12 || NEAL of the NAVY !j Br WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE ______ J; Author of "ReJ Moat*," "Running Fight, " "Cahpate, " "Blue Buckle, "etc. ! I || || | Novelized from tbe Photo Play of the Sam* Nam* Produced by < J; tbc Pathe Exchange, Inc. !| 'CocTrUhU UU. hi Wllllui Hsmllion Utboroa) [ "Plrst," returned Hernandez, "say nothing to anyone—about me or my companions—nor about Inez here— nothing. To you we are as a sealed book. Break silence and —well, my ancestors were of the Spanish inquisi tion, my young friend. Silence comes first. Next, get that packet I c.xre not by what means—and bring it to me at the time and place I shall here after designate. Now go. Tonight, you understand —tonight." That night, Welcher, fully dressed, and tossing in his restless bed, heard the tap-tap of pebbles on his window. Startled, he rose and peered without. The sky was cloudless and the moon three-quarters—by Its rays he saw three crouching figures—shadows of the night. One of these figures held up a white hand. Welcher responded with a silent signal; and then drew back Into his room. He drew from his pocket a pint flask and drank deep. He smoked a cigarette, taking quick, Bwift, strong puffs and inhaling deeply —he needed strength. He waited un til the tingling of that first drink had entered his system; and then he took another and another. Then he re joiced, for he was reckless now, reck less as to consequences. He lit an other cigarette, and tossed the lighted match far from him and he tiptoed from the room. Softly and in his stocking jfeet, he crept along the narrow second 6tory hallway. At last he stood in ifront of Annette's door. The door was closed. Welcher turned the handle softly, noiselessly, and it yielded to his pressure. The door was not locked. ! t T nder his silent, steady pressure, it opened on a crack —inch wide—more. jThen suddenly, from within he heard jAnnette's voice—a dream voice "Neal—Neal." | It startled him. He stood there sl !lent for an instant. Then he realized that something had happened to him — he had become sober, too sober, to do the trick. He felt in his pocket for the |flask. It was not there. He had left in in his room. Stealthily he groped his way back to his room, opened the ;door and reached for the bottle. Then with a choking, inarticulate cry, he turned and darted down the stairs, out of the house and up the road. His room was a living furnace of red flames —the hastily tossed lighted match had done its work. Outside, Ponto and Hernandez"'won dering, gave chase. Welcher, with fear at his heels, sped on and on. CHAPTER XVI. Peril. Annette woke, choking. Smoke Ipoured into her room. She realized at once that the house was burning. She heard the nearby crackling of flames— she saw the nearby glare of flame. Without the village Are gong clanged I—she1 —she heard the shouts of volunteers coming down the road. She ran to Mrs. Hardin's room. The door was locked; smoke was creeping from underneath the door. "Mother — Mother Hardin," cried Annette. There iwas no response. In a frenzy Annette rushed back to her room, seized a chair and returned to the locked door. AVith a sudden twist of her lithe body she raised the chair above her shoul ders and brought It crashing against the door. A volume of smoke poured out. Regardless of it, Annette rusbed in, dragged Xcal's mother —uncon- scious as she wa3 —from the bed, out of the room and down the stairs. "Joey," gasped Annette, "Joey .W elcher—he's in there. We must save him, too." "No," interposed a distant neighbor, ' he's not in there. I saw him in the -village, running for help." During the confusion, three shadowy figures, returning as from a chase, crept through the smoke and crouched beneath bushes in the rear of the house, unnoticed and unseen. One of t'lese men turned to another. "Ponto," cried Hernandez in a low voice, "what of tho packet?—what of Lost Isle?—the fool Welcher! By this time we might have had it." Annette, seated on the ground, with Mrs. Hardin's head in her lap, watched the scene as in a dream. Her glance roved from the flames to the crowd of jostling people—and from them back to the flames again. Then suddenly her heart rose to her throat. Peering at her from the middle of>a dense mass of shrubbery, there was a face—a face with staring eyes, matted hair, and un kempt beard. She had seen that face before—and on that very road—it had once strick en terror to her heart. This time how ever, it had a far stranger effect upon her. No sooner had she caught sight of this uncanny countenance, than, un accountably she remembered some thing—the yellow packet. "My father's fortune—my father's whereabouts," she cried. She sur rendered her charge to a neighborly woman close at hand and struggled to her feet. She reached her room in comparative safety, save for the chok Neal of the Navy SHOWN IN MOVING PICTURES COLONTAT EACH WEDNESDAY AND THURSDAY Season's Greatest Movie Serial WEDNESDAY EVENING, ing In ber throat. Once there she i seized a water pitcher and drenched | herself from head to foot—then with dripping hair and clothes she felt fot and found her hiding place. She; groped for the packet. A tongue oi flame swept the window. She shut It, and the glass cracked and fell tinkling to the ground below. TbeD J she groped again. "I've got it—got it," she cried in exultAtion, and thrust the yellow pack et safely In her breast. There was a sudden crash. She flung open her ! room door. The staircase, eaten ' through with flame as its top moor- \ ings had fallen in. The hallway was alive with flame. She sprang to her j window—no thoroughfare—the whole j side wall—the side of her room—was i now ablaze. Obeying sdme instinct j Annette threw herself face downward on the floor. The air there was singu larly sweet and cool. "Somebody will come," she told her self, "somebody will come." Without the word passed that An nette had rushed into the house —was j Inside now. A huge figure leaped | into the crowd, parting it right and left and bounded into the door way of the house. Whimpering with fear, the Brute ran hither, thither, through the living room, and entered the hall —finding the staircase a mass of ruin. He leaped and clutched the landing up above. Some instinct led him to Annette's room. He saw and found her —clutched her unconscious form in his huge arms and leaped with ber to the floor beneath and, unseen, laid her unconscious form down at the feet of Mrs. Hardin. Then black, burned, and unrecognizable, he sped away into the night. Hernandez gritted his teeth. "I thought I had that brute trained," he exclaimed wrathfully, as he realized that Annette and her treasure had es caped him, "and I thought he was afraid of fire. In both I was mistaken. We must take it out of his hide, Pon to —next time he must make no mis take." SYNOPSIS. On the day of the eruption of Mount Pelee Capt. John Hardin of the steamer Princess rescues five-year-old Annette Illngton from an open boat, but Is forced to leave behind her father and hla com panions. Ilington Is assaulted by Her nandez and Ponto In a vain attempt to get papers which Illnrton has managed to send aboard the Princess with his daughter, papers proving his title to and telling the whereabouts of the lost island of Cinnabar. Ilington'k injury causes his mind to become a blank. Thirteen years elapse. Hernandes, now an opium smug gler, with Ponto. Inez, a female accom plice, and the mindless brute that ones was Ilington, come ' Seaport, where the widow of Captain K-rdln is living with her son Neal and Annette Ilington, and plot to steal the papers left to Annette by her father. Neal tries for admlasion to the Naval academy but through the treachery of Joey Welcher Is defeated by Joey and disgraced. Neal enlists In the navy- Inez sets a trap for Joey and the conspirators get him in their power. He agrees to steal the papers for them but accidentally gets lire to the Hardin home and the brute-man rescues Annette with the papers from the flames. FOURTH INSTALLMENT THE TATTERED PARCHMENT CHAPTER XVII The Return of Inez Castro. Out of that holocaust—the useless conflagration that destroyed the old Hardin cottage at Seaport—Annette saved something. She saved the links that bound the present to the past— the Identifying objects that made her one with the little child who had been saved years before from the ruin of St. Pierre. "Whatever they mean," she told her foster mother, "they'll help me find my father; they'll help me find Lost Isle. And I have a strange presentiment that I'll find him at Lost Isle and not before." They were seated, these two, in their temporary place of abode. "Who rescued me that night?" she queried. "How did I get out of the house at all; who did that?" Her foster mother shook her head. "Nobody knows, Annette," she said. She lit a small alcohol lamp under neath a tiny tea kettle. "Watch it, Annette," she said, "it's so small it may boil over." Boil over it did later, and with pe culiar consequences. Mrs. Hardin measured out a quantity of Ceylon tea, and then held out ber hand. "Let me see the map of Lost Isle again, Annette," she said. "It seems a shame we can make nothing of it" It was strange, for at first glance the map seemed quite worth while. It was traced upon an ancient piece of parchment, old and yellow. At the top was this inscription: "LOST ISLE OF CINNABAR." "Cinnabar," repeated Mrs. Hardin. "Seems to me I've heard of such an island." Annette shook her head. "I've looked it up. Cinnabar Is not a place, it's nothing but an ore." The older woman continued her (To Be Continued.) j Here I Am, Citizens! jj' MWN f n« pobluhm a ,hi. „ twlp . p „ )C less haTe undertaken. a< a matter of pub- |* lie service, the distribution, at coit »• price, of two of the greatest patriotic on booktever WTitten ' ft »urs. The American H fnunrnmnnf Ifl jaii government R TV. o" . r f H cast *"C * smiim lanai By FREDERIC J. HA SKIN K , The Boob that Show Uncle Sam Ifl sate at Work. J2 They tell in a simple, accnrate way M , the wonder story of the mighty Amer- M i the ican government and its greatest sin- M gle achievement, the Panama Canal. Both books have had official ap- |fl the P roval - are Profusely illustrated, bean- R tifully printed, and bound in heavy |A cloth. They should be in every home y° ul| g- La aste p ,< z- g ISe. about his two remarkable books, pH 1. "™ e American Government" and ► £ "The Panama Canal." |9 tars * -o ftm "On rommrnrlnj to peruse <The Iffi zzzrfSrrzsL 1 z" " in jj book before retiring. It In one of the moat valuable work. on our govern- J J "•en* that has come to my notice. atfc "RUDOLPH BLANKENBIIRG, ' "Mayor of Philadelphia.* a^ "Tour chapter on the Pan-American Union givea In a few norda a ctmpre- M (* henslve and accurate description of lta H "JOHN BARRETT, Director." "It la a k alne pleasure to commend your book, The American Government.' to the general public, who Trill And In ftlf and to oM-r thlt, too,' hrolight "d own 1^ "Chancellor, vJSJb^STSSSSS^ dge. „. d t. a-ure you that no 1 tKe T C oZ r 'cWcr" t Vn\n"' "Ex-Secretary" ot Estate." |g sand "Your book. The Panama Canal,' la delightfully written. I was Interested gfl Httu o, ;.x Tz::;;i:;;iToZz n and- •f my children who la fourteen yeara I H old and equally aa much by the other you who '• te »- Ifl -I wish the book could be placed In Ki r:. r tidJ ■my ° Ur "T ZIESTOX, I'resident, "Virginia Polytechnic Infttltute." Ia you MI "I have carefully (tone your i me. ut * atyle that will appeal to all. I have I*" n. I read all available canal literature, and I I conatder your work far superior to tbe other hooka. It la the kind of . book one will read again and again Hnd band down to hla children. "Quarantine Officer, Chrlstoba!." Q ns to "The Panama Canal" la both Inter- I iiwart ::r,t". d o ,n .v r trL v e e t to spi cu . .rth7"p";,: tj itV. ot *"*«»< appreciate more than do .ur people the great opportunities which IS Op- the Panama Canal opens up. ; . he " JOU itizen L £3 ft* more wtoGetTheseßooks I* ie . an " All that is re- M srican quired is one W hard d\ c P u ° ° n . cut \m >f the \£ £* Of m thi S IS news 6 S that paper, and 98 If 4' 1 can- %J the'cos* o of° pro- Q e and duction and H >r the handling. J the Fifteen Cents Extra if Sent by Mail || That Show Uncle Sam At l| •I work, Uiip the Coupon Printed On Another Page J< m* H *-*-***•** .** ar w * ** jr*** * nwwww vjfi HA RRISBURG TELEGRAPH OCTOBER 6, 1915
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers