Copyright by IRVING BACHELLER Poor Richard CHAPTER XXVi-=Continued. ee pm Those “indications” were the letters of one John Anderson, who described himself as a prominent officer in the American army. The letters were writ- ten to Sir Henry Clinton. They asked for a command In the British army and hinted at the advantage to be de- rived from facts, of prime importance, In the writer's possession, Margaret and her mother sailed with Sir Roger Waite and his regiments on the tenth of March and arrived In New York on the twenty-sixth of April The month of May, 1780, gave Wash- ington about the worst pinch In his career. It was the pinch of hunger. Supplies had not arrived, Famine had entered the camp and begun to threat- en its life. Soldiers can get along without pay but they must have food, Mutiny broke out among the recruits. In the midsf of this trouble, Lafay- ette, the handsome French marquis, then twenty-three years old, arrived on his white horse, after a winter in Paris, bringing word that a fleet and army from France were heading across the sea. This news revived the droop- | Ing spirit of the army. Soon boats | began to arrive from down the river | with food from tke east. The crisis passed. In the North a quiet summer | followed. The French fleet with six | thousand men under Rochambeau ar- | rived at Newport, July tenth, and | were Immediately blockaded by the British as was a like expedition fitting out at Brest. Washington could only hold to his plan of prudent waiting. On a clear, warm day, late In July | 1780. a handsome coach drawn by four | horses crossed King's Ferry and tolled | up the Highland road. It carried Ben- | edict Arnold and his wife and their | baggage. Jack and Solomon passed | and recognized them, “What does that mean, I wonder?” Jack queried. “Dun know,” Solomon answered. “I'm scared about it,” sald the young- | er scout. “YI am «frald that this] money seeker has the confidence of | Washington. He has been a good | fighting man. hat goes a long way with the chief.” i Colonel Irons stopped his horse. “I am of half a mind to go back,” he de- | clared. “Why 7" “1 didn't tell the general hudf that | Reed sald to me. It was so bitter and yet I believe It was true. I ought to have told hin Perhaps I ought now to go and tell him.” “There's time ‘nough,” sald Solomon. “Wait till we git back. Sometimes I've thought the chief needed it's allus turned out that one that needed It.” The two horsemen rode on In si lence. It was the middle of the after | noon that memorable July day. They were bound for the neutral tem | ritory between the American and Brit. Ish lines, infested by “cowboys” from the South and “skinners™ from the North who were ralding the farms of the and driving away thelr | cattle sold the opposing The two scouts were sent to | learn the facts and report upon them. | They parted at a crossroad. It was near sundown when at a beautiful | brook, bordered with spearmint and | wild iris; Jack watered and fed his | horse and sat down to eat his lunch- eon. He was thinking of Arnold and the new danger when he discovered that a man stood near him, The young scout had falled to hear his approach —a circumstance In no way remark- able since the road was little traveled and covered with moss and creeping herbage. He thought not of this, how- ever, but only of the face and form of 1a man of middle age. The young man wrote In a letter: “It was a singularly handsome face, smuoth-shaven and well-shaped with large, da eyes and a skin very clean nnd perfect—I had almost sald It was transparent. Add to all this a look of friendliness and masterful dignity and you will understand why I rose to my feet and took off my hat. His stature was above my own, his form erect. 1 remember nothing about his clothes save that they were dark in color and seemed to be new and ad rirably fitted. “You are John Irons, Jr, and 1 am Henry Thornhill, said he. ‘I saw you at Kinderhook where I used to live. I liked you then and, since the war began, 1 have known of your ad veniures. I saw you passing a little way back and I followed for I have something to say to you. “1 shall be glad to hear of It, was my answer. “wewashington cannot be overcome by bis enemies unless he Is betrayed by his friends. Arnold has been put in’ command at West Point, He has planned the betrayal of the army. “Do you know that? I asked. “As well as I know light and dark. ness.’ | “‘Have you told Washington “No. As yet I have had no oppor: tunity. I am telling him, now, through pou. In his friendships he Is a sin. gularly stubborn man, The wiles of an efiemy are as an open book to him, but /those of a friend he is not able to gnmprehend, ‘He will discredit or advice but | I was the of settlers to be to arn ouly half believe any warping that you or I may give him. But it is for you and Solomon to warn him and be not decelved.' “1 shall turn about and ride back to camp,’ I sald. ““There 's no need of haste,’ he answered, ‘Arnold does not assume command until the third of August.’ “He shaded xls eyes and looked to. ward the west where the sun was set- ting and the low-lying clouds were like rose-colored islands in a golden sea, and added 2s he hurried away down the road to the south: “It is a beautiful world. “*Too good for fighting men’ I an- gswered as I sat down to finish my luncheon for I was still hungry. “While I ate, the tormenting thought came to me that I had neglected to ask for the source of his Information or for his address. It was a curious oversight due to his masterly manner and that sense of the guarded tongue | which an ordinary mortal {s apt to feel in the presence of a great personality. I had been, In a way, seif-bridied and cautious in my speech, as I have been wont to be in the presence of Wash- himself, 1 looked down the road ahead. The stranger had rounded | a bend and was now hidden by the I hurried through my repast, | bridled my horse and set off at a gaol | lop expecting to overtake him, but to my astonishment he had left the road. | I did not see him again, hut his words were ever with me In the weeks that followed. “I reached the Corlles farm, far down dawn was with | Corlles and his neighbors in a rough | fight with 4 band of cattle thieves, | in the course of which three men and | a boy were seriously disabled by my | pistols. We had salted a herd and] in the midst of | it and so were able lo shoot from good Solo- | mon and [I spent four days in the neu- | tral territory. When we left it 8 doz- | en cattle thieves were In need of re pair and three had meved to parts un- known, Save In the southern limit, | and a little before “I had often thought of Nancy, the blaze-faced mare, that 1 had gut from Governor Reed and traded to Mr, | was again reminded of | come from Tarrytown Being near | that place I rode on to Paulding's farm | and spent a night in his house. [ found Nancy In good flesh and spirits, She seemed to know and lke the touch of Paulding was reduced In circum. Having been a patriot and i My own horse was worn | to hoot which he I came back up| with the handsome. igh-headed mare under my saddle. | The next aight I stopped with one | Reuben Smith near the northern limit | territory below Stony | Point. Smith had prospered by sell- | ing supplies to the patriot army. 1 had heard that he was a Tory and know him 1 found him a rugged, jovial, long-haired nan of middie age, with a ready ringing laugh. His jokes were spokeg In a low tone and followed by quick, ster. torous breathing and roars and ges tures of appreciation. “He looked my mare over carefully before he led her to the stable, “Next morning as he stood by her head, he asked if 1 would sell her. “You counidn't afford to own that mare,’ I sald, “I had touched his vanity. In fact 1 did not realize how much he had made by his overcharging. He was better nble to own her than I and that he proposed to show me, “He offered for her another horse and a sum which caused me to take account of my situation. The money would be a help to me. However, | shook my head. He increased bis of- fer, “‘What do you want of her? I asked, “I've always wanted to own a hoss like that he answeren, “1 intended to keep the mare,” sald I. "But if you will treat her well and give her a good home I shall let you have her.’ “*A man who Hkes a good joke will never drive a spavined hoss' he an- swered merrily, “So It happened that the mare Naney fell into the hands of Reubea Smith.” a sum promptly accepted. the north road —— CHAPTER XXVII Love and Treason, When Jack and Solomon returned to headquarters, Arnold and his wife were settled In a comfortable house overlooking the river, Colonel Irons made his report, The commander In chief complimented him and Invited camp In his company. They mounted their horses and rode away together, “1 lenrn that General Arnold Is to be In command here Jack remarked soon after the ride began, “I have not yet announced my in. tention,” sald Washington. “Who told yout” “A man Thornhill.” “I do not know him but he Is curl ously well informed, Arnold Is an able officer, We have not many like him. He Is needed here for I have to go on a long trip to eastern Connecticut to ‘confer with Rochambeau., In the event of some unforeseen crisis Ar. nold would know what to do” Then Jack spoke out: “General, 1 ought to have reported to you the ex- act words of Governor Reed. They were severe, perhaps, eveu, unjust, | them to any one, of the name of Henry full content and judge of them In your own way. The governor insists that Arnold Is bad at heart-—that he would sell his master for thirty pleces of sil. ver." Washington made no reply, for a moment, and then his words seemed to have no necessary relation to those of Jack Lrons. “General Arnold has been badly cut up in many battles,” sald he. “I wish him to be relieved of all trying detalls You are an able and prudent man, | shall make his chief aide with the rank of brigadier general. He needs rest and will concern himself little with the dally routine. In my absence, you will the superinten- den: of the camp, and subject to or ders I shall leave with you. Colonel Binkus will be your helper. 1 hope that you may able to keep your self on friendly terms with the gen eral” Jack reported to the commander in chief the warning of Thornhill, but the former made light of It. “The alr is full of evil gossip.” he “You may hear it of me” When they rode up to headquarters Arnold was there. To Jack's surprise the major general greeted him with friendly words, saying: you be be duties Washington his new rode with Irons assumed major general September, the alter set out trip to Connecticut, Solomon rode with the party for two days and then re turned. Thereafter Ammold left work of his office his time to the enjoyment of the com pany of his and a leisure that suffered little interruption. For him, grim-visaged war had smoothed his wrinkled front, wife The day Mrs Jack dinner invited to for more friendly rel Mrs. Arnold was a handsome, viva cious, blonde young woman of thirty The officer speaks lively talk snd winning smiles and ladies in France “What a contrast to the he added Soon after cuinp bave heard of your romance, and Mrs. Hare and their young daugh ter spent a week If our home In Phil udelphia on their first trip to the col onies. Later Mrs. Hare wrote to my mother of thelr terrible adventure In the great north bush and spoke of Mar garet's attachment for the handsome boy who had helped to rescue them, so 1 have some right to my Interest In you, I happen to know & detall Iv your story which may be new to you Miss Hare is now with her father in New York" “In New York!" “Oddso! In New York! We heard in Philadelphia that she and her moth er had sailed with Sir Roger Walte in March. How jolly It would be If the general and 1 could bring rou togeth er and have a wedding at headquar ters !™ ' “1 could think of no greater happl ness save that of seeing the end of the war” Jack answered, “The war! That Is a littie matter I want to see a proper end to this love story." She laughed and ran to the spinnet and sang “Shepherds, I Have Lost My Love.” (TO BE CONTINUED.) Insects Lead All It Is computed that there are five times as many different kinds of In sects as there are species of all other living things put together. Seventy sears age the number of species of insects preserved in collections was about 170,000. Today It is estimated that there are 750,000 sorts, and that witheut counting the parasitic crea tures. In Eurepe alone there are 850,000 species. Most Insects live on trees or plants. There are known to be 400 sorts which make their home in oak trees, and about 200 In the Sh REE a ae Ee JB BE J pine. Of heetles alone the varieties exeeed 100.000, vee ® ' = TR perm poi) NC Aral SIN AL LEARNS ABOUT WITCHES BE had not been what you would eall a good boy all day. He had not been very ‘bad, but he had hidden a book under his pillow which his mother told him not to read at night, and "he had read some of the stories about the bad witches that car. ried off folks and the goblins that poked bad children with pointed fingers and sharp-toed shoes, Benji knew he was safe In his bed, but when ae snuggled down under the clothes somehow the floor sounded Just as If an old witch was tip toeing around looking for some one to carry off on her broomstick. Benj] opendll one eye, the creak- ing was so close to his bed, and he thought his little heart stood still— only just for a part of a though, for the old woman smiled “How Would You Like to Visit Man in the Moon?" so Kindly that he wasn't frightened a bit, dear?” she asked bright.” “lI think I would, madam,” Benj! stammered, “If I could get back again in the morning, you know.” “The moon is very md witches,” sald the old woman. "Mj dear, | am a witch, and I have come to take you riding and show you that there are good witches as well as bad. You know there are bad boys “Yes'm.,” replied Beni vas not very good today. I" “Tut, tut,” sald the old witch. “Boys will be boys. 1 know you are not a bad boy. Come along, now; hop on; we must be off.” Benji forgot he was clgthes, and out of the “How would you a visit to the old man asked the witch. “He callers.” in his night window like to pay likes to have SE05000044400400004400004 A LINE O’ CHEER y » , : By John Kendrick Bangs. ; bo 4009949000400 0000 THE BETTER PLEA EE ¥ 1 shali pray for rain, And you for weather fair, One of us prays in vain, And hence 1t is my prayer That whatsoe'er the day In weather chance to be, Or dry or wet, it may Be pleasing unto me. «© by McClure Newspaper Syndicates. YYSYVYITeTeYYRTYYTYY r . b 3 2 » . be 3 > X : bh > fes00000000000000000000004 Ti SOR ml IY my Mr. Moonman smiled very broadly when he saw them. “One of those ice cream and cake lovers you have tonight, I see,” he sald, “Well, step right around behind that cloud and let him help himself. It won't hurt him a mite” The witch flew behind the cloud and Benji saw banks ard banks of Ice cream with hundreds of spoons sticking in it, “Here 18 your spoon. sald the witch, . mm MAN . [i WW a slice of eanke.” cake. “Don’t drop It,” to lift the blg plece she had cut cake when a cloud came float. ing along and hit the hard that she dropped it, and “Bang Benji heard it drop. So he was or ond later he sat up in bed looking around the room with the moonlight streaming in the window, The curtain was swinging overturned chair lay on the floor, but the witch was nowhere about, nor was that big slice of cnke, Just then Benil's mother opened the She picked up the chair, “Did it scare you?’ she asked as she put in. “The wind is blowing and I guess I had better close this window partly.” “No; let It stay open,” sald Benji sleeplly. Maybe she'll come back and I'll get that plece of cake she RRR HR NN% Percy Marmont HWW Ue He HHH RRHRR RHR BHR HD Born in London and egucated at St Anne's, Redhill in Surrey, England; six feet tall, light-brown hair, blue | eyes and falr complexion, and tipping the beam at 155 pounds, Percy Mar. mont’s Anglo-8axon heritage has stood him in good stead on the screen. He | was well fitted for his screen work | before he left the stage. He is fond of horseback riding end numerous other sports. “Who'll come back?’ mother, leaning over him. you have been dreaming.” Benji did not answer. He didn't know whether he had been dream- ing or not. But one thing he did know, and that was that witches are good and sometimes take boys on nice rides | and never harm them, (@. 1324. McClure Newspaper Syndicate ) asked his “l guess HERE was no doubt that young ested in Lillie Wedgewood. They had from the first. Then of course their friends threw them on every occasion in each other's way, But as yet Worth- ington had not seen Lillie In her own home. He called to find out, and then an invitation to the Wedge to dinner—a family affair it turned out to be. Beside Mrs, seemed to sini icance. Indeed, Worth tnken up mother, Lillle insignif- course, her; so with her Wedgewood, into curious for a whole ton almost forgot was his attention For the lady at the head of fos 0v Ng hospltgble. Mr. Worthington, won't you have some duck?’ she began ordinarily epouglh, as he was about ‘half way through his first helping. “Thank you, no, Mrs. Wedgewood,” said the young man unsuspectingly. “Oh, you must take this plece of *renst-—1've been saving It for you," came the second attack. Again he refused, and again she re Encournged by her success, she turned her attention to apple sance. “Now some apple sauce, Mr. Worth- Br yuDRED MARSHALL EMILY ROM the Latin gens Aemilius is derived the quaint simplicity of Emily-—or so It is believed Emily's origin is a trifle perplexing since some hold that It 1s from the mythical Amal of the Gothic, but the latter contentior. is not definite. Several ob- scure saints bore the name of Aemilins or Aemilianus. Emiljl was much used in Russia as a masculine name, In Spain a hermit—8t. Aemilianus— was known as St. Milhan, and thence the name sptead to Italy, where It be came Emilie. Due to Rousseaun’s edo- cational work, Emile became popular in France. The feminine form had seen forgotten when Boceacclo wrote his “Teseide” and called the heroine Emilia. It was at once translated, or mitated In all languages. The Meu. tons called her Amalie and Amalle of Mansfield and Amalie of Wurtemburg sere among the famous women who bore the name. The daughter of George II brought t to England and was called Princess Qmily. Straightway it became preva- ent in Europe, where it was often, but erroneously, confused with Ame- ‘ia, Amy and Emma, which have far {ifferent origin, Strange to say, no well-known saint was named Emily, and even De la Roche's beautiful de sign of the gueenly Sainte Amelle was mtended ar a compliment to the queen sf Louls Philippe, an Amalle which came through Naples from Austria and does not belong to Bmily at all. The French have called the name Emilie 104 both the English and Italians have w Emilia. : verses to the lovely and unfortunate Lady Emilia Imprisoned in the convent of St. Anne, Pisa: i never thought before my death to see Youth's vision thus made perfect ‘Emily. 1 love thee; though the world by ne thin name Will hide that love from Its unvalued shame, Would we two had me mother, Or, that the name another Could be a sister's thee, Blending two beams In one eternity! Emily's stone is the onyx, but curi- ously enough it is not always a lucky gem and should be worn with crre, gince it cools the ardor of love, pro. vokes discord and separates lovers. Yet to dream of onyx signifies a happy marriage. Friday is Emily's lucky day and 6 her lucky number. (© by Wheeler Syndicate.) been twins of the my heart leant to bond for her and | ington—I made this myself—I'm a { great cook, you know. Oh, I'm not | going to let you refuse—Iit goes with duck as a matter of course. That's | right—just a little more.” Twice had he been routed, swore that his Amazonian not over-urge Lim to a other dish. “Lillie, sweet but he hostess should : : i 163 single give Mr. potato. Worthington You're not attention his plate for any more? take no’ for an the conversation through whole meal If Worthington steered plays or politics, wns brought back peremptorily to pickles: and, as they got up from the table, he felt as If he had at hard-fought After { saw each other away from her home, and his old Impression of charm and | beauty came back to him. But he al- ways managed to dodge Mrs. Wedge wood’s rather pressing invitations the Wedgewood Louse. Then Lillie i told him-——things had progressed as far as that—that her mother was be ginning to think strangely of his con- tinual regrets. With a sigh he ae | cepted for Sunday lunch. After sticking out only round of chicken he erumbilea. that he decided to take that was offered. Three helpings to croquettes, four times to preserve, salad twice, ice cream and coffee over again was the result. Mrs | wood was delighted-—she felt that she | had done well by Lillie. And when | young Worthington abruptly trans. | ferred his attentions to a total stran- | ger, she never suspected that her hab- it of urging hospitality had anything whatever to do with IL | HAVE YOU THIS HABIT? : (© by Metropolitan Newspaper Service.) RR RRR CThe Why of Superstitions | % By H IRVING KING & AAA AMAA NN DROPPING BREAD some paying any He Nonsense | to doesn’t care Just { don't So the answer.” went to he been benten tennis. a game of that, he and Lillie once more 10 for ane After everv.bing Wedge CER & WR i ow YOU drop bread on the floor pick it up immediately ; to leave it there would expose you to very great trovble in the near future, This superstition is but one of many in which lingers the idea of the anclents with regard to the existence of a “Spirit of the Corn.” This corn spirit was to them something to be propitinted, encour. aged, implored-—its beneficence or its piggardliness In the harvests meant for them life—or death. Volumes have been written concerning this anclent worship of the Spirit of the Corn--more correctly the Spirit of the Graln—and of all edible farm products, Many of the ceremonies connected with It exist today In Europe In a form but little modified from the ancient ritual. And In the worship the growing 3 sheaves but also the bread into which the “corn” was made had its part, 80 when bread Is dropped on the floor to let it lle there would be an insult to the “corn” spirit. There fore pick it up at ofice. @ by MeClure Newspaper Syndicate)
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