SIO,OOO FOR 100 WORDS. The publication of " The Million Dollar Mystery" begin* today. The story will run for twenty-two consecutive weeks in tliit paper. By an arrangement with the Thanhouser Film company it hat been made pottible not only to read the ttory in this paper, but also to see it each tceek in the various moving picture theaters. For the solution of thie mystery story SIO,OOO trill be given. CONDITIONS GOVERNING THE CONTEST. The prize of SIO,OOO will be won by the man, tcoman, or child tcho writes the most acceptable solution of the mystery, from which the last two reels of motion picture drama will be made and the last two chapters of the story written by Harold MacQrath. Solutions may be sent to the Than houser Film corporation, either at Chi cago or New York, any time up to mid night, Dec. H. They must bear post office mark not later than that data. This allows four weeks after the first appear ance of the last film re f eases and threa weeks after the last chapter is published in this paper, in which to submit solu tions. A board of threa judges trill determine tchich of the many solutions received it the most acceptable. The judgment of this board will be absolute and final. Nothing of a literary nature will be con sidered in the daemon, nor given any preference in tha selection of the winner of the 910,000 prise. The last two reels, which will give tha most acceptable solu tion to the mystery, will be presented in the theaters harming this feature as soon as it is practical to produce same. Tha story corresponding to these motion pic tures tcill appear in tha newspapers coin eidentally, or as soon after the appear ance of the pictures as practical. WitX '.he last two reels will be shown the pic tures of the winner, his or her home, and other interesting features. It is under stood that the newspapere, so far as prac tical, in printing the last two chapter* of the story by Harold MacQrath, will also show a picture of the tucoessful con testant. Solution* to the mystery must not be more than 100 words long. Here are some questions to 5e kept in mind in connec tion with the mystery as an aid to a solution: No. I —TTJiaf becomes of the millionairet No. 2—What becomes of the 51,000,000t No. 3—Whom does Florence marry f No. 4 —What becomes of the Russian countesst Nobody connected either directly or in directly with " The Million Dolla. 4 Myt tery " tcill be considered as a contestant. [Copyright: 1914: By Harold MacGraUi.l CHAPTER I. A. CALL IS THE NIGHT. THERE are few thiugs darker than a country road at night, particularly 11 one does not know the lay of the land. It is not difficult to traverse a known path : no matter how dart- It is, one is able to 1 :nl tile way by the aid of a mental photo graph taken in the daytime. But supposing jou have never been over the road ir the day time, tliat you know nothing whatever of its topography, where it dips or rises, where it narrows or forks. You find yourself in the same unhappy state of mind as a blind man •uddenly thrust into a strange house. One tlack night, along a certain country road, in the heart of New Jersey, in the days ■when the only good roads were city thorough fares and country highways were routes to limbo, a carriage went forward cautiously. From time to time it careened like a blunt nose barge in a beam sea. The wheels and springs voiced their anguish continually; for It was a good carriage, unaccustomed to such tuts and hummocks. " Faster, faster!" came a muffled voice Ifrom the interior. " Sir, I dare not drive any faster," replied fthe coachman. " I can't see the horses' heads, ftir, let alone the road. I've blown out the lamps, but I can't see the road any better for that." "Let the horses have their heads; they'll ifind the way. It can't be much farther. IXou'll see lights." The coachman swore ia his teeth. AD right. This man who was in such a hurry, ■would probably send them all into the ditch. •Save for the few stars above, he might have keen driving Beelzebub's coach in the Bottom less Pit. Black velvet, everywhere black vel vet. A wind was blowing, and yet the black ness was so thick tlyit it gave to the coach man the sensation of mild suffocation. By and by, through the trees, he saw a Bicker of ligjit. It might or might not b« the desolation. He cracked his whip recklessly and the carriage lurched on two wheels. The man in the carriage balanced himself carefully, so that the bundle in his arms should not be unduly disturbed. His arms ached. He atuck his head out of the window. "That's the place," he said. "And when you drive up make as little noise as yon can." " Tes, sir," called down the driver. When the carriage drew up at its journey's end the man inside jumped out and hastened toward the gates. He scrutinized the sign on one of the posts. This was the place: Miss FABLOW'S PRIVATE SCHOOL. The bundle in his arms stirred and be hur ried up the path to the door of the house. He seized the ancient knocker and struck several times. lie then placed the bundle on the step* and ran back to the waiting carriage, into which he stepped. " Off with you! " " That's a good word, air. Maybe we can make your train." "Do you think you could find this place ■gain? " 44 You couldn't get me on thia pike again, Mr, for a thousand; not me 1" The door slammed and the unknown sank back against the cushions. He took out hla fcandkerchief and wiped the damp perspiration Sfrom his forehead. The big burden was off hla tnind. Whatever happened In the future, they would never be able to get him through hi* heart 80 much for the folly of his youth. It wu ft quarter after Mln Susan Farlow bad just returned to the reception room from her nightly tour of the upper halla t* aee if all her charges were in bed, where the rulea of the school confined them after 9:30. It waa at thia moment that she heard the thunderoua knocking at the door. The old maid felt her heart atop beating for a moment Who could it be, at thia time of night? Then the thought came swiftly that perhapa the parent of aome one of her chargea waa ill and thia waa the aummona. Stilling her feara, aha went reaolutely to the door and opened it There waa so one in aight "Who it it?" ahe called. No one answered. She cupped her hand to her aar. She could hear tha clatter of horaea dimly. " Well! M ahe exclaimed; rather angrily, too. She waa in tha act of cloaing tha door when Z THE. INTQODUCTIONS 1 WEBE MADE. NOQTOIM FEU" B ATHE.Q, CHfcGQINED. ■ the light from the hall discovered to her the bundle on the steps. She stooped and touched it " Good heavens, it's a child ! " She picked the bundle up. A whimper cams from it, a tired little whimper of protest. She ran back to the reception room. A found ling! And on her doorstep! It was incred ible. What in the world should she do? It would create a Bcandal and hurt the prestige of the school. Some one had mistaken her select private school for a farmhouse. It was frightful. Then she unwrapped the child. It was about a year old, dimpled and golden haired. A thumb was in its rosebud mouth and its blue eyes looked up trustfully into her own. " Why, you cherub! " cried the old maid, a strange turmoil in her heart. She caught the child to her breast, and then for the first time noticed the thick envelope pinned to the child's cloak. She put the baby into a chair and brok« open the envelope. " Name this child Florence Gray. I will •end annually a liberal sum for her support and reclaim her on her eighteenth birthday. The other half of the inclosed bracelet will identify me. Treat the girl well, for I shall watch over her in secret." Into the fixed routine of her humdrum life had come a mystery, a tantalizing, fascinating mystery. She had read of foundlings left oa doorsteps—from paper covered navels confis cated from her pupils—but that one should b* placed upon her own respectable doorstep I Suddenly she smiled down at the child and the child smiled back. And there was nothing more to be done except to bow before the de crees of fate. Like all prim old maids, her heart was full of unrequited romance, and here was something she might spend its floods upon without let or hindrance. Already she was hoping that the man or woman who had left it might never come back. The child grew. Regularly eatfh year, upon a certain date, Miss Farlow received a regis tered letter with money. These letters came from all parts of the world; always the same •um, always the same line —" lam watching." Thus seventeen years passed; and to Susan Farlow each year seemed shorter than the one before. For she loved the child with all her heart. She had not trained young girls all these years without becoming adept In the art of reading the true signs of breeding. There was no ordinary blood in Florence; the fast was emphasized by her exquisite face, her •mall hands and feet, her spirit and gentle ness. And now, at any day, some one with a broken bracelet might come for her. As the days went on the heart of Susan Farlow grew heavy. " Never mind, runty," said Florence; " I ■hall always come back to see you." She meant it, poor child; but how was she to know the terrora which lay yonder, beyond the horizon? The house of Stanley Hargreave, In River dale, was the house of no ordinary rich man. Outside it was simple enough, but within you learned what kind of a man Hargreave waa. There were rare lapahana-and Saruka on the floors and tapestries on the walls, with here and there a fine painting. The library itself represented a fortune. Money had been laid out lavishly but never wastefully. It was the home of a scholar, a dreame., a wide traveler. Id the library atood the master of the houae, THE TELEGRAPH, HARRISBURG, PA„ idly flngerlnc aome paper* which lay on the atudy table. He shrugged at aome unpleaaant thought, aettled hia overcoat about hia shoul ders, took up hia hat and walked from the room, frowning slightly. The butler, who alao acted in the capacity of valet, alwaya within call when hia maater waa about stepped awiftly to the hall door and opened it " I may be out lftte, Jones," aald Hargreave. " Yea, air." Hargreave stared into hia face keenly, aa if trying to pierce the grave face to learn what waa going on behind it " How long have you been with me?" " Fourteen years, air." " Some day I shall need you." " My life haa always been at your disposal, sir, since that night you rescued it." " Well, I haven't the leaat doubt that when I ask you will give." " Without question, sir. It «u alwayt to understood." Hargreave's glance Bought the mirror, thea the smileless face of his man. He laughed, but the lound conveyed no sense of mirth; then he turned and went down the step* slowly, like a man burdened with some thought which was not altogether to his liking. Ha had sent an order for hia car, but had Imme diately countermanded it. He would walk till he grew tired, hail a taxicab, and take a run up and down Broadway. The wonderful illu mination might prove diverting. For eighteen years nearly; and now it was as natural for him to throw a glance over his shoulder when ever he left the house as it was for him to breathe. The average man would have grown careless during all these years; but Hargreave was not an average man; he was, rather, an extraordinary individual. It waa his life in exchange for eternal vigilance, and he knew and accepted the fact Half an hour later he got Into a taxicab and directed the man to drive downtown as far as Twenty-third street and back to Columbus circle. The bewildering display of lights, how ever, in nowise served to lift the sense of op pression that had weighed upon him all day. South of Forty-second street he dismissed the taxicab and stared undecidedly at the brilliant sign of a famous restaurant. He was neither hungry nor thirsty ; but there would be stranga faces to study and music. It was an odd whim. He had not entered a Broadway restaurant in all these years. Ha was unknown. He belonged to no clubs. Two months was the longest time he had ever re mained in New York since the disposal of his old home in Madison avenue and his resigna tion from his clubs. This once, then, he would break the law he had written down for him self. Boldly be entered the restaurant. Some time before Hargreave surrendered to the restless spirit of rebellion, bitterly to re pent for it later, there came into this restau rant a man and a woman. They were both evidently well known, for the head waiter was obsequious and hurried them over to the best table he had left and took the order himself. The man possessed a keen, intelligent face. You might have marked him for a successful lawyer, for there was an earnestness about his expression which precluded a life of idleness. His age might have been anywbere between 40 and 50. The shoulders were broad and the hands which lay clasped upon the table wen slim but muscular. Indeed, everything about him suggested hidden strength and vitality. His companion was small, handsome, and ani mated. Her frequent gestures and mutable eyebrows betrayed her foreign birth. Her aga was a matter of importance to no one but herself. They were at coffee when she said: " There** a young man coming toward ua. He is look ing at you." The man turned. Instantly his face lighted op with a friendly smile of recognition. " Who is it? " she asked. " A chap worth knowing; a reporter just a little out of the ordinary. I'm going to intro duce him. You never can tell. We might need him some day. Ah, Norton, how ars you ? " " Good evening, Mr. Braine." The reporter, catching sight of a pair of dazzling eyes, hesi tated. "The Princess Perigoff, Norton. You're ia no hurry, ftfe you? " "Not now," amiled the reporter. "Ah 1" said the princeaa, Interested. It waa the old compliment aaid in an unusual way. It pleased her. The reporter sank into a chair. When in active he waa rather a dreamy eyed sort of chap. He posseaaed that rare accomplishment of talking upon one subject and thinking upon another at the aame time. So, while he talked gayly with the young woman on varied themes, his thoughts were busy speculating upon her companion. He was quite certain that tha name Braine was assumed, but he was also equally certain that the man carried an ex traordinary brain under his thatch of salt and pepper hair. The man had written three or four brilliant monographs on poisons and the uses of radium, and it was through and by these that the reporter had managed to pick up bis acquaintance. He lived well, but in conspicuously. Suddenly the pupils of Braine's eyes nar rowed ; the eye became cold. Over the smoke of his cigaret he was looking into the wail mirror. A man had passed behind him and sat down at the next table. Still gazing into the mirror, Braine saw Norton wave his hand; aaw also the open Wonder on the reporter's pleasant face. "Who is your friend, Norton?" Braine Mked indifferently, his head still unturned. "Stanley Hargreave. Met him in Hong kong when I was sent over to handle a part of the revolution. War correspondence stuff. First time I ever ran across him on Broadway at night. We've since had some powwows over some rare books. Queer old cock; brave aa a lion but as quiet as a mouse." Bookish, eh? My kind. Bring him over." Underneath the table Braine maneuvered to touch the foot of the princess. (§§ St? il K • *'' *'• ,; & '• >''-\- J-' suH L' W k j i-.: v j'WTyfalMM EBkt -.>/ .< SMffWB •"' ■ »*'" HBBHuhK , ; * I . fl^^^Bgliifi^H^gKH^HHl^^w^raHHffii 1 ''• • •" ' ■/:,' . 1 J HE. SCauTIMIZtD THL< SMGN ON ONE, Of THE, PO?T*S.THJS VVA9 THE PLACE,. " I don't know," said the reporter dubiously. " He might say no, and that would embarrass the whole lot of us. He's a bit of a hermit I'm surprised to see him here." " Try," urged the princess. " I like to meet men who are hermits." " I haven't the least doubt about that," the reporter laughed. " I'll try; but don't blame me if I'm rebuffed." He left the table with evident reluctance and approached Hargreave. The two shook hands cordially, for the elder man was rather fond of this medley of information known as Jim Norton. " Sit down, boy ; sit down. You're just the kind of a man I've been wanting to talk to tonight." "Wouldn't you rather talk to a pretty woman ? " " I'm an old man." " Bah! That's a hypocritical bluff, anrl you know it. My friends at the next table have asked me to bring you over." " I do not usually care to meet strangers." " Make an exception this once," said th» reporter, vho had seen Braine's eyes change and ' s curious to know why the appearance of Hargreave in the mirror had brought about that metally gleam. Here were two unique men; he desired to see them face to face. " This once. My fault; I ought not to be here; I feel out of place. What a life, though, you reporters lead 1 To meet kings and presi dents and great financiers, Socialists and an archists, the whole scale of life, and to slap these people on the back as if they were every day friends 1" " Now you're making fun of me. For one king there are always twenty thick brogans ready to kick me down the steps; don't forget that" Hargreave laughed. "Come, then; let us get it over with." The Introductions were made. Norton felt rather chagrined. So far as he could see, the two men were total strangers. Well, it was all in the game. Nine out of ten oppor tunities for the big story were fake alarms; but he was always willing to risk the labor these nine entailed for the sake of the tenth. At length Braine glanced at his watch, and the princess nodded. Adieux were said. In side the taxicab Braine leaned back with a deep, audible sigh. "What it is?" she asked. " The luck of the devil's own," he said. * Child of the Steppes, for years I've flowo about seaa and continent!, through valleyi and over mountains—for what? For tha sight of the face of that man we have ju*t left At first glance I wasn't sure; but the sound of hia voice was enough. Olga, the next time you see that reporter, throw your arms around his neck and kiss him. What did I tell you? Without Norton's help I would not have been sure. I'm going to leave you at your apartment." "The man of the Black Hundred?" aha whispered. " The man who deserted and defied the Black Hundred, who broke his vows, and never paid a kopeck for the privilege; tha man who had been aprointed for the aupreme work and who ran away. In those days wa needed men of his stamp, and to accompliah this end. ..." " There was a woman," she interrupted with a touch of bitterness. " Always the woman. And she was as clever and handsome as you are." " Thanks. Sometimes ..." " Ah, yes I" ironically. " Sometimes yon wish you could settle down, marry, and have a family! Your domesticity would last about a month." She made no retort because she recognized the truth of this statement " There's an emerald I know of," be said ruminatively. " It's quite possible that you may be wearing it within a few days." " I am mad over them. There is something in the green stone that fascinates me. I can't resist it." " That's because, somewhere in the far past, your ancestors were orientals. Here we are. I'll see you tomorrow. I must hurry, Good-night." She stood on the curb for a moment and watched the taxicab till it whirled around a corner. The man held ber with a fascina- tion more terrible than any jewel. She knew him to be a great and daring rogne, cunning, patient, fearless. Packed away in that mind of his there were a thousand accomplished deeds which had roused futilely the police of two continents. Braine! She could hay* laughed. The very name he had chosen was an insolence directed at society. The subject of her thoughts soon arrived at his destination. L flight of stairs carried him into a dimly lighted hall, smelling evilly of escaping gas. He donned a black mask and struck the door with a series of light blows; two, then one, then three, and again one. Tha door opened and he slipped inside. Round a table sat several men, also masked. They were all tried and trusted rogues; but not one of them knew what Braine looked like. He alone remained unknown save to the man designated as the chief, who was only Braine's lieutenant. The mask was the insignia of the Black Hundred, an organization with all the ramifications of the CamoTra without their abiding stupidity. Trom the assassination of a king, down to the robbery of a country post office, nothing was too great or too small for their nets. Their god dwells in the hearts of all men and is called Greed. The ordinary business over, the chief dis missed the men, and he and Braine alone re mained. " Vroon, I have found him," said Braine. " There are but few : which one?" 44 Eighteen years ago, in St. Petersburg." " I remember. The millionaire's son. Did he recognize you?" " I don't know. Probably he did. But ba always had good nerves. He is being followed at this moment. We shall strike quick; for If he recognized me he will act quick. He is cool and brave. You remember how he braved us that night in Russia. Jumped bold ly through the windov.- at the risk of break ing his neck. He landed safely; that is tha only reason he eluded us. Millions: and they alipped through our fingers. If I could only find some route to his heart I The lure we held out to him is dead." "Or in the fortress, which is the same thing. What are your plans?" " I have in mind something like this." And Hargreave was working out his plana, too; and he was juqt as much of a gej>ral as Braine. He sat at his library table, tbn maxillary muscles in his jaws working. So they had found him? Well, he had broken th» law of his own making and he must aaffax the consequence*. Bralne, who waa Menahi koff in Buaaia, Schwarti in Germany, Mendoia in Spain, Cartucci in Italy, and Du Boia in France; ao the rogue had found him out? Poor fool that be bad been 1 High apirited, full of those youthful dreams of doing good in the world, ha had joined what ha had be lieved a great secret socialistic movement to learn that be had been trapped by a band of brilliant thievea. Sldnapera and assaaal natora for hire; the Black Hundred; fienda from Tophetl For nearly eighteen years he had eluded them, for he knew that directly or indirectly they would never ceaae to bunt for him; end an idle whim had toppled him into their clutches. He wrote several letters feverishly. Tha last Was addressed to Miss Susan Farlow and read: " Dear Madam i Send Florence Gray to New York, to arrive here Friday morning. My half of the bracelet will be identification. Inclosed find cash to square accounts." He would get together all hia available funda, recover his child, and fly to the ends of the world. He would tire them out. They would find that the peaceful dog was « bad animal to rouse. He rang for the faithful Jones. "Jonea, they have found me," he aaid aimply. "You will need me, then?" " Quite possible. Please mail these and then we'll talk it ovc. No doubt aome one ia watching outside. Be careful." " Very good, sir." Hargreave bowed his head in hia hands. Many timea he had journeyed to the school and hung about the gates, straining his eyes toward the merry groupa of young girls. Which among them was his, heart of his heart, blood of hia blood? That she might never be drawn into tbis abominable tangle, he had resolutely torn her out of his life com pletely. The happiness of watching the child grow into girlhood he bad denied himself. She at leaat would be aafe. Only when she waa safe in a far country would he dare tell her. He tried in vain to conjure up a picture of her: he always «\w t 1 j mother whom he had loved and hated with all the ardor of his youth. Many things happened tl i next day. There was a visit to the hangar o- one William Orts, the aviator, famous for his daredevil exploits. There were two visit , in fact, and the sec ond visitor was knocked down for his pains. He had tried to bribe Orts. There were several excited bankers, who protected against such large withdrawals with out the usual formal announcement. But a check was a check, and they had to pay. Ilargreave covered a good deal of ground, but during all this time his right hand never left the automatic in his overcoat pocket, except at those moments he was obliged ts sign bis checks. He would shoot and make inquiries afterward. Far away a young girl and her companion got on the train which vrai to carry her to New York, the great dream city aha waa always longing to aee. And the spider wove hla web. Hargreave reached home at night. He put the money in the aafe and was telephoning when Jones entered and handed his master an unstamped note. " Where did yon get this?" "At the door, sir. I Judge that the house is surrounded." Hargreave read the note. It stated briefly that all hia movements during the day had been noted. It waa known that he had col lected a million I \ paper money. If he sur rendered this he would be allowed twenty four houra before the -eal chase began. Other wise he should die before midnight. Har greave crushed the note in his hand. They might kill him; there was a chance of their accomplishing that; but never should they touch his daughter's fortune. " Jones, you go to the rear door and I'll take a look out of the front. Wo have an hour. I know the breed. They'll wait till midnight and then fore* their way In." Hargreave saw a dozen shadows in the front yard. " Men all about the back yard," whispered Jones down the hall. The master eyed the man. " Very well, sir," replied the latter, with underatanding. "I am ready." The master -vent to the safe, emptied it of its contents, cro*s tLe hall to the bedroom, and closed the door softly behind him, Jonea having entered the same room through another door to befool any possible watcher. After a long while, perhaps an hour, the two men emerged from the room from the same doors they had entered. So whispered the watcher to hia friends below. " Hargreave ia going upstalra." " Let him go. Let bim take a looi at lis from the upper windows. He will understand that nothing but wings will save him." Silence. By and by a watcher reported that be heard the scuttle of the roof rattle. " Look !" another crieU, startled. A bluish glare came from the # roof. " He's shooting off a Roman candle 1" They never Baw the man-made bird till it alighted upon the roof. They never thought of shooting at it till it had taken wing I Then they rushed tho doors of the house. Thej made short work of Jones, whom they tied up like a Christmas fowl and plumped rough* ly into e chair. They broke open the safe, to find it empty. And while the rogues were rummaging' about the room, renting their spite upon many a treasure they could neither ap preciate nor understand, a man from the out side burst in. > " The old man is dead and the money ia at the bottom of the ocean t We punctured her. She's gone 1" A thin, inscrutable smile stirred the lipa of the man bound in the chair. [TO BE CONTINUED.]
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers