a asmon at Copyright 1928133, Harold Titus, | CHAPTER—XIV—Continued — Be He fell to the floor fighting, but his blows were weak, ineffective, A hand clutched at his throat and he tore at it with all his strength. The fingers shut down on the windpipe and he writhed under that agony, summoning all his courage, all his will to break free, to outlast that strangling pres- sure. But he could not do it. He went numb; his braln clouded. He Wy still and then after a time, sweet alr poured again into his lungs. That was all of which he was aware for a long Interval: alr, bathing his tortured chest. Alr, which had been denied him by the strangling grip of a man's hand. That thought burned away the haze which enveloped him and he started to throw himself over, to rise, to be up and fighting. But he found that he was unable to move. His hands were stretched out above his head; a harsh bond held each wrist helpless. He tried to kick and failed. His feet were locked together and held there as by a great weight. A distinct odor pervaded the room. He groaned and strained again at his bonds. Footsteps, then, came across the floor and Nicholas Brandon looked down at him in the dim light, a whisky bottle in his hand, swaying a bit on un- steady feet. . “So!” he grunted and laughed. “So you fell for it! So you followed your blessed Dawn, eh? He went off into a tantrum of crazy laughter. Ben twisted slowly against his bonds and discovered that the rope which bound him was wet. He could no more free himself without ald than he could hope to fy, “It worked!” Brandon cried. “G—4, how it worked! ‘Dawn! you yelled like a fool, standing outside there. Dawn!" , . . And then stepped into my trap, eh?” He sat heavily in a chalr. “It's all worked, even to the weather! You came alona, It's starting to snow. Nobody's nearer than the Hoot Owl and the smoke of a burning camp wouldn't be seen twenty rods a day like this” He leered. Smoke of a burning camp! Ben's racing thoughts connected that idea with the odor which filled the room. His fingers felt the strands of hemp that stretched from his wrists to the posts of bunks against the wall Surely, the rope had been soaked in kerosene. So it was Brandon's intent to leave him tied helpless, to fire the building. . . . Then his mind cen- tered on thwarting the scheme of this ruthless man gone wholly mad, . “Yeah. It worked . . . so far,” he replied and grinned. Brandon snorted In contempt. “So far, yes; and on to the end, It'll work. You're tied fast, aren't you?" '— leaning low so Ben could see the cruel lights in his eyes. “You're tled hand and foot! I'll touch the camp off. You'll roast , . . because this old camp'll burn like h—I itself! They'll find your bones here; theyll find an empty whisky bottle. That's all they'll find.” Brandon had schemed competently: no detail which would implicate him seemed to have been overlooked. Still, fear did not manifest Itself In EL liott's heast; only contempt was there for a man so merciless. Contempt snd a stout determination to stall for time. “You're smart, Brandon,” he said “I'll admit that. The plan's so good I'm surprised that you overlooked a pet” The other turned sharply. “A bet?™ he cursed derisively. “What d' you mean, a bet? “A little thing. A thing almost any- body might overlook. But it's bound to come to light if I Bont show up, and one morder charg®’s as good as an- other. I'm talking about a letter Don Stuart wrote me just before he died.” “Its’ a lie! Whatever he wrote was a lie!” Brandon's ery was shrill. “Heo was a drunken, lying bum!” “Which, even If true, wouldn't matter so much, now. Once, it would have, A few weeks ago, It might have. But not now. . . . Things have changed in the Tincup eountry; people have changed. There are dozens who'd Jump at the chance to make trouble for you, new, Brandon, and" “Lies can’t hurt me, you fool” Bran- don cried but his teeth rattled. “Plot. ting and scheming, were you, to drag that eld case up and try to turn it against me? And basing it all on the death-bed ravings of" “But McMhnus fsn't dead!” Ben eried, crowding all the conviction and triumph he could summon into his tone, playing his hunch to the utmest. “He's alive and we've located him"-lying himself, now, in an attempt to beat the truth from Brandon. “He's on his way back and what he'll have to tell, coupled with what old Don had the courage to put down In his own writ fog—"' “Stuart didn't know! He knew nothing, 1 tell you! He wasn't even here! He took Faxson's word for It and even Faxson didn't know, KH asleep In that room right there”— soisting—"and he came out while _—- onion were and" Elliott could not restrain the Impulse to laugh In a wild shout of triumph. “So you admit, as the rest of us now know, that McManus didn’t throw him- self into the river that night, eh? So you admit he still lives, do you?” “Admit nothing. . . nothing. , .. He's a murderer, I tell you. .. . . And I wasn't here , . .He's a murderer, I tell you. . . . And I wasn't here . , . wasn't here, , , ." And back to the northward three people came through the darkening forest on Elliott's trail, bending low agalonst the mounting storm. Two men were ahead, beating down a track for the girl who followed, pleading with them now and again for more speed. Ben needed time, now; he spoke: “I've a proposition, Brandon, How'd you like to trade? How'd you like to have Stuart's letter for, say, the use of my hands and feet for a minute?” Brandon come slowly close and leaned over him. “Mean that? craftily. “My affair” Even then, he could feel the bill-fold in his breeches pocket where old Don's letter reposed. “What d' you say?” Brandon's fingers plucked at his lips. “It's no good! It's a lie, but even If it weren't, it'd be no good Ia court.” Then, sharply: “But what about Me- Manus? Where's he? Where's he com- ing from? Yes, McManus! We might deal” — cautlously—“about McManus, Elliott, If you'd stop McManus I might I might , . “For the letter. And for word of McManus, I might, Elliott. I might trade your liberty for—" He checked himself with a grunt as if realizing that he had by his own words placed himself completely in Elliott's hands, “But what assurance—" Ben began, “To h—1 with you and your ques tions!" Brandon snarled, stralghten- ing. “To h—I1 with you, Elliott! I'm not afraid of lies and McManus was so drunk he never knew what happened! “They'll ind your bones,” he growled between teeth which remained clamped to still their rattling. “They'll find . . . after a while . , , your rotten bones.” From beneath the sink he dragged an oll ean and sloshed Its contents along the walls, across the floor, over Ben's body until Elliott lay in a pool of inflammable liquid. “You erossed me!” digging into a pocket. “It's over now, you fool! It's the trail Faxson took for you! Cross Nick randon? H-L , . ™ He took one step to a plle of oll drenched debris against the oilsoaked wall. He bent forward to apply his torch and stopped, as If frozen, hand extended, A shout outside; a body crashed against the door. It burst open and Tim Jeffers plunged into the room. De hind him came Martin and as Dawn slid down the steep drift to the entry the burning curl of tinder dropped to the floor and Brandon whirled. “Get him, Tim!" eried Ben him! Don't give him a chance!” With a muffled shout Martin and Jeffers flung themselves on Brandon as he charged for the doorway. He screamed. He fought frantically, but quickly they bore him down. “Take that!” Tim's volce bellowed. “'Nd that! °'Nd that!™ The sound of knuckles on flesh came with the words. « « « Curses, Inarticulate shouts, and then Dawn's frantic volce: “Ben, where are you?” The struggling ceased suddenly, with a long, gagging sound from Brandon. Tim rose, looked around the room and moved to where Elliott's prone fig ure showed indistinctly in the gloom. “Trussed up, Tim. Cut me loose. Hurry! This Is going to be a great party!” A knife blade clicked open; the ofl sonked ropes parted. Ben lurched to his feet. Dawn, running into the kitchen of the camp she knew so well, came back with a lamp, its reservoir half filled. The wick was lighted and the shadows of the room retreated. “We seen the note,” Jeffers muttered. “Dawn there, 'd come out. We sus pected you were In trouble and" “Never mind about me, now,” Ben broke In. “But you're all that matters!” Dawn sald. “Ben. . . . It was my note that decoyed you. It was an old one, writ ten to him. He'd saved IL” Elliott smiled and covered her hands with his “Never mind anything that has to do with me. I'm only an accident in this It's going to be a wonderful day, dear Dawn. This part Is tough for you He gave his head an em smiled at her In assur talking and Mac went crazy Where Is 117" Brandon cried, “Nall « vo» ii me out here and did a good job.” He looked at Dawn quickly. “I hadn't even bad time to wonder about that note. It doesn’t matter, though. You saw me tied, there; that rope's soaked with oll. The place is drenched with it. He was just touching her off when you three came In and it would have been as neat a murder as I've heard about in a coon's age!” “A le!” Brandon muttered. “Was only trying . . . trying . . . letter, ” “Have you forgotten what you ad- mitted to me, Brandon?” Ben asked sharply. “You gave It away, gave yourself away |” “You fool, you! You think you've got me cold, eh? You've nothing on me that'll amount to a snap of my thumb!" His gaze went back to Dawn, “And I've watched you shrink and cringe all jour life and I'm glad now that it's worped you and weakened you~" .“Hold your tongue, Brandon!” That was Martin's volce breaking in, thickened and shaken with con gested rage. He advanced toward Brandon slowly. He halted and did not speak for a long moment. Eyes still fast on the other [) 8 - F. “ba J Zl The Wick Was Lighted and the Shadows of the Room Retreated. he reached toward the table, groping for a pair of rusted shears which iay there. A cloud came over Brandon's eyes and he blinked, “And you'd taunt her with it! cause McManus disappeared!™ Martin sald slowly with low tensity. “Ah it made a plausible case, Brandon, . . . It, and your stories, . . ™ Then he did a strange thing. He lifted those shears in 8 quick gesture to his chin and a lock of the thick beard fell away. “And you'd make lives h—1 because you held the power. . . . And you'd write to the hiding, skulking McManus for years and tell him she was gone. + « + that she was married , . . that she hated her father's nafhe, eh?" An. other lock of balr fell, and another. His blue eyes were burning, now, and Brandon's chin trembled as a look of horror crept loto his face, “But If be was to come back, Bran. don, and swear to her with his own lips that he did not kill , , , swear so, to a girl like that . , . She'd belleve him, wouldn't she? She'd believe him, wouldn't she, and be at peace. , . . At peace. . . . Ay, at peace with her self and , . . the one she loves." He cut the last lock from the beard: ed jaw and flung away the shears. He stood erect, spreading his hands “See!” he cried. "Bee, Nick Bran don?" The man in the chalr made as If to rise. He could not. He lifted an arm as though to fend a blow, “Denny!” he choked. “Denny Me Manus, . . . You're a 4-4 , . . you'rea . . He ended In a wild seream and cow- ered back against the wall, sobbing. Beside Ben, Dawn was trembling. He put his arm about her and she sagged against him. “80 1 wouldn't come back, eh?" the man they had known as Martin ered and whirled to face her. “I came, Dawn! I've come back to tell you that I'm not afraid. . heart's clean, . . ” Be Nick told me I did and 1 lost for an hour and then it was + Ive hidden for years he's written me to read, little Dawn. But I couldnt ing youl! ten minutes ago! of evidence”—tugging at the bill-fold in his pocket—"but I've a good guess folded envelope from the purse. “I've fool I didn't read it. , . , “Listen i” aloud. son. Brandon did. Raccoon’s Feet Are Like Human Foot; Likes Fight The raccoon comes from a winter stir. And he is as thin and “hungry as Crayfish, frogs, fish, snakes, small Fruit, corn, wild birds, and the farmer's poultry follow in sea- eating it, Coonskin coats are popular, and so the raccoon is much hunted for his He Is clever In his ways, and quite Woe betide the dog that expects to master him without a flerce strug- gle! The two black eves of Brother Coon are proof enough that he enjoys a The raccoon's feet are humanlike, He can climb like a monkey, and he can grasp a roasting ear with the best of us.~~Indianapolis News. ship when Faxson tried to stop it. Brandon shot Faxson and when Me Brandon came to me before Ram dled and told me McManus had lit out and that if I did not swear that Fax- son sald McManus ghot at him he from the company. This Is God's truth. I was afraid to do anything else. I not tell this years before” Jrandon’s head was twitching. “Lie,” he gasped. * . . drunken bum, . . * “No lle, Brandon. It's truth!” sald without heat, quite soberly. Tim Jeffers turned to McManus smiling gently, and as he moved Bran- don sprang forward. With a wild cry he gained the doorway, snatched it open and plunged outside “Get him!” Tim erled and McManus followed, leaping out into the gloom of late afternoon “Don't leave me alone! Ben It was this ery of Dawn's which ar- rested Ben on the threshold turned to see her swaying dizzily. “Hold me! Hold me close, , . . Ah, Ben, dear !™ Her arms clasped his neck and she began to cry softly. “Easy I" be sald unsteadily. now | over !™ Ben Not here, “Easy, Hypnotism, Once Ignored, Later Officially O. K'd It is Interesting to speculate on what might have happened If the Invention of chloroform had been delayed by an- other twenty years or so, observes Aldous Huxley in Forum and Century Magazine, There can be little doubt that doctors would have carried out in- tensive research into the possibilities of hypnosis; and a rapid and infalll- ble technique of psychological anes thesia would probably have been devel- In the process of perfecting this tech- nique much valuable Information about to the body would certainly have been made avallable—information which, for lack of sufficlent practical motive for research, either was not unearthed till much later or still remains to be dis covered, fifty-one years after Brald had his classical work on the subject, that the British mitted its use, America Once Had Queen; Throne Room Now Empty In the Capitol building at Honolulu, where the Hawalian legislature meets, is to be found the only throne room un- der the American flag. The turone stands In majestic emptiness in a room where it suggests the tragic story of a great queen who was forced to va- cate it four decades ago. The queen was Lilluokalani, who abdicated a few years before the United States annexed Hawall In 1808, She was the only queen ever to become a citizen of the United States. Stubbornly resisting the overthrow of her ‘monarchy, Liliuckalanl yielded only after she had been taken prisoner end a provisional government, under Sanford B. Dole, as president, had been set up. The queen protested to Pres. ident Cleveland that United States troops had been landed to ald the reve olution, and she appeaied to him to restore her to her throne, Unsuccess- ful, she finally abdicated and, ex-queen, though she was, devoted the rest of her life to performing works that endeared her to her people. She composed the touching Hawallan song “Aloha Oe,” heard by everyone who knows the name of Hawaill, She wrote poems, She dedicated herself to promoting education, and before she died she established a trust the income from which was to be used to found and maintain orphanages, The Black and Tan Terrier Outside of their short, glossy coat, the most distinctive thing about the black and tan terrier is its markings, the tanned muzzle with the jet black nasal bone: the tan spot on each cheek and over each eye and hair in. gide the ears the same color; the fore legs tanned to the knees with black pencil marks on each toe, writes | Ruth Mansfield, in the Washington Post. The average welght is around seven pounds. The dog bas a mod- erately short body, curving upward at the loins: ribs well sprung, back slightly arched at the loins and fall ing again at the joining of the tall to the same height as the shoulders; straight legs: feet more inclined to be cat than hare-footed ; moderate length tall. The head is long, flat, narrow, { level and wedge-shaped, with small, sparkling and dark eyes, oblong In shape. The coat is close, smooth, into the darkness came for many min. utes and then old Tim Jeffers stamped grimly Into the room speak as the two looked Inguiringly at him, been known as John Martin, . , . came slowly, this heavily. He man, breathing as he advanced toward Dawn, arms outstretched hungrily. “The Mad Woman has him. « « Here It start. ed. . . . Into that river 1 was sup posed to have gone, in a confession of murder. . « There he went tonight. c++ Wenawit, TimandL . .. We walched him swept under the ice, . , » . - * » * - assembled in the McManus home. Tim Jeffers, Able, Doctor Sweet, Denny Me- the kitchen. for Denny McManus, the tragic facts with which they had been concerned took toll. Little was sald and when Aunt Em appeared, bearing a tray laden with glasses and a bottle, she walked Into a hushed silence, “Fiddiesticks, what folks you are!" she exploded. “Sittin' here like It was a funeral instead of about the happiest time this house has seen In a coon's age! She passed the glasses and no one spoke. Bhe took the last herself and looked around the circle of faces In disgust. “Has the cat got all your tongues?” she demanded and Able chuckled and old Tim Jeffers smiled, Still, no one spoke until after old Tim had sald his say. He rose to his feet, a glant of a man In that low. cellinged room. He eyed the clear wine in his glass and then looked about, lifting It in a little gesture of salute. “Well,” he sald , . . “Happy {THE END] Appeal to Honor 0} Ie: Hl 225s in fii in Eg 1 i : 3 1 g §:8 £2fiad I $2 i i i = 3 zs Hi ... and Good to Eat, too By Louise Brown No longer does the family ex- claim, “I say it's spinach!” no mat ter what vegetable you serve. On the contrary, there's a whispering campaign going on in favor of spinach—and all other vegetables. Perhaps the secret of their sud- den popularity is that we are learning to cook them properly. We no longer cook them practical iy to a pulp in our zeal to get them done. A great deal of testing has been done in home economics kitchens and laboratories in recent years to determine the best method of cook- ing vegetables — a method that would retain all the valuable min- eral salts and vitamins and bring them to the table colorful and at tractive looking, The so-called “waterless” method is generally approved by home economists, MODERN "WATERLESS" COOKERY Vegetables will look good and iF : i small amount of water, cover, and put the pan on the unit. Then we turn the switch to High until steam shows around the lid, then to Low, and finally to Off for the last ten minutes or so of the cook- ing period, finishing the cooking on the heat stored In the food and the unit. A good many women are finding that with small quantities they can eliminate the second step entirely and turn the switch to Off as soon as the steaming has start. ed, so that practically the whole cooking process is done on stored heat. A little experience will soon determine just when this can be done, Beets cooked this way keep their rich, ruby coloring and have a do licious flavor. NUTRITIOUS ELEMENTS RETAINED Minerals, which are usually lost by boiling vegetables in a large amount of water, are preserved by the steaming process. They come to the table with all their original garden color and flavor and are a delight to the eyes and the palate, No strong odors are wafted through the house, either, to an. nounce what the Smith's are hav- ing for dinner when the vege tables are steamed in a covered container, VEGETABLE PLATES A vegetable plate can be a work of art— as colorful as a modern canvas. Try to get an interesting variety of color, flavor and texture, Avoid serving several vegetables turnips, ber you have a whole gardenful of color. Here are some suggestions: VEGETABLE PLATES No. 1 h Harvard Beets Buttered Limes
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers