6 THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE &Kmaby & ROBERTS ❖ MNEHART ILLUSTRATIONS 3Y tAPY*UUIT nob sv < fUMMJUf C+ ' SYNOPSIS. Ml 9B Innps, spinster and guardian of Gertrude and Halsey, established sum mer headquarters at Sumiyslde. Arnold Armstrong was found shot to death in the hull. Gertrude and her fiance. Jack Bailey, had conversed in the billiard room shortly before the murder. Datec tive Jainieson accused Miss Innes of hola |n< back evidence. Cashier Bailey of Paul Armstrong's bunk, defunct, was arrested for embezzlement. Paul Armstrong death was announced. Halsey s IJancee, T.oulse Armstrong, told Ilalsey that while she still loved him. she was to marry an other. It developsd that. Dr. Walker was the man. Louise was found unconscious nt the bottom of the circular Bhe said something had brushed by her In the dark on the stairway and she fainted. Bailey is suspected of Arm strong's murder. Thomas, the er. was found dead with a note in hie nockrt bearing the name 'Lucien \\ai face." A ladder found out of place deep ens the mystery. The stables burned, and in the dark Miss Inn's shot an Intruder. Halsey mysteriously disap peared. His auto was found wrecked by a freight train. It developed Halsey had an arKument In the library with a w-oman before his disappearance. New cook dis appears. Miss Innes learned llaleey was alive. CHAPTER XXVII. Who Is Nina Carrlngton? The four days, from Saturday to the following Tuesday, we lived, or ex isted, in a state of the most dreadful suspense. We ate only when Ltddy brought in a tray, and then very little. The papers, of course, had got hold of the story, and we were besieged by newspaper men. From all over the country false clews came pouring fn and raised hopes that crumbled again to nothing. Every morgue within 100 miles, every hospital, had been vis ited. without result. The inaction was deadly. Liddy cried all day., and, because she ltnew I objected to tears, sniffled audibly around the corner. "For heaven's sake, smile!" I snapped at her. And her ghastly at tempt at a grin, with her swollen nose and red eyes, G>ade me hysterical. I laughed and cried together, and pret ty soon, like the two old fools we were, we were Bitting together weep ing into the same handkerchief. On Tuesday, then, I sent for the car «nd prepared togo out. As I waited at the porte-cochere I saw the under gardener, an inoffensive, grayish haired man, trimming borders near the house. The day detective was watching him, sitting on the carriage block. When he saw me, he got up. "Miss Innes," he said, taking off his hat, "do you know where Alex, the ; gardener, is?" "Why, no. Isn't he here?" I asked. "He has been gone since yesterday afternoon. Have you—employed him long?" "Only a couple of weeks." "Is he efficient? A capable man?" "I hardly know," I said vaguely. "The place looks all right, and I know very little about such things. I know much more about boxes of roses than hushes of them." "This man." pointing to the assis tant, "s: y. \lex isn't a gardener. That he doesn't know anything about plants." "That's very strange," I said, think ing hard. "Why, he came to me from the Brays, who are in Europe." "Exactly." The detective smiled. "Every man who cuts grass isn't a gard n< r. Miss Innes, and just now It is our policy to believe every person arot ni' here u rascal until he proves to be the other thing." Warner came up with the car then, and tli'- conversation stopped. As he helped me ir\ however, the detective said something further. "Not a word or sign to \lex, If he comes back," he said cautiously. I wi-nt first to Ilr. Walker's. I was tired of 1' at!tig about the bush, and I felt thnt the key to llalsey's disap pearance was here at Casanova, In spite of Mr latnleson a theories The doctor was in. He came at once to the door of his consulting room, and there was no mask of cor diality in his manner. "Please come tn," he said curtly. "1 shall stay here, I think, doctor." I did not like his face or his manner; there w a a subtle ehltngt In both lie had thrown off the air of friendliness, and I thought, too, that he looked anx ious and hai-'ard "l)r Walker," I said. "I have come to you to ask some questions. I hope you will answer 112 m \s you know, toy nephew has not yet been found " "So I understand," sillily. "I IJ.*II u if you would, you could help us, and tl t leads to one of my questions Will you !e|| me what was the n*t»ir> of the conversation yon held Wl' l a In uiuht he was at tacked and cair'. d off?" If" he ssld with prut Hided sun rl e It. ally. Miss I ! ' ! ' 1 • il • Hi t tints a .It rul lff > and death. Will you I id M> '• '1 him h> U> d I think ing to strike me. He grew livid, and a small crooked blood-vessel In his tem ple swelled and throbbed curiously. Then he forced a short laugh. "Who is Nina Carrington?" he asked. "I am about to discover that," I re plied, and he was quiet at once. It was not difficult to divine that he feared Nina Carrington a good deal more than he did the devil. Our leave taking was brief; in fact, we merely stared at each other over the waiting room table, with its litter of year-old magazines. Then I turned and went out. "To Richfield," I told Warner, and on the way I thought, and thought hard. "Nina Carrington, Nina Carrington," the roar and rush of the wheels seemed to sing the words. "Nina Car rington, N. C." And I then knew, knew as surely as if I had seen the whole thing. There had been an N. C. on the suit case belonging to the wom an with the pitted face. How simple it all seemed. Mattie Bliss had been Nina Carrington. It was she Warner had heard in the library. It was some thing she had told Halsey that had taken him frantically to Dr. Walker's office, and from there perhaps to his death. If we could find the woman, we might find what had become of Hal sey. We were almost at Richfield now, so I kept on. My mind was not on my errand there now. It was back with Halsey on that memorable night. What was it he had said to Louise, that had sent her up to Sunnyside, half wild with fear for him? I made up my mind, as the car drew up before the Tate cottage, that I would see Louise if I had to break into the house at night. Almost exactly the same scene as before greeted my eyes at the cottage. Mrs. Tate, the baby-carriage in the path, the children at the swing—all were the same. She came forward to meet me, and I noticed that some of the anxious lines had gone out of her face. She looked young, almost pretty. "I am glad you have come back," she said. "I think I will have to be honest and give you back your money." "Why?" I asked. "Has the mother come?" "No, but some one came and paid the boy's board for a month. She talked to him for a long time, but when I asked him afterward he didn't know her name." "A young woman?" "Not very young. About 40, I sup pose. She was small and fair-haired, just a little bit gray, and very sad. She was in deep mourning, and, I think, when she came, she expected to go at once. But the child, Lucien, in terested her. She talked to him for a long time, and, indeed, she looked much happier when she left." "You are sure this was not the real mother?" "O mercy, no! Why, she didn't know which of the three was Lucien. I thought perhaps she was a friend of yours, but, of course, I didn't ask." "She was not—pock-marked?" I asked at a venture. "No, indeed. A skin like a baby's, j But perhaps you will know the in j itials. She gave Lucien a handker ! chief and forgot It. It was very fine, | black-bordered, and it had three hand | worked letters In the corner—F. B. A." "No," I said with truth enough, "she | is not a friend of mine." F. B. A. was Fanny Armstrong, without a chance of j doubt. With another warning to Mrs. Tate as to silence, we started back to Sun |—l fet 112 k mk <4 v 1] V# Lk_ * > /S > - W-) v O. r i r- „.- ~_j *> *- > * -J UJ v •--.. .; . /j j u At*« W«• Ainu .1 d Immediate answer, ftuf It was the first real Information we had hud; my boy hud not been mur , dert-d outright. Hut Instead of vague > terrors there was now the reul fear that he might he lying In some Strang' hospital lying the casuul atten tion commonly given to the charity i cases Km ii this, had we known It J would have been paradise to the ter rlbh iruth I wake yet uud feel my 1 silt cold iitid trembling with the hor ror of Hal ; UK I'IiSTIM'KP.) Labor That Aids tho World. It U Hue that all wealth coined from labor, but not necessarily from I labor by the bauds. The thinkers at j 'hi world have added Inestimably to | i development. |t was a portrait i lutiiUr who Invent*.t lit t.Ugrauh. a I college professor who pruducttd Mm I i «-t aoii', and the list might be »i I. lilt d kluiost Indefinitely. it |» wet I I|I„ i today, with ail our luduig.nic I • • U*e wtMia • I the t.tillt. unlet Z# |U TEN EN LTART temper never mellows with age, and a sharp tongue Is the only tool that grows keener with constant use. —lrving. Ways of Using Stale Cake. When the cake Is in a loaf It Is easy matter to steam It and make a good pudding sauce of eggs and sugar with a little milk and flavoring or a cooked sauce of half a cup of sugar, two tablespoonfuls of flour and the same of butter, half a cup of boiling water and two tablespoonfuls of vine gar. Cook until smooth and flavor with grated nutmeg. All bits of cake may be worked over Into the steamed brown bread, so that nothing need be wasted. Sweet Fritters. Take one and a half cupfuls of stale cake crumbs. Beat together one egg, one tablespoonful of sugar, one cup of flour sifted with a teaspoonful of baking powder; add enough milk to make a thin batter and stir in the crumbs. Bake on a hot griddle as pan cakes and serve with sirup. Another nice dessert with cake may be prepared by laying slices of cake in a serving dish, pour over fruit Juice of any desired flavor and fill the dish with a custard. Serve cold. Economical Pudding. Beat three eggs, add a cup of sugar and three cups of milk and flavoring. Add two cups of cake crumbs and bake in a slow oven one hour. A little breakfast cereal left over or a little cooked rice may be added to this pudding, and a few raisins, though these are not necessary. A Few Hints. When buying a box of laundry soap, ■which is a good way to do, take it from the box and pile it in a dry place where the air can circulate through it. Dry soap spends much better than green. Turn the scrub brush bristles down when drying and the moisture will drain out rather than soak into the wood. Velvet ribbons may be freshened by Bteaming over a wet cloth placed over a hot iron. Hem the dishcloths to save the lint which ragged edges make, and such cloths will be respected and better used. A nice umbrella should be carefully dried before putting away, and never left rolled in its case for any length of time, as it Is apt to crack in the folds. I * KT there be many windows In That all the glory of the universe May beautify It. Not the narrow pans Of one poor creed can catch the radi ant rays That shine from countless sources. Tear away The blinds of superstition. I>et the light Pour through fair windows, broad ua truth Itself, And high as heaven. . . . Tune your ear To all the wordless music of the stars. And to the voice of nature; and your heart Shall turij to truth and goodness as the plant Turns to the sun. A thousand unseen hands Reach down to help you to their peace crowned heights; And all the forces of the Armament Shall fortify your strength. He not afraid To thrust aside half truths and grasp the whole. The Chafing Dish. To the woman with many servants the chntlng dish Is a pleasant amuse ment, to the woman who has non« It Is a pleasant and practical change from the every day serving of things Sunday night suppers are a delight, prepared from the chafing dish. To make a success of the meal all the preparations should be carefully made before hand The butter meas ured In a tablespoon and made Into balls Is then ready to use without measuring The stock or milk may be measured and put Into little pitchers. Have the salt, pepper and flour all In a group easy to And. If meat or flsh Is to he used let It be dlo'd as It Is to be served. See that the lamp Is filled and the utensils at hand before Inviting out the guests. There are any number of dishes easy to serve from a chitting dish sui h as creamed i ggs, poached, scrambled and onieh is Creamed sweetbreads, creamed mushrooms, oysters In a variety of ways, small birds, flsh and chicken flood alcohol Is < xpen lvo, hut It does not burn away us fast as th« »oo ( | alcohol and does not Wave the burner entered with the sticky depos it that the wood alcohol d< >•* A nice way Is to serve a cocktail of fruit or a salad while the gue-'s are waiting as yon prepare the mam dlshc- (live each IIR» something to Me on. klan |ke !.. t i ■ di he* In th< Witch- ii end 11 •.Iy k< et> / L£ i it.*— S MADE HIS APOLOGY AMPLE Irish Legislator Even Withdrew the Words That He Was About to Utter. There la in congress a western rep resentative of Celtic origin who has more than once "stirred up the ani mals" by his propensity to bait the opposition. On one occasion he rose to de nounce the statements made in a speech that had been delivered by a member of the other party. His im petuosity led him to phrase his re marks rather strongly. "Order, order!" exclaimed the speaker, pounding with his gavel. Again, in a minute or two, did the son of Erin return to his charge of wilful misstatement. Again was he called to "order." It was a critical moment. His col leagues, for motives of policy, did not wish him to be put out of the debate, so they hinted so by tugging vigor ously at his coat tails. Now, it's a very dangerous matter to trifle with the tails of an Irishman's coat, save in the cause of friendship. Nevertheless, the indignant yet good natured member recognized the com mand of his party and sat down aftet delivering this Parthian dart: "I obey the ruling of the House, and I beg to retract what I was about to observe!" That one touch of Irish oratory took the whole House by storm. —Lippin- cott's. BABY WASTED TO SKELETON "My little son, when about a year and a half old, began to have sores come out on his face. I had a physi cian treat him, but the sores grew worse. Then they began to come out on his arms, then on other parts of his body, and then one came on his chest, worse than the others. Then I called another physician. Still he grew worse. At the end of about a year and a half of suffering he grew so bad that I had to tie his hands in cloths at night to keep him from scratching the sores and tearing the flesh. He got to be a mere skeleton, and was hardly able to walk. "My aunt advised me to try Cutl cura Soap and Cuticura Ointment. I sent to a drug store and got a cake of Cuticura Soap and a box of the Oint ment and followed directions. At the end of two months the sores were all well. He has never had any sores of any kind since. I can sincerely say that only for Cuticura tny child would have died. I used only one cake of Cuticura Soap and about three boxes of Ointment. "I am a nurse and my profession brings me into many different fam ilies and it is always a pleasure for me to tell my story and recommend Cuticura Remedies. Mrs. Egbert Shel don, Litchfield, Conn., Oct. 23, 1909." CHANGED HIS MIND. Mrs. Ferndale —We haven't any oggs. but I can get some if you want them very bad! Summerbord—Never mind, I don't caro for that kind. { DRINK WATER TO CURE ? KIDNEYS AND RHEUMATISM t ) The People Do Not Drink Enough I Water to Keep Healthy, ji ) Saya Well-Known { Authority. "The numerous cases of kidney and bladder dl*ea»e«i and rheumatism are mainly due to the fact that the drink ing of water, nature's grcateat medi cine, has been neglected. Stop loadltm your ayatem with med icine* at>d eure-nlla; but get on the water wagon. If you are really nick, why, of coiirae, take the proper medi cine.-. plain, common v< table treat* 11.> ut, which will not shatter the n< rvea or ruin the atomaeh." To cure Itheiiinatisin you must make the kiiltuys do th«-lr wurk; tin the filter*) of the blood They RIUHt I) made to *truin out <>f the k>|i>>u| tt* v .i.it«• matter and add* thai cauao r? etimnii*m; (he urine must be n> u* T rallied MI It will no longer be a aouri eof Irritation to tlc> bl older,end, r.'ost of all, you miwt keep th«-<« add* from forming In the ATOMAEH, TI U ii the « u .■ of etoniarh trot t>l.< ii d I" or it Its* alien, For tlieae etndlilt ua I |« '...ii. hell ouio e. > n« nd