6 jjT- 1 1 8 SYNOPSIS. Howard Jefflies, banker's son, untie: tljo mil Inlhience of Robert Underwood a fellow-student at Yale, leads a life o dissipation, marries the daughter of i gambler who died In prison, and Is dls owned by Ills father. He tries to gel wort mid fails. A former college chum makes n business proposition to Howard whlct requires eash, and Howard is broke Robert Underwood, who had been re pulsed by Howard's wife, Annie, in hli college days, and had once been engagec to Alicia, Howard's stepmother, has apartments at the Astruria, and is ap parently in prosperous circumstances Howard recalls a Sl'.V) loan to Underwood that remains unpaid, and decides to ash him for the $2,000 he needs. Underwood taking advantage of his intimacy wltt Mrs. Jeffries, Sr., becomes a sort of socla highwayman. Discovering his true char acter sla denies him the house. Alicia receives a note from Underwood, threat ening suicide. She decides togo and see him. He is in desperate financial straits Art dealers for whom he has been acting an commissioner, demand an accounting, He cannot make good. Howard Jellriei calls In an Intoxicated condition. lie asks Underwood for $2,000. CHAPTER Vl.—Continued. lie helped himself to another drink, his hand shaking so that he could hardly hold the decanter. He was fast approaching the state of complete intoxication. Underwood made no at tempt to interfere. Why should he care if the young fool made a sot of himself? The sooner he drank him self insensible the quicker he would get rid of him. "No, Howard,"-he said; "you'd never make a decent member of society." "P'r'aps not," hiccoughed Howard. "How does Annie take her social ostracism?" inquired Underwood. "Like a brick. She's a thorough bred. all right. She's all to the good." "All the same, I'm sorry 1 ever in troduced you to her," replied Under wood. "I never thought you'd make Btich a fool of yourself as to marry—" Howard shook his head in a maud lin manner, as he replied: "I don't know whether 1 made a fool of myself or not, but she's all right. She's got in her the makings of a great woman—very crude, but still the makings. The only thing I object to is, she insists ongoing back to work, just as if I'd permit such a tiling. Do you know what I said on our wedding day? 'Mrs. Howard Jeff ries, you are entering one of the old est families in America. Nature has fitted you for social leadership. You'll bo a petted, pampered member of that select few called the "400,"' and now, damn it all, how can I ask her togo back to work? But if you'll let me have that $2,000 —" By this time Howard was beginning to get drowsy. Lying back on the sofa, he proceeded to make himself comfortable. "Two thousand dollars!" laughed Underwood. "Why, man, I'm in debt up to my eyes." As far as his condition enabled him, Howard gave a start of surprise. "Hard up!" he exclaimed. Pointing around the room, he said: "What's all this—a bluff?" Underwood nodded. "A bluff, that's it. Not a picture, not a vase, not a stick belongs to me. You'll have togo to your fa ther." "Never," said Howard despondently. The suggestion was evidently too much for him, because he stretched o>:t his band for his whisky glass. "Fa ther's done with me," he said dole fully. "He'll relent," suggested Under wood. Howard shook his head drowsily. Touching his brow, ho said: "Too much brains, too much up here." Placing his hand on his heart, he went on: "Too little down here. Once he gets an idea, he never lets it go, he holds on. Obstinate. One idea—stick to it. Gee, but I've made a tness of tilings, haven't I?" Underwood looked at him with con tempt. "You've made a mess of your life," he said bitterly, "yet you've had some measure of happiness. You, at least, married the woman you love. Drunk en beast as you are, I envy you. The woman 1 wanted married some one el.-.a, damn her!" Howard was so drowsy from the effects of the whisky that he was al most asleep. As ho lay back on the sofa, lie gurgled: "Say, old man; I didn't come here to listen to hard-luck stories. I cnine to tell one." In maudlin fashion he began to sing, "Oh. listen to my tale of woe," while Underwood sal glaring at him, won dering how he could put him out. As he reached the ,nst verse his head began to nod. The words carno thickly from his lips and he sank sleepily back among the soft divan pillows. Just at that moment the telephone bell rang. Underwood quickly picked up the receiver. "Who's that?" he asked. As ho beard the answer his face lit up nnd he replied eagerly: "Mrs. Jeffries yes I'll come down. No, tell her to come up." Hanging up the receiver, he hastily went over to the divan and shook Howard. \& m I THIRD DKMX KLON Y y j ART! lURHORNBLOW Y ! ILLUSTRATIONS BY PAY WALTER COPYRIGHT. 1909, BY O.W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY Sank Sleepily Back Among the Soft Divan Pillows. "Howard, wake up! confound you! You've got to get out —there's some body coming." He shook him roughly, but his old classmate made no attempt to move. "Quick, do you hear!" exclaimed Underwood impatiently. "Wake up— some one's coming." Howard sleepily half opened his eyes. He had forgotten entirely where he was and believed he w r as on the train, for he answered: "Sure, I'm sleepy. Say—porter, make up my bed." His patience exhausted, Underwood was about to pull him from the sofa by force, when there was a ring at the front door. Bending quickly over his compan ion, Underwook saw that he was fast asleep. There was no time to awaken him and got him out of the way, so, quickly, lie took a big screen and ar ranged it around the divan so that Howard could not be seen. Then he hurried to the front door and opened it. Alicia entered. CHAPTER VII. For a few moments Underwood was too much overcome by emotion to speak. Alicia brushed by in haughty silence, not deigning to look at him. All he heard was the soft rustle of her clinging silk gown as it swept along the floor. She was incensed with him, of course, but she had come. That was all he asked. She had come in time to save him. He would talk to her and explain every thing and she would understand. She would help him in this crisis as she had in the past. Their long friendship, all these years of intimacy, could not end like this. There was still hope for him. The situation was not aa desperate as he feared. He might yet avert the shameful end of the suicide. Advancing toward her, he said in a hoarse whisper: "Oh, this is good of you, you've come—this is the answer to my let ter." Alicia ignored his extended hand and took a seat. Then, turning on him, she exclaimed indignantly: "The answer should be a horse whip. How dare you send me such a message?" Drawing from her bug the letter received from htm that evening, she demanded: "What do you expect to gain by this threat?" "Don't be angry, Alicia." Underwood spoke soothingly, trying ro conciliate her. Well he knew the seductive power of his voice. Often he had used it and not in vain, but to-night it fell on cold, indifferent ears. "Don't call me by that name," she snapped. Underwood made no answer. He turned slightly paler and, folding his arms, Just looked at her, in silence. There was an awkward pause. At last she said: "I hope you understand that every thing's over between UH. Our ac quaintance Is at. an end." ".My feelings toward you can never change," replied Underwood earnest ly. "1 love you—l shall always love you." Alicia gave a little shrug of her shoulders, expressive of utter Indiffer ence. "Love!" she exclaimed mockingly CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, MARCH 23, 1911. "You love no one but yourself." Underwood advanced nearer to her and there was a tremor in his voice as he said: "You have no right to say that. You remember what we once were. Whose fault is it that I am where I am to day? When you broke our engage ment and married old Jeffries to grati fy your social ambition, you ruined my life. You didn't destroy my love—you couldn't kill that. You may forbid me everything—to see you—to speak to you—even to think of you, but I can never forget that you are the only woman I ever cared for. If you had married me, I might have been a dif ferent man. And now, just when I want you most, you deny me even your friendship. What have I done to de serve such treatment? Is it fair? Is it just?" Alicia hud listened with growing im patience. It was only with difficulty that she contained herself. Now she interrupted him hotly: "I broke my engagement with you because I found that you were deceiv ing me—just as you deceived others." "It's a lie!" broke in Underwood. "I may have trifled with others, but I never deceived you." Alicia rose and, crossing the room, carelessly inspected one of the pic tures on the wall, a study of the nude by liouguereau. "We need not go into that," she said haughtily. "That is all over now. I came to ask you what this letter—this threat—means. What do you expect to gain by taking your life unless I continue to be your friend? How can I be a friend to a man like you? You know what your friendship for a wom an means. It means that you would drag her down to your own level and disgrace her as well as yourself. Thank God, my eyes are now opened to your truo character. No self re specting woman could afford to allow her name to be associated with yours. You are as incapable of disinterested friendship as you are of common hon esty." Coldly she added: "I hope you quite understand that henceforth my house is closed to you. if we happen to meet in public, it must be as stran gers." Underwood did not speak. Words I seemed to fail him. Ills face was set and white. A nervous twitching about the mouth showed the terrible mental strain which the man was under, in the excitement he had forgotten about Howard's presence on the divan be hind the screen. A listener might have j detected the heavy breathing of the j sleeper, but even Alicia herself was ! too preoccupied to notice It. Under wood extended his nrtus pleadingly: "Alicia —for the sake of auld lung syne!" "Auld lang syne," she retorted. "I want to forget the past. The old mem ories r.re distasteful. My only object In coming here to-jiight was to make the situation plain to you and to ask you *o promise me »otto carry out your threat to kill yourself. Why should you kill yourself? Only cowards : do that. Because you are In trouble? j That is the coward's way out. Leave , N%w York. Oo where you are not known. You nre still young Begin ' life over again, somewhere else." Ad vanclng toward him, she went on: i "If you will do this I will help you. j I never want to see you again, but I'll ; try not to think of you unalndly. But j you must promise me solemnly not to make any attempt against your life." "I promise nothing," muttered Un derwood doggedly. "But you must," she insisted. "It would be a terrible crime, not only against yourself, but against others. You must give me your word." Underwood shook his head. "I promise nothing." "But you must," persisted Alicia. "I won't stir from here until I have your promise." He looked at her curiously. "If my life has no interest for you, why should you care?" he asked. There was a note of scorn in his voice which aroused his visitor's wrath. Crumpling up his letter in her hand, she confronted him angrily. "Shall I tell you why I care?" she cried. "Because you accuse me in this letter of being the cause of your death —I, who have been your friend in | spite of your dishonesty. Oh! it's des picable, contemptible! Above all, it's a lie—" Underwood shrugged his shoulders. Cynically he replied: "So it wasn't so much concern for me as for yourself that brought you here." Alicia's eyes flashed us she an swered: "Yes, I wished to spare myself this indignity, the shame of being asso ciated in any way with a suicide. I was afraid you meant what you said." "Afraid," interrupted Underwood bitterly, "that some of the scandal might reach as far as the aristocratic Mrs. Howard Jeffries, Sr.!" Her face flushed with anger, Alicia paced up and down the room. The man's taunts stung her to the quick. In a way, she felt that he was right. She ought to have guessed his charac ter long ago and had nothing to dc with him. He seemed desperate enough to do anything, yet she doubt ed If he had the courage to kill him self. She thought she would try more conciliatory methods, so, stopping short, she said more gently: "You know my husband has suffered through the wretched marriage of his only son. You know how deeply we both feel this disgrace, and yet you would add —" Underwood laughed mockingly. "Why should I consider your hus band's feelings?" he cried. "He didn't consider mine when he married you." Suddenly bending forward, every nerve tense, he continued hoarsely: "Alicia, I tell you I'm desperate. I'm hemmed in on all sides by creditors. You know what your friendship—your patronage means? If you drop me now, your friends will follow—they're a lot of sheep led by you—and when my creditors hear of me they'll be down on me like a flock of wolves. I'm not able to make a settlement. Prison stares me in the face." Glancing around at the handsome furnishings, Alicia replied carelessly: "I'm not responsible for your wrong doing. I want to protect my friends. If they are a lot of sheep, as you say, that is precisely why I should warn them. They have Implicit confidence in me. You have borrowed their mon ey, cheated them at cards, stolen from them. Your acquaintance with me has given them the opportunity. But now I've found you out. I refuse any long er to sacrifice my friends, my self-re spsct, my sense of decency." Angrily she continued: "You thought, you could bluff nie. You've adopted this cow ard's way of forcing me to receive you against my will. Well, you've failed. 1 will not sanction your rob bing my friends. I will not allow you to sill them any more of your high priced rubbish, or permit you to cheat them at cards." Underwood listened in silence. He stood motionless, watching her flushed face as she heaped reproaches on him. She- was practically pronouncing his death sentence, yet lie could not help thinking how pretty she looked. When she had finished he said nothing, but, going to his desk, he opened a small drawer and took out a revolver. Alicia recoiled, frightened. "What are you going to do?" she cried. Underwood smiled bitterly. "Oh. don't be afraid. I wouldn't do It while you are here. In split, of all you've said to me, I still think too much of you for that." Replacing th<- pistol In the drawer, he added: "Alicia, if you desert me now, you'll be sorry today of your death." Ills visitor looked at him In sllenci* Then, contemptuously, she snid: (To UK CIIN'TINUKD.) Sameness. "There Is a certain HumeneNs about natural scenery," said the man who looks bored. "Do you mean to compare u mm nlllcent mountain with the broad ei pause of the sea?" "Yes. Wherever you find a spot ot exceptional beauty nornebody IN HIII< to decorate It with sardine tins a tit blsenlt boxes."- Washington tiUfc' Particularly the Ladies. Not only pleasant and refreshing to the taste, but gently cleansing and sweet ening to the system, Syrup of Pigs and Elixir of Senna is particularly adapted to ladies and children, and beneficial in all cases in which a wholesome, strength ening and effective laxative should bo used. It is perfectly safe at all times and dispels colds, headaches and the pains caused by indigestion and constipation so promptly and effectively that it is the one perfect family laxative which gives satis faction to all and is recommended by millions of families who have used it and who have personal knowledge of its ex cellence. Its wonderful popularity, however, ha* led unscrupulous dealers to offer imita tions which act unsatisfactorily. There fore, when buying, to get its beneficial effects, always note the full name of the Company—California Fig Syrup Co. — plainly printed on the front of every package of the genuine Syrup of Figs and Elixir of Senna. For sale by all leading druggists. Price 50 cents per bottle. It is more disgraceful to distrust than to be deceived.—Rochefoucauld. A cup of Garfield Tea before retiring will insure that all-important measure, the daily cleaning of the system. What sculpture Is to a block of marble, education is to a human soul. TO CURE A COLD IN OXE DAY rake LAXATIVH 11ROMO Quinine Tablets. JmiKgtstnrefund monejr If It fails tf. eyre. IS. W. (iKOViS'd signature isun each box. 25c. Civic Rivalry. Squire Durnitt—We're goin' to have a newspaper in Lonelyville. Uncle Welby Gosh (of Drearyhurst) —Where are ye goin' to git it printed? Resinol Ointment Is Used In Every Country of the World as the Beat Remedy for Itching Piles. I was terribly annoyed with Itching Piles for twenty-flve years. I found such great relief with the first appli cation of Reslnol Ointment that in fu ture I would not think of being with out it. An occasional application is all that is necessary. Christopher Holmes. Brookline, Mass. Reason Enough. A negro near Xenia, 0., had been arrested for chicken stealing. lie had stolen so many that his crime had be come grand larceny. He was tried and convicted, and brought in for sentence. "Have you any reason to offer why the Judgment of the court should not be passed upon you?" ho was asked. "Well, Jedge," he replied, "I cain't goto jail now, nohow. I'm buildin' a shack out yonder, an' I jus' cain't go till I git it done. You kin sholy see dat."—Philadelphia Sunday Evening Post. Give a Woman a Chance. Compulsory military service for men, urges a German female advocate of women's right, should be offset by compulsory domestic service for wom en. On the theory that life in bar rack and drill in the manual of arms have benefitted German manhood, she asks, why will not life in the kitchen and exercise in the use of pots and pans similarly raise German woman hood? If Germany ever organizes a stand ing a»my of cooks it may force all Europe to follow its lead. Culinary conscription is a severe measure, but when enforced In Germany other na tions might be expected to adopt it. There would be more reason in doing so than in following Germany's lead in militarism. There is more real need of cooks the world over than of soldiers. It is possible to get along without fighting, but not without eat ing. HONEST CONFESSION A Doctor's Talk on Food. There are no fairer set of men on earth than the doctors, and when they find they have been in error they are usually apt to make honest and manly I admission of tho fact. A en so in point is that of a practl ' one of tho good old school, who I..in Texas. His plain, unvarnished lale needs no dressing up: "I had always had an Intense prcja j dice, which I can now so® was unwar- j rentable and unreasonable, against all muchly advertised foods. Hence, I ; never read a lino cf tho many 'ads' of Grape-Nuts, nor tested the food till Just winter. "While in Corpus Christi for my 1 health, and visiting my youngest son, who has four of the ruddiest, healthi est little boys I ever saw, I ate ray first dish of Grape-Nuts food for sup per with my little grandsons. "I became exceedingly fond of it and have eaten a package of It every week sliico, and find It a delicious, re freshing and strengthening food, leav- j lug no 111 effects whatever, causing no , eructations (with which I wus for nierly much troubled), no sense of j fullness, nausea, nor distress of atom- ! uch In any way. "There is no other food that agrees with me so well, or sits as lightly or pleasantly upon my stomach as this does. "I am stronger and more active since I began tho use of Grape-Nats than I have been for 10 years, and am no longer troubled with nausea and Indigestion." Natue glveu by l'ostum Co.. Ilattln Creek, Mloh I.ook In pkKs for the famous little book, "The Hoad to Wellvllle." "Th«rt»'s a Wesson." K»«*r rrnaaUte. BWAHSOB IHEUBATta HIE COMMIT, Beat. go. ISO Lake Street. Ckle—e^ n— everybody at onco an.l makes thaiu talk back with motley II t Khl !'.O» lil \V N I $ Aim the tt Ad. Gun fTRUE \ If It'll hot waathtr, ad ■ vorttaocool thtnga,Mi ■ Merchant Wt>an U'a c»l4, t*onat warmth Yon know what po<>t>la want, whau lhay atnl Profit thoroby Band youi copy today fc>i yowa ad. In thU payor, K MA. hi W He »j