v I i* KAi iii ii» Li!^ c f..-' I iw i IN OL LAR S TP* IE Prize I\ inning Solution of "The Million Dollar Mystery." By Ida Damon. A physician has been summoned and it is learned that Braine lives. Braine, Olga and Yroon are taken to the Siberian mines to end their lives. Hargreave, who has been acting as the butler for Florence's protection, reveals his identity and embraces his daughter. Then he joins the hands of Florence and Norton, after which he takes them to Florence's room where he turns the portrait of himself and presses a button, the back of the portrait then opens and he places her hand on the million dollars. Thereafter follows the marriage of Florence and Norton and all is happiness. IN* St. Louis. Mo., way out in the south side of the town and in the heart of ft modest district, stands a particu lar apartment house. It is like hun dreds of its neighbors up and down Minnesota avenue. It is two stories high, red brick, stands on a terrace a few feet above the street, and faces the observer with an unorna mentod front that radiates rigid respectabil ity. The ten steps and narrow walk are spot less and the two white enameled brick col umns on the perchlike porch show they hav been scrubbed. The two windows in the first apartment reflect the silent darkness of n seldom used and old fashioned "front room." The shades are drawn to a few inches below the top bar of the lower sash with mathematical accu racy. The lace curtains, primly white, are most precisely divided. There is the home of an old man. his wife, and their daughter, a stenographer and the mainstay of the little four room home. Their story is one of the short and simple annals of the poor. The only fortune they have ever had was misfortune- Their success has been extremely modest. The old folks are proud of their dutiful daughter and hopeful for her two brothers, I FINAL EPISODE OF THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY. lOjpyrlght: 1915: By Harold JUcGra*h<] CHAPTER XXIIr. TEB SECRET OF THE MILLION. I T will be remembered that the CountJss Olga bad darted up the stairs during the 1 struggle between Braine and his captors. The police who had followed her were recalled to pursue one of the lesser rogues. This left Olga free for a moment. She stuio out and down as far as the landing. Servan, the Russian agent, stood waiting for the taxicab to roll up to the porte eoehere for himself. Braine, and Vroon- Norton had taken Florence by the hand, ostensibly to con duct her to the million. Suddenly Braine made a dash for liberty. Norton rushed after him. Just as he reached Braine a shot was heard. Braine whirled upon his heels and crashed to the floor. Olga. intent upon giving injury to Norton, whom she regarded equally with Hargreave as having brought about the downfall, had hit her lover instead. With a cry of despair she dashed back into Florence's room, quite ready to end it all. She raised the revolver to her temple, shuddered, and lowered the weapon: so tenaciously do we cling to life. Below they were all stunned by the suddenness of the shot. Instantly they sought the fallen man's side, and a hasty examina tion gave them the opinion that the man was dead. Happily a doctor was on the way, Servan h&Ting given a call, as one of the Black Hundred had been badly wounded. But what to do with that mad woman up stairs? Hargreave advised them to wait. The house was surrounded: she could not pos sibly escape save by one method, and perhaps that would be the best for her. Hargreave looked gravely at Norton as he offered this suggestion. The reporter understood: the millionaire was willing to give the woman a chance. " And you are my father?" said Florence, still bewildered by the amazing events. " But I don't understand!" her gaze roving from the real Jones to her father. " I don't doubt it, child." replied Har greave- " I'll explain. When I hired Jones here, who is really Jedson of Scotland Yard, I did BO because we looked alike when shaven. It was Jedson here who escaped by the balloon: it was Jedson who returned the five thousand to Norton: it was Jedson who was wounded in the arm; it was he who watched the doings of the Blartc Hundred and kept me reasonably well informed. I myself guarded yoa, my child- Last nifcht, 9 unbeknown to you, I left, and the real Jones —for it is easier to call him that—took my place.'* "And I never saw the difference!" ex claimed Florence. " That is natural." smiled the father. " You were thinking of Norton here instead of me. Eh?" Fiorence blushed. "Well, why not? Here. Norton!" * The millionaire took Florence's hand and placed it In the reporter's. "It seems that I've got to lose her after all. Kins her. man: in heaven's name, kiss her!" And Norton threw his arms around the srirl •ltd kissed her soundly, careless of the fact who are away from home engaged in inde pendent pursuits. The careful management of affairs by the mother and the simple tastes of the household have made life comfortable and conserva tively happy—enough good clothes to " dress up " on Sunday, enough to spare for picture shows, magazines, and to put away a mite every week. They have never hoped for more. ♦ * Hot' The Idea Came to Her. Into this same home this very story you are reading today carries the news that the daughter is to receive SIO,OOO in cash, like a diamond falling from the sky. There will b? a thrill in these lines for the girl. Miss Ida Damon of 3731 Minnesota ave nue, St. Louis. The 70 year old father, Al bert. and the industrious mother. Caroline, will have to spread the paper on the table by the window back in the snug, warm kitchen and read these lines over and oTer again to be sure that they are really true. It is a romance of true and humble life that took its beginning in fiction and grew Into fact. One day last August Miss Damon went to Chicago on a visit. At a Sixty-third street uio- that he was observed by both enemies and friends. Suddenly the policeman who had been standing by the side of Braine ran into the lh ing room. • " He's alive! Braine is alive! He just stirred!" " What!" exclaimed Norton and Hargreave in a single breath. " Yes, sir! I saw his hands move. It's a good thing we sent for a doctor. He ought to be along here about now." Even as he spoke the bell rang, and they all surged out into the hall, forgetting for the moment all about the million. Olga hadn't killed the man. then? The doctor knelt beside the stricken man and examined him. He shrugged. " Will he live?" " Certainly. A scalp wound that laid him out for a few moments- He'll be all right In a few days. He was lucky. A quarter of an inch lower and he'd have passed in his checks." "Good!" murmured Servan. "So our friend will accompany me back to good Rus sia? O, we'll be kind to him during the jour ney. Have him taken to the hospital ward at the Tombs. Now for the little lady up stairs." A moment later Braine opened Ills eyes and the policeman assisted him to his feet. Servan with a nod ordered the police to help the wounded man to the taxicab" which had just arrived. Braine. now wholly conscious, flung back one look of hatred toward Hargreave: and that was the last either Florence or her father ever saw of Braine of the Black Hun dred —a fine specimen of a man gone wrong through greed and an inordinate lust for re venge. The policemau returned to Hargreave. " It's pretty quiet upstairs," he suggested. " bon't you think, sir, that I'd better try that bedroom door again?" " Well, if you must," assented Hargreavs reluctantly. " But don't be ro"gh with her if you can help it." For Braine he had no sympathy. When he recalled all the misery that devil's emissary had caused him. the years of hiding and pur suit. the loss of the happiness that had right fully been his, his heart became adamant' For eighteen years to have ridden and driven and sailed up and down the world, always confident that sooner or later that demon wojild find him! He had lost the childhood of his daughter, and now he was to" lose her in her womanhood. And because of this im placable hatred the child's mother had died in the Petrograd prison fortress- But what an eqfmy the man had been! He, Hargreave, had needed all his wits constantly; he had never dared go to sleep except with one eye open. But in employing ordtnary crooks Braiue had at length overreacted himself, and now he must pay the penalty. The way of the transgressor is hard, and though this ancient saying looks dingy with the wear and tear of centuries, it still holds good. But he felt sorry for the woman np above. She had loved not wisely but too well. Far l»etter for her if she put an end to life. She ® MISS IDA DAMON • The Girl with the SIO,OOO Idea. would not live a year in the God forsaken snows of Siberia. " My kind father!" said Florence, as if she could read liis thoughts. " I had a hard time of it. my child. It was difficult to play the butler with you about. The times that I fought down the desire to sweep you up iu my arms! But I kept an iron grip on that impulse. It would have imperiled you. In some manner it would have leaked out, and your life and mine wouldn't have been worth a button." Florence threw her arms around him and held him tightly. "That poor weak woman upstairs!" she murmured. "Can't they let her go?" "So, dear. She has lost, and losers pay >W ||| nld I II I f —— J,. urn, I MUM . JL 1 IWW vmmsmmm, N w«W— inn i i IIBJ And So Florence and Norton Were Married. the stakes. That's life Norton, you knew who I was all the time, didn't you?" "I did, Mr. Hargreuve. There was a near on the lobe of your ear; aud secretly 1 had often wondered at the likeness between you and the real Jones. When I caught a glimpse of that ear then I knew what the game was. Aud I'll add you played it amazingly well. The one flaw in Braine's campaign was his hurry. He started the ball rolling before get ting all the phases clearly established in his mind. He was n brave man anyhow; and more thau once he had me where I believed that prayers only were necessary." " And do you think that you can lead Flor ence to the million?" asked Hargreave, smil ing. " For one thing, it is in her room and lia, always been there. It never was in the chest." " Not bad, not bad," mused the tnther. "But perhaps after all it will be best if you show it to her yourself." "Just a little uncertain?',' jibed the mil licnaire. "Absolutely certain. I w(ll whisper In your ear where it is hidden." Nortou leaned forward as Ilargrr'nvp bent attentively. "You've li it it." s.iji| the miiiioiin Ire. " But 0 how in the world did you gues s it." " Because it was the last place any one would look for it I judged at the start that you'd hide it in just such a spot, in some place where you could always guard It and lay your bands on it quickly if needs said must." " I'm mighty glad you were on my side,"' said Hargreave. "In a few minutes we'll go up and take a look at those packets of bills. There's a very unhappy young woman there at present." " It is in my room?" cried Florence. Hargreave nodded. Meantime the Countess Olga lioTered be tween two courses: a brave attempt to escape by the window or to turn the revolver against her heart. In either case there was nothing left in life for her. The man she loved was dead below, killed by her hand. She fe.t as though she was treading air in some fantas tical nightmare. She could not go forward or backward, aud her heels were always within reach of her pursuers. So this was the end of things? Thedreauis she had had of going away with Braine to other climes, the happiness she had pictured, all mere chimeras! A sudden rage swept over her. She would escape, she would con tinue to play the game to the end. She would show them that she had been the man's mate, not his pliant tool? She raised the window and in slipped the policeman who had pa tiently been waiting for her. Instantly she placed the revolver at her temple. A quick clutch and the policeman had her by the wrist. She made one tigerish effort to free herself, shrugged, and signified that she sur rendered. " I don't want to hurt you, miss," said the policeman,'" but if you make any attempt to escape I'll have to put the handcuffs on you.'.' " I'll go quietly. What are you going to do with me?" "Turn you ovci 1., the P.is-ihni agent. tion picture house she saw a flaming herald announcing " The Million Dollar M.vstcry." She passed by. Weeks later, back at her typewriter in St. Louis, one of a long battery of stenographers In the skyscraper office of a big roofing con cern. she was set at the task of checking ad vertisements in the newspapers. She enme upon the announcement that a prize of SIO,OOO was being offered for a solution of "The Million Dollar Mystery," the solution to carry the suggestion for a plot with -which to build the final episode of the film serial drama. ♦ * Reporter Finds Her Sceptical. The girl had an idea. She followed the picture for weeks. Then one day she wrote the idea into words and sent it to The Chi cago Tribune. After the judges reached their decision a reporter was sent to St. Louis to hunt out this young woman and, without taking her into confidence, to make a report. Inquiry at the prim little house in Minne •ota avenue met polite frigidity. The old folks were indeed careful of what they might have to say to a strange young man asking about their daughter. Her business address was imparted reluctantly and with an Im plied injunction. " She says never to call her up unless it is something of the greatest importance. She doesn't like to be interrupted. Better come back here to see her." Miss Damon was found at work at her of fice. Five feet tall, almost plump, athletically poise>l, clear skinned, home grown complex ion, brown hair and eyes to match. She was interested but skeptical at the sug gestion she was "among the remaining pos sible winners in the sward of 'The Million Dollar Mystery' prize." * * What She'll Do with Prize. It took several credentials and one ctiap eron to convince her that it was fitting that she should take luncheon with the insistent stranger. has extradition papers, and I guess it's Si beria." "For me?" She laugh.d scornfully. "Do ' 1 look like a woman who would go to Si beria ?" "Be careful, miss. As I said. I don't want to use the cuffs unless I have to." She laughed again. It did not have a pleasant sound in the officer's ears. He had heard women, suicidal bent, laugh like that. " I'll ask yon for that ring on your finger." " Do you think there is poison in ItV" " I shouldn't be surprised." he admitted. She slipped the ring from her finger and gare it to him. " There is poison in it, so be careful how you handle it." she said. The policeman accepted it gingerly and dropped it into his capacious pocket. It tinkled as It fell against the handcuffs. " Before yon take me away I want you to let me sec . , . my man." "I can do that." At that moment the other policcmau broke in the door. " All right, Dolan; she's given up the game." " She didn't kill the man after all," said Officer Dolau. " He's alive?" she screamed. "Yes; and they're taken him off to the Tombs. Just a scalp woun3. Hell be all right in a day or two." "Alive!" murmured Olga. She had not killed the man she loved, then? And if they were taken to Siberia she would be with him until the end of things. With her handsome head proudly erect she walked toward the door. She paused for a moment to look at the portrait of Hargreave- Somehow it seemed to smile at her ironically. Then on down the stairs, between the two officers, she went. Her glance traveled coolly from face to face and stopped at Florence's. There she saw pity. "You are sorry for me?" she asked skep tically. O, yes! I forgive you," suid the generous Florence. " Thanks! Officers, lam ready." So the Countess Olga passed through the hall door forever. How many times had she entered it, with guile and treachery In her heart? It was the game. She had played it and lost, and she must pay her debts to Fate the Fiddler. Siberia! The tin or lead mines, the ankle chains, the knout, and many things that were far worse to a beautiful woman! Well, so long as Braine was at her side she would suffer all these things without a mur mur. And always there would be a chance, a chance! Wheu they heard the taxicab rumble down the driveway to the street Hargreave turned to Florence. " Come along, now, and we'll have the bad taste taken off our tongues. To win out is the true principle of life. It takes off some of the tinsel and glamour, but the end is worth while," They all liw.jiel up the ►tsiiK t<< Flor- " What would you do with the SIO,OOO if it should be given to you?'' "If I didn't die of heart disease on the spot I think I would buy a home for my folks with some of it nnd put the rest in the bank," nhe answered. " Then after that I might go into some kind of business for myself maybe But what's the use of spinning dreams about it? There never could be that much luck in our family. Things don't hap pen that way. " I just wrote my solution of the ' Mys tery ' and sent it in beeauso 1 wanted to ex press my notion of how it should turn out. I wanted to get it off my mind, liße folks who write letters to the newspapers. I -would be disappointed a little if the picture didn't have n happy ending for the heroine, with the bnd people punished and the good people re warded. but I guess we can trust the pro . ducers to take care of that. There's enough trouble in real life, so we ought to make our plays happy." ♦ ♦ She's 24 Yean Old. Miss Damon is 24 years old and admits it. She left school when she was 13 years old and went to work three years later. She has ■been at work ever since- The first job was behind the cash register in a clothing shop. The next place gave her a chance at night school, and before long she was a well equipped bookkeeper and stenographer. Posi tions have come easier since then, and along with her diligence has come the modest pros perity of the home in Minnesota avenue, St. Louis. Miss Damon is a very feminine young per son given equally to embroidery, the moving pictures, and baseball. It is supposed to be a matter of confidence, but her mother »ays " Ida doesn't like to wash the dishes.'' Anyway she is tbe girl with a ten thousand dollar idea. Her solution and the concluding episode written from it, by Harold MacGrath, ar<year on this page. ence's room. So wonderful is the power and attraction of money that they forgot the humiliation of their late enemies. Hargreave approached the portrait of him self. took it from the wall, pressed a button on the back, which fell outward. Behold! there, in neat packages of a hundred thou sand each, lay the mystic million! The spec tators were awed into silence for a moment. Perhaps the thought of each was identical the long struggle, the terrible hazards, the deaths that bad taken place because of this enormous sum of money. A million, sometimes called cool, why no body knows! There it lay, without feeling, without emotion; yellow notes payable to hearer on demand. Presently Florence gasped, .Norton sighed, and Hargreave smiled. The face of Jones (or Jedsonl alone remained im passive. A million dollars is a marvelous sight. Few people have ever seen it, not even million aires themselves. I daresay you never saw it, and I'm tolerably certain I never have, or will! A million, ready for eager, careles* fingers to spend or thrifty fingers to multiply! What Correggio, what Rnbens. what Titian could stand beside it? None that I wot of. " Florence, that is all yours, to do with a* you please, to spend when and how you will. Share it with your husband to be. He is a brave and gallant young man and is fortugata in finding a young woman equally brave and gallant For the rest of my days I expect peace. Perhaps sometimes Jones here and I will talk over the strange things that haT* happened; but we'll do that only when we haven't you young folk# to talk to. After your wedding journey yon will retnrn here. While I live this shall be your home. I de mand that mucfi- Free! No more looking over my shoulder when I walk the streets; no more testing windows and doora. I am myself again. I take np the thread I laid down eighteen years ago. Have no fear. Neither Braine nor Olga will ever return. Russia has a grip of steel." Three weeks later Servan, the Russian agent, left for Russia with his three charges —Olga, Braine. and Vroon. It was a long journey they went upon, something like ten « weeks, always watched, always under the strictest guard, compelled to eat with wooden forks and knives and spoons. Waking or sleeping they knew uo rest from espionage. From Paris to Berlin, from Berlin to Petro grad. then known as St. Petersburg; and then began the cruel journey over the mighty •teppes of that barbaric wilderness to the Siberian mines. The way of the transgressor is hard. On the same day that Olga. Braine, ami Vroon made their first descent into the deadly mines Florence and Norton were married. After the storm the sunshine; and who ahall deny them happiness? Immediately after the ceremony the two sailed for Europe on their honeymoon; and it is needless to say that some of the million went with them, but there was no mystery about It! fTHS BND.I
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers