ng ANDS Sara Ware BASSETT Copyright by The Penn Pub, Co WNU Service SYNOPSIS The youthful and comely “Widder” Marcia Howe has as her guest her late husband's niece, Sylvia Hayden. A stranger, exhausted, finds his way to Marcia's home. Secretly, he asks her to hide a package containing jewelry. She does so. Elisha Winslow, town sheriff, brings news of a jewel robbery nearby. The stranger gives his name as Stanley Heath Sylvia discovers the jewels, and naturally believes Heath is a robber, but, for Marcia's sake, de- cides to say nothing. Marcia feels she has altogether too deep an interest In her guest, but Is powerléss to over- come it, Heath wires “Mrs. 8. C. Heath" New York, saying he is safe. He also orders a man named Currier to come at once. Sylvia, in her room, bedecks herself with the jewels. At Marcia's approach she hides them there. Heath asks Marcia to bring them to him. They are gone! He makes light of the loss. Sylvia restores the jewels to their original hiding place. Elisha Winslow discovers them and has no doubt they are the stolen gems, and Heath is a thief. Leaving the jewels, he makes plans for arresting Heath. Currier arrives. Marcia overhears Heath describe how he acquired the gems, and is forced to believe him guilty of theft. At Heath's suggestion, Currier investigates the hiding place— and finds the gems! He returns to New York with them, but his references to “Mrs. Heath” have convinced Marcia her tender dream has been a foolish one. Elisha and Eleazer come to arrest Heath. Marcia Is indignant, and un- wittingly reveals to Sylvia the secret of her love. The jewels, of course, are not to be found. CHAPTER VIII—Continued I, | “Oh, for heaven's sake don't do that,” Elisha pleaded. “Artie Nickerson would be ragin’ mad did he find I'd told you. If you must know what the message was, I can repeat It near 'nough, I reckon. It ran somethin’ like this: “ ‘Safe on Cape with my lady. Shall return with her later.” “And that was all?” inquired Marcia calmly. “All! Ain't that enough?” Elisha de- manded. As she vouchsafed no reply he pres ently continued: “l don’t want you should think I told you this, Marcia, with any un friendly motive. It's only that those of us who've seen you marry one worthless villain don't want you shodld marry another, Jason was a low down cuss. You know that wells LL” The woman raised her hand to check him. “I'm aware "tain't pleasant to hear me say so out foud, but it's God's truth.” “Marcia!” Sylvia burst out “Hush, dear. We'll talk of this later. Elisha, I think I must ask you and Eleazer to go now.” “You ain't goin’ to tell me where the Jewels are?” “1 don't know where they are™ *Nor nothin’ 'bout—'bout the tele gram.” “Nothing except to thank you for your kind Intentions and say you quoted it-quite correctly. I sent it for Mr. Heath myself. ‘My Lady,’ as you have apparently forgotten, is the pame of Mr. Heath's boat” “My land! So "tis" faltered Elisha. ‘Im almighty sorry, Marcia—I ask your pardon” “It's all right. Just leave us now, please.” The door banged behind the discom- fited officials. CHAPTER IX The torrent of words Sylvia had un- til now held In check broke from her: “Was it true, Marcia—what they said about Uncle Jason I mean? Was it true?” “Fm afrald so, dear.” “But you never told me; and you never told Mother, either. Of course I see why. You didn't want her to know because it would have broken her heart. 1 hate him! [I hate him for making you unbappy and spoiling your life!” “Hush child. Jason has not spofled my life,” contradicted Marcia with a grave, sad smile, “But he has scarred It—dashed to pieces all the dreams you started out with—~those beautiful dreams a girl has when she Is young. I know you had such fancies once, for you are the sort who would. And Jason came and trampled on them" “He made me see life as It was. Per. haps it was better I should.” “Was Jason as bad as they sald, Marcia? Ah, you don't have to an swer. There Is no need for you to try to reconclie your desife to spare me spare him—with the truth. He was as bad—probably much worse. Dear, dear Marcia.” Impulsively Sylvia bent her lips to the hands so tightly clasped in hers. “I cannot imagine” she rushed on, ‘why, when one of my fam. fly had made you as wretched as he did, you should have wanted another in the house. Had I suffered so I should never have wished to lay eyes on any more Howes as long as | Hved” : “I have tried not only to forgive but to forget. 1 have closed the door on the past and begun a new life.” “And now into it has come this Stan. ley Heath” the girl sald. For the fraction of a second Mar- ela did not reply; then almost in- audibly she murmured: “Yes.” Sylvia slipped one of her strong young arms about the bowed shoul ders. “It just seems as If I could not bear It,” she burst out passionately. “Slivia, look at me. Tell me the truth. Do you, too, love Stanley Heath? Was that the reason you fought against Elisha's finding the Jewels? Tell me. I must know.” “No,” she answered without hesita- tion. “At first he did fascinate me. I changed my mind, though, later on, Not because on acquaintance he be- came less charming. It wasn't that, If anything, he became more so. I Just—changed my mind. As for the Jewels, 1 could not bear to let that little runt of a sheriff win out. You see, I thought the gems were there un- der the brick and that when you urged him to search, you did not know It. “l had known all along they were in the house, for I stumbled upon them by accident one day when I was here alone; but I had no idea you had. I truly believed Mr. Heath had hidden them beneath the hearth, and I was determined Elisha should not find them.” “You think Mr. Heath took the Jewels? asked Marcela, slowly. “Certainly I do. Don't yout" “No.” “But, Marcia, plain it all 1s? can't you see how I know it Is terrible for you, dear. It almost breaks my heart. It Is an awful thing to believe of anybody-—harder still of a person one loves. Nevertheless, we must face the facts. People do not carry such things about with them-—especially men. He came by them in no honest way, you may be sure of that He Is guilty, Marcia—guilty.” “1 do not belleve It," was the stub born protest, “I realize, dear, it is hard for you to own It,” soothed Sylvia. “We hate to admit the faults of those we—we— care for. Still, nothing is to be gained by remaining blind to them. Perhaps Mr. Heath was horribly tempted to commit this sin. We do not know. We are not his judges. The thing for us to do is to help him out of the mess he is in. Ald him to escape” “Believing him gullty-—you would do that?” “Surely I would” “You mean you would help him to evade the law? The punishment such wrongdoing merits?” “Yes. To give him a sporting chance, the start of those who are after him. You love Stanley Heath. Don’t you want to see him go free?” “Not If he Is guilty.” “Well, nobody is going to round up Mr. Heath If I can prevent it." assert. ed Sylvia, throwing back her head. “If you won't help kim get away, I will He must go In the boat—now-—to- day.” “The boat has gone. Mr. Currier ar- rived this morning after you had gone and took the boat back to New York with Mm." “And the jewels?” “Yes, the jewels, too.” “Humph! So that's where they are |" “Yea” “Pretty cute of him to make so neat a get-away! What sort of man was he? A gentleman, like Mr. Heath?" The older woman colored. “Well, no. At least he—he—, Oh, he was polite and had a nice manner -f quiet volce-" “But he was different from Mr. Heath—an inferior—one who took or- ders,” interrupted Sylvia. "In other words, he is the hands and Mr. Heath the brains of the team.” “How can you, Sylvia? “Because 1 must Marcia—because we must both look this affair In the face. Confess the circumstances are suspicious.” “They seem to be,” she owned with reiuctance, “Have you considered them?" S8yl- via inquired. Marcia drew her hand across her forehead. “J~l-~yes. I have thought them over, I don't understand them at all Nevertheless, I do not belleve Stanley Heath is gullty,” was the proud retort “You are making a great mistake, if you will pardon me for saying so” Sylvia responded gently. “You are de liberately closing your eyes and mind to facts that isder are bound to cause you bitter unhappiness. Let alone the man's guilt. He has a wife. You seem to forget that. As Elisha Winslow re- marked, you have already been miser able once. Why be so a second time? Help Stanley Heath to get out of Wik ton and forget him." “lI cannot do either of those things. In the first place, I have given my word to hand Mr. Heath over to the authorities. As for forgetting him why ask the impoasible?” Sylvia's patience gave way. “Go your own way then,” she snapped. “Go your own way and If by and by you regret it-—as you surely will—de not blame me. Don't blame me, either, if I do not agree with you. Stanley Heath shall never remain here and be betrayed to the law. Stick to your grim old puritanism if you must. I'll help him get away.” She started toward the stairway. “Sylvia, come back here!” Marcia cried, “I shall not'come back.” Marcia rushed after her, but It was too late. Sylvia was gone. » * * » . . Stanley Heath was lying with ex- pectant face turned toward the door when Sylvia entered. “What's the rumpus?” he demanded, “l guess you know, There is no use THE CENTRE mincing matters or beating about the | bush. The Jewels have gone and you | must go, too.” The man looked dumfounded. “Don't misunderstand me, please,” Sylvia rushed on. “I'm not blaming you—nor judging you. I don't know | why you took them. You may have | been tempted beyond your strength That Is none of my business.” “You belleve I stole them?” . “Certainly I do.” “Suppose I didn't?” | “I expected you'd say that,” was the calm retort, you prefer, I don't mind. What I want to do Is to help you to get away.” “Even if I am gullty.” “Yes. I just can’t bear to have that mean little sheriff who's after you catch you" “What's that?” “That wretched Elisha Winslow who came here this morning with Bleaser Crocker tagging at his heels. In some way they had found out about the Jewels and where you had hidden them. They wanted to come upstairs and arrest you post haste; but Mar- cla wouldn't allow 1t.” “Marcia heard the story, too?” “Of course.” “Poor Marcia!® “You may well say poor Marcela” Sylvia echoed sarcastically. “You have made her most unhappy. Oh, Mr, Heath, Marcia has not had the sort of life that I told you she had. She has been wretched—miserable. Go away before you heap more suffering upon her. I'll help you get out of town, I am sure we can devise a plan” “Walt just a moment. What does Marcia say? I think I'd better talk with her first.” “Don’t! It will only be a waste of “The Jewels Mave Gone and You Must Go, Too" time. Marcia Is hard, mérelless. Her conscience drives her to extremes. Even should you get her opinion, you would not follow It. But I'll send ber to you~if I must. But remember, 1 warned you." - “1 shall not soon forget that, Sylvia, nor the splendid loyalty you've shown today. 1 shall always remember It Whatever happens, please realize that I am grateful” Heath sald earnestly. “Ran along now, and fetch Marcia” It was some moments before Marcia answered the summons and when at last she came, it was with downcast eyes and evident reluctance, “Tell me, please, exactly what hap. pened down stalrs™ Heath smiled, She related the Incident tersely; without comment. Stanley Heath, scrutinizing her with keen, appraising eyes, could not but note the pallor of her cheeks the un- steadiness of her lips, the nervous clasping and unclasping of her hands. “And that is all?” he inquired when convinced she had no Intention of speaking further. “That is all” ank you. Now what do you think It best for me to do? I should like your opinion.” “But how can I give a just opinion? I cannot judge,” she burst out as if goaded beyond her patience. “I know pone of the facts™ A radiance, swift as the passage of a meteor, flashed across Stanley Heath's face and was gone, “Suppose you yourself had taken these jewels and were placed In this dilemma?’ pressed he. “The case would not be similar at all” “Why not? “Because—~because I should be gullty.” “You mean-—-you think--" “I do not believe you took the Jewels,” was the quiet answer, “Marcia! Marcia! Why don't you believe I took them? Have I ever told you I did not take them? Ever led you to suppose me innocent?” “You have never told me anything about it.” i WE HAVE ANOTHER DOG NOW By FRANK CONDON ELL, the Skipper Is going along on over to the dog heaven, and 1 suppose the less sald about that, the better, The Skipper was a Bosten, the small type, of no great mental stature, fussy like all elderly females, seven years in command of our yard, nervous as a bowl of jelly and a natural hater of grocer's boys, laundry wagon drivers, bill collectors and pimpled youths go- ing through college If you hand them two dollars for a magazine, The Skipper passed on at the dog hospital and I'm glad she in here at home, for that would have oeen truly awful She always had a hunch about the dog hospital. The doctors are all kind. iy, genial and helpful, but nevertheless, the Skipper used to shudder whenever we drove her over to the hospital for some mild aliment, like red-eye or hot nose. She just didn't like the place and there was reason for her fear. Once upon a time, she had four pups in that hospital, and it took a Cesar! an to pull her through. This time, she came down suddenly with a sickness, that If you get It and you're a dog, your goose is cooked. I didn’t know. 1 thought it was just an- other stomach-ache from eating snails Well, the dog hospital telephone lady mong me up on the fourth day and said : “I've got some bad news for you" That's all she needed to say, and for the next five days, our place was like 8 morgue, We all swore fervently we'd never own another dog, not In this world. Too harrowing, About the fifth dogless day, the house began to take on a slightly haunted feeling, Not enough noise. No scratch. Ing sounds. There was an old swing in the yard where the Skipper was wont to snooze away the afternoons and we hastily gave that to the Salva. tion Army truck, but it didn't do any good, “Maybe,” | opened up, “maybe we ought to get us a new dog. After all, we are normally a dog family and this preternatural silence around here is giving me the willlea” Everyone immediately agreed, “But no more Bostons, They are en- tirely too fragile for this world. We've had miserable luck with small animals, 80 suppose we purchase a large, quiet, meditative dog with a philosophic out. look on life. Bostons are always fret. ting themselves into a fever” There ensued a brief period of dog hunting and kennel looking, and pres ently this new dog appeared upon our horizon, and very much larger than a man's hand. A bald-headed German owned the kennel, and when he opened a certain wire door, out of the dim- ness floundered the strangdappearing animal that has since become part of our household. The German sald he was exactly three months old. 1 no- ticed that he was having trouble with his legs and steering gear, as he stag. gered about the room, hitting objects. “Acts Kind of drunk” I observed. “What's the matter with hime “He's just young,” the German ex- plained, “What breed of dog would that be?” “He's a Great Dane.” “Why are all his legs broken?” “They ain't broken. They fust look didn’t cash “If it is our Intention to purchase large dog,” I Informed the family, “then here Is certal dog, or what will be one led our new purchase out to the car and stuffed him aboard, where he In- stantly went to sheep. I was given, with a touch of formality, a typewrit ten pedigree card, mentioning the rath- er unusual ancestry of the new Dane. The card stated In so many words that his father was Caliente Tiger and his mamma was that famous Dane dame Aurora Tiger. Both parents happened to be present during the negotiations at the kennel, but neither seemed in. clined to recognize thelr son, or display any interest or pride in him. They were probably grumpy because he had turned out to be a purple son, as they were not purple themselves, one being a solled gray, Dane, while the mother was a sort of tornado roan. They were both one size smaller than 8 navy tug, sc we know what to ex- pect as time passes, The biography card stated further that the formal name of our new pos session was Tiger Clifton Ranger, which to me Is utterly ridiculous and far-fetched, and was vetoed by all on the way home. Fancy strolling about the house and calling plaintively: “Here, Tiger Cliffton Ranger, come get Your pork sausage.” So we called him Jeeter, As we were leaving for home, the German suggested that we return in a month, bring Jeeter back and the man wonld trim his ears, a process that consists of cutting notches out of the ears, which hang down normally like a couple of cold buckwheat cakes. When he shakes his head, they fly up on top and form a sort of lunatic beret, and that's the way they're going to stay, as | see no sense whatever In picking Jeeter's flappers. The man in- sisted that if they weren't trimmed. I couldn't show him at the dog show. I don’t want to show him. All I ask Is that be remain quietly In the yard, try to learn a few good habits and quit pawing the screen doors. Skipper used that trick, too—, paw. ing at the screens, making mournful noises and trying to beg inside the house, but there was a difference Skipper's pawing was a quiet scratch ing, but when this Jeeter guy paws a screen door, you haven't any door left ~-only a hole where the sereen was, Anyhow, we are on a large dog basis now and are watching him grow. He eats pretty well and bas an easy taste in foods, as he will eat anything ex- cept a live bee. He tried eating a live bee the other day and we had to ex- plain matters to the local police. His regular food is ground round steak and cod liver oll, the oll being to make his legs strong enough to lift him. It costs us 60 cents a day and wiii be a little more when he grows up—I imagine about two dollars an hour, af. ter he gets his full, adult appetite. He is growing stronger daily and can now raise himself off the rug If given time. At first, he could fall down perfectly, but was no good on the up stroke. He is also powerful enough to pull over a B50-pound bridge lamp, haul all the light plugs out of their sockets, and any fam. ily possession he hits with his tall is the daddy an idiot and everything he does Is cisely what an idiot would do if disturbed, so I believe we will The family was annoyed the un- | keep i } i R———— Burden of Half a Ton To become a porter In the Central One such is to walk the whole length of the market carrying at least 400 pounds on the back. Would-be porters must an ox, weighing about 500 pounds. The knack of balancing various ingly acquired. Beveral of the star porters can carry 600 pounds—more than a quarter of a ton. Standing still, some of them can hold across thelr shoulders a burden of half a ton. —Pearson’'s Weekly, LITTLE MISS MUFFET SITS ON A TUFFET . . 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