraid that we would capture
them or shoot them or do something
of that sort. Of course this Jenks
knows about the bundle of cloths be
cause he had thein last night when
you shot him in the hand, but I don't
believe he has any idea of what they
had been used for. I tell you. Ware,
the widow is at the head of this whole
job and Jenks is nothing but her
tool."
"Well," I replied, "it may be as you
say, but I wish we were out of it.
You may be right in your deductions,
but they've got a perfect case against
us if they choose to take it into court,
and. with the popular prejudice that
exists around here against the Car
neys, a jury of these farmers would
give us the limit of the law. It isn't
a matter of fine, either, Mac. It's a
felony that we've been committing to
night, and that means a term in pris
on, I want you to understand!"
Closing up the house we retired to
our room and, as we were making
ready for the night, I said:
"Why didn't you make them sign
some kind of a paper that would have
exonerated us? it would have been
j just as easy as swearing them to it and
| it would be hard for them to overthrow
! it in court. I might have thought of it
! myself, I suppose, but as I have been
| following you blindly all the evening
i without any definite idea of what
j you've been driving at, my brain
i wasn't working as quickly as it should
have been.l tell you, Mac, I wish
[we had some sort of documentary
I evideuce to show that we wouldn't be
| clapped into jail within the next day
I or so."
"Little good it would do to you,"
I said MacArdel, "if you treated it as
I carelessly as those things you have in
I your pocket. You'll lose 'em out in
| another minute."
1 extracted from the side pocket of
! my coat, as it hung upon a chair, a
folded paper which was on the point
of falling to the floor, and as I did
not remember having seen it before, I
opened it and read with interest and
amazement. On it was written in a
bold flowing hand:
"If you persuade Miss Carney to re
main away from Carney-Croft and
leave the house closed as in the past,
the ghosts will make no further ap
pearance, and neither Jenks nor Mrs.
Bruce will disclose the affairs of to
night. Otherwise BEWARE!"
I handed it without comment to
MacArdel who read it attentively and
then exclaimed in triumph:
"What did I tell you. Ware? It's
just as I said. The widow knew what
to expect when I locked her in the
house and she wrote this note so as
I to have it ready in case she needed
it. Then she watched her opportu
nity and slipped it into your pocket
as she stood by your side. I told
you I was on the right track, old
man."
"Maybe you are, and maybe you're
not," 1 grumbled, as I curled up in
bed and reached to see if my pistol
was handy before I closed my eyes.
<TO BE CONTINUED.)
Never See Her That Way.
With all her faults I love her still,
but she is so seldom that way.
Women
as Imitators
Men
By Rebecca Harding Davis
Womanity vs. Humanity—Vanity
of Modern Woman Over Her
Achievements Business Not
Her Highest Occupation— "To '
Keep House and Be a Joyful
Mother of Children" a Woman's
Birthright.
(Copyright by J. B. Bowled.)
(Mrs. Kebecca Harding Davis has long
been known as a talented writer of fic
tion. Among her many works may be
mentioned "A Law Unto Herself," "John
Androßs," "Frances VValdeaux" and "Dr.
Warrick's Daughters." Her home is in
Philadelphia. She is the mother of Rich
ard Harding Davis, the author.)
Surely we are all familiar by this
time with the claims to admiration
of the new woman; the beauty and
energy and keen mother wit which,
as Americans believe, set her apart
from the women of other nations and
make her unique, as was once the
huntress Diana among the gods.
She never tires of counting over her
recent successes, from the marvelous
costumes that she wears to her
achievements in biology, in cookery
or in founding new religions. The
woman of the last generation walked
in a narrow path; in her life, as in
a Chinese song, there were but three
notes —love, marriage and motherhood.
But this queen of the present hour
has a thousand parts to play. You
never know where to find her. She
may be driving a four-in-hand in
Broadway or looking for the north
pole in the arctic seas or nursing
some poor beggar in the slums, or,
most likely of all, she may be set
tling herself comfortably for life as
duchess or princess in some old Eng
lish or Italian family.
We all look on with pride, and
wonder complacently what she will do
next.
The chief difference between her
and her grandmother—and it is a
very curious difference —is that the
older woman regarded herself sim
ply as part of the human race. The
man was its head, its spokesman.
She thought of herself as his child,
his wife or his mother.
The woman of to-day Is -not only
his equal but his antagonist. She
talks not of humanity but womanity.
Every village has its club of women
who urge each other into new profes
sions, work or studies which have
hitherto been considered the business
of men only.
Every newspaper has a woman's de
partment In which the successes of
the sex in wresting trades and handi
crafts from their brothers and hus
bands are daily noted.
I saw to-day the announcement that
a woman was now filling a place as
brakeman on a western railway. This
fact is told with a hysterical sob of
triumph, as though when this ener
getic young person laid her hand on
the brake she had dealt a fatal blow
at the foe of her sex and had made
for herself a long stride upward In
the scale of being.
In our national exhibitions, too,
there is always a woman's department
where statues, pictures, soaps, confec
tionery, etc., made by our sex are ex
hibited apart to prove that women
are as skillful with their fingers as
men.
I confess I do not understand this
belligerent attitude in the modern
woman, nor her vanity. Is she not
human, like the man? Has she not
the same fingers, eyes and tongue?
She is not a monkey nor a freak that
her cleverness should be trumpeted
and paraded as abnormal in the pub
lic eye.
A man when he invents a new plow
or paints a picture does not shout out:
"A man—a man has done this! Not
a woman! See how superior the malo
of the race is to the female!"
But we American women of late
years never weary of boasting of the
doings of our sex, and especially on
the ground that they are so much like
the doings of men!
It is true that at the close of the
civil war our women were forced to
compete with men for work and
wages in every part of the field of
labor. They had to make a place for
themselves then as wage-earners or
starve. It was no wonder that they
were aggressive and sharp during that
time.
But why squabble and flglrt now?
The whole field is open to them. All
of the fences are down. There Is not
now, I believe, a single honest occupa
tion by which a living can be earned
which is not open to a capable, decent
woman to try for it. Men give her
a fair field and much favor. Whether
Rhe chooses to drive a garbage cart or
write a historic ndvel, they invaria
bly are kinder to her endeavors and
applaud her more loudly than if she
were a man.
Why, then, this incessant, defiant
assertion of woman's achievements
and possibilities?
This constant noisy boasting seems
to be akin to the loud cackling In the
barnyard of a hen over each new-laid
egg, as if an egg never had been laid
before.
Another mistake, it seems to me, is
made by my energetic young sister
when she thinks that her chief errand
into life is the work which she doaa
to keep herself alive. She sings such
energetic paeans over her success as
a doctor or china painter or sales
woman- sho is naturally in her need
of money so thankful to have work to
do and so glad that she can do it—
that she begins to think that when
she was sent into the world, to work
was to bo her highest occupation.
It is not true. There is not a fiber
in her body nor an impulse in her
nature which does not show that the
real primary business in life is to be
a home-maker, the comrade of a man
and the mother of his children.
God in His wisdom may have denied
her that highest and best work, but
whatever else she may do she knows
in her heart that it is the highest and
the best.
A "southern woman" the other day
rated her sisters of the south sharply
because they "took it for granted that
no woman is a wage-earner except
from necessity and that when the ne
cessity is removed she would gladly
return to her old vocation—that of
the lily of the field."
And why not?
The vocation of the lily of the field
is to be fair and sweet, to make one
little place on God's earth brighter
and fitter for His sight and to repro
duce its kind to do the same work
when it is dead.
The woman who makes her home a
center of help and Intelligence and
high endeavor, who brings forth chil
dren and fits them in that home for
their future life, ha 3 done enough.
She does not need to earn a single
dollar in any way to justify her right
to live.
As for the woman who voluntarily
gives up her birthright—"to keep
house and be a joyful mother of chil
ren" —in order that she may busy her
self with public work, she is precisely
in the position of that mad English
peer of whom we all read a few years
ago, who turned his back on his birth
right—castles, title and revenues—in
order that he might tramp on tho
high road grinding a hand-organ for
a dancing monkey.
She is choosing the meaner part in
her ambition to exploit herself be
fore the public. No club work is as
honorable or helpful as a gentlewom
an's management of her home and fam
ily; nothing that lier talents enable
her to give to the world —whether
book or statue or lecture —will ever
be as important or powerful an Influ
ence in it as a living child.
This is not a pleasant subject, but
when we read that the births of chil
dren of native American parents have
fallen off one-half in certain northern
states in the last two decades, It sure
ly is worth our consideration. As men
go, the native American is a whole
some good bit of that human stuff
which makes up humanity. The world
seems to need him just now If he
is not to be born into it, J doubt
whether the books or charitabl« work
given to it by childless American wom
en will fill his place.
There is one pleasant fact, however,
which cheers and comforts us in all
these doubts and dangers. That i>,
that the large majority of American
women have kept their footing dur
ing all the struggles of their sex since
the close of the civil war. They have
earned money when it was necessary
to do it, but they have not raised
money-earning to the highest place
among the achievements of life. They
have been shrewd, amused listeners to
the feminine wrangles in clubs and
newspapers, but are themselves usual
ly silent and unpublished. Occasion
ally they have exerted the power of
dumb resistance with most salutary
effect, as when for several decades
they have silently refused to claim the
right of suffrage.
They are best known by what they
do not do. They prefer to live in
homes, not in boarding houses and ho
tels. They are not childless mothers
nor divorced wives. They find no
higher codo of truth to teach their lit
tle ones than that which Jesus brought
to the world. They do not replace it
by the sharp worldly wisdom of Con
fucius or the vague yearnings of
Buddhism. They answer all argu
ments by the question: "Who has led
man so far upward as Christ?" and go
on quietly teaching their children tho
Sermon on the Mount.
You call them old-fashioned and
commonplace, perhaps. But they are
eminently sane. One of the strongest
iroofs of their sanity is that they are
content to bo women and not imi
tators of men and that they still keep
In their lives that charm of modesty
and aloofness which the noisy minor
ity of «ir women have so foolishly
thrown aside.
Sharp Practice.
Andre Autard, who makes John D.
Rockefeller's wigs, is a plump and ele
gant Frenchman with thin black hair,
a rich black mustache and black and
sparkling eyes.
Autard has a shop in the best quar
ter of Paris. Here all the world goes
to be shaved, ondulated, massaged.
And here an American talked to the
great hairdresser about the exorbitant
duty that Mr. Rockefeller had to pay
on his last wig.
"It was sharp practice," said Au
tard in the fluent English that he
learned in London. "To compel Mr.
Rockefeller to pay such a duty was
hardly honest. Sharp practice it was
—like the way I was treated in my ap
prenticeship. When I was learning
barberlng 1 applied for a post In Lon
don. The patron engaged me at a cer
tain wage and at the end of our talk
he said: 'Of course it is understood
that you speak both French and Eng
lish."
" Yes, sir,' I responded quickly, "and
Dutch also.'
" 'We have no dealings with Dutch
men here,' said he, 'therefore I will
take one-third off that salary."
A WONDERFUL GAIN.
A Utah Pioneer Telia a Remarkable
Story.
J. W. Browning, 1011 22(1 St., Ogden,
Utah, a pioneer who crossed the
plains in 1848, says:
J "Five years ago the
\ doctors said 1 had
\ diabetes. My kid
neys were all out
' J of order, I had to
rise often at night,
looked sallow, felt
W an( * listless
* and had lost 40
«®r pounds. My back
ached and I had
Bpell3 of rheumatism and dizziness.
Doan'e Kidney Pills relieved me of
these troubles and have kept me well
for a year past. Though 75 years old,
I am in good health."
Sold by all dealers. 50 cents a box.
Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y.
Medicine of Bamboo Sap.
In India the sap of the female bam
boo tree is used for medicinal pur
poses. "Tabasheer," or "banslocban/*
is sold in all Indian bazars, as it has
been known from the earliest times as
a medicinal agent. It is also known
In Borneo, and was an article of com
merce with early Arab traders of the
east. Its properties- are said to be
strengthening, tonic and cooling. It
has been analyzed and has been shown
to consist almost entirely of silica,
with traces of lime and potash. From
its remarkable occurrence in the hol
lows of bamboos the eastern mind has
long associated it with miraculous
powers.
Shall We Allow Our Cattle to Be
Slaughtered
In an effort to stamp out Bovine Tuber
culosis? Thousands of our best Dairy
Cows arc being killed in the effort and
yet the disease spreads. Recently a
booklet issued to all readers free by
The Mutual Mercantile Co., Cleveland,
0., claims that a few cents worth of
Rasawa procured at any Drug Store
and fed to the cow will render her
absolutely immune to the disease, and
it is surely a sensible move in the right.
*ay if the claim is true. At any rate
is it not worth while to get the booklet
free from your druggists and read
what they say? It is especially so
when so many thousands of cases of
Consumption in the human family are
now easily traced direct to the Dairy
as the cause.
Stolen Naps.
"How do you like that office boy I
sent around?" asked the banker.
"Don't think much of him," replied
the broker. "He isn't wide awake."
"But you told me the last office boy
you engaged was too forward and you
wanted one who was retiring."
"Yes, but this one is too retiring.
Every time I slip out for a few hours
I find that he retires on top of the big
6afe and snores until I return."
Important to Mothers.
Examine carefully every bottle of CASTORTA,
a safe and sure remedy for infants and children,
and see that it
la Dee For Over 30 Years.
The Kind You Have Always Bought.
Too Swift for Londoners.
According to the British postmaster
general the post office experiments in
typewriting telegrams have "not been
altogether satisfactory." The London
Globe conjectures that the telegraph
department wants "something slower."
Shake Into Your Shoes
Allen's Foot-Ease. It cures painful,swollen,
smarting, sweating feet. Makes new shoes
easy. Sold by all Druggists and Shoe Stores.
Don't accept any substitute. SampleFßEE.
Address A. S. Olmsted, Le Roy, N. Y.
The acme of goodness is to love the
public, to study universal good, and to
promote the interests of the whole
world, as far as lies in our power.-
Ruskin.
Don't Use "Practically
Pure" White Lead
There is no other pigment that is
"practically" White Lead—no other
paint that has the properties of Pure
White Lead Paint.
Pure White Lead, good paint that
it is, cannot carry adulterants without
having its efficiency impaired. To get
Pure White Lead durability, see to
it that every keg bears the Dutch 15oy
trade mark—a guarantee that the con
tents are absolutely Pure White Lead
made by the Old Dutch Process.
SEND FOR BOOK
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information on the paint subject. Sent
free upon request.
NATIONAL LEAD COMPANY
in whichever qf the follow
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