NEAL of the NAVY By- WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE Author •/ "ReJ Meat*," "Running Pighi. " ''Cotipam." "Blat BacJflc, " tie. KoTcliitd from tb« Photo Play of the Bam* Nam* Produced by tho Patho Exchange, Inc. 'Cot rrUbU ISli. bj WUiiua Hamilton Osborne "We shall lose no time," said Her nandez. "Leave that to me." He turned to Inez. "What of this girl Annette?" he queried. "Has she given up the chase?" Inez shook her head. "The day after tomorrow," she returned, "we sail for the Panama canal." Two days later the Rio Grande left port for the Panama canal. When she was fairly out of sight another and qalte a different looking vessel hove into view and entered port. This latter vessel was tho cruiser Albany, seeking for something that she had not found —as yet. That day Chief Petty Officer Neal Hardin took his station on her as chief gunner's mate. CHAPTER XXXI. Forbidden Fruit. The captain of the Rio Grande found —Just at the time when he was off the coast of Dolores—that his engine had uncompromisingly broken down, and that he must put into the nearest port for repairs. "While I'm about It." he said to Hernandez, his secret passenger, "you can land your oil stoves for the in surrectos." Hernandez nodded. "Your legiti mate passengers—some of your crew," he said, "you'd best get them out of the way first —we don't want too many witnesses —the rifle cases might break open." "It's all right," said the captain, "simple enough. I'll land em in the daytime. We'll land your cargo in the night." He glanced toward shore. Sudden ly he caught Hernandez by the arm. "Yonder, senor," he exclaimed, "look —the flag of the insurrectos —it is their camp.'' Annette Ilington, startled by the ces sation of the engines, glanced out of the window of her stateroom. She woke her foster mother, Mrs. Hardin. "Land," said Annette, "look." There was not only land —there was a village—there was a big house— and there were people. Already a launch hail put off from a neat plantation dock, and inside ol twenty minutes had drawn up along side the Rio Grande. In the launch, seated comfortably an easy wicker chair, smoking a long panatela, sat a prosperous look ing Central American gentleman. At the captain's invitation he boarded the Rio Grande and looked about him. His glance was keen — he seemed to see everything at once. "You will pardon, senor capitan," he explained, "but —these are sus picious times. We look for trouble — everywhere. You see yonder hill. Somewhere in that forest lurks a revo lution. All that they need is guns, senor. Guns and ammunition. Hence my apprehension as to the Rio Grande." "My stars," exclaimed the captain, "if I'd known they wanted guns, blow me, but I'd have brought a few along.'' Aa hour later the Central American was standing on the veranda of his large plantation house, superintending the serving of iced drinks and a bit of food, to his accidental guests, Annette Ilington and her party. Annette suddenly rose to her feet. "The Rio Grande," she exclaimed, "100k —she is leaving us.'* Her host shook his head. "She is moving, on a pair of crutches—as one would say—into a quieter cove. There she will repair herself. Meantime, command me as your servants, senora —senoritas, if you please.'' The captain of the Rio Grande was clever enough to perceive that he would further disarm the suspicions of the rich plantation owner by mov ing the Rfb Grande down the coast instead of up the coast —away from rather than nearer to the insurrectos stronghold. He knew his business, did the captain of the Rio Grande. And if he didn't, he had a good direc tor, the Portuguese Hernandez. "Ah," said Hernandez that evening from the deck of the Rio Grande, "her majesty the moon." As if in answer to his exclamation, • dozen rowboats shot out of the shad ows and lined up alongside the Rio Grande. The first of these made fast —a swarthy looking insurrecto climbed the ship's ladder like a monkey. Hernandez received him. "Senor," he said, saluting. The other man grinned. "You have oil stoves for Panama." he queried. "For Panama, yes," smiled Hernan dez. "This," said the other, with another grim smile, "is Panama." "First and foremost, senor general," said Hernandez, "money down." The insurrecto counted out the cash. Hernandez thrust it into his pocket. "Senor," he said, openlug the door and giving vent to a low whistle, "I shall be glad to throw in something else with the oil stoves for Panama." Two figures appeared In the door way—entered the room. The insurrecto gazed at ono of them in amazement Then he turned to Neal of the Navy SHOWN IN MOVING PICTURES PAT ATVTT A T EACH WEDNESDAY VUIsV/il ULLf AND THURSDAY Season's Greatest Movie Serial FRIDAY EVENING, HARRISBURG Sfiii&l TELEGRAPH OCTOBER 22, 1915 Hernandez. "What will you throw In?" he quer ied. Hernandez one hand upon his breast and waved the other at his two companions. "My own services— and that of my good friend, Ponto— and this beast. We are fighters, senor. We would take pot luck with you." The tnsurrecto's eyes gleamed. "De lighted. senor," he returned. Hernandez didn't mention that he had other motives than just to help. Half an hour later the last rifle ease—the last chest cf ammunition — had been safely stowed away in the bottom of the last small boat. Then Hernandez, his companions and the insurrecto leader dropped into a launch and sped away. CHAPTER XXXII. Within Four Walla. A tattered insurrecto crept up to the leader. "General," he exclaimed In his native tongue, "there Is news— from our outposts on the shore." "What news?" queried the leader. "A cruiser has been sighted—she ia at anchor, general." "Of what nation?" "Americano," returned Hernandez, "she is of the United States —I can tell you that." "In which direction does she lie?" queried the leader. "Up the coast," returned the native Hernandez nodded. "Then, gen eral," he said, "your line of march must lie the other way—past the plan tation down below." The leader pondered. "I was bound the other way," he said. "The marines'll cut you off," re turned Hernandez, "they're after our guns—they're after us. You'll have to go this way." "You are quite right, senor," he con ceded. Hernandez beckoned him to one side. "Listen, general,'' he whispered, "I understand mine host of the planta tion is very rich. Am I right?" The leader nodded. "He has much gold somewhere hidden," he returned, "although we have tried in vain—by peaceful means—to get it." "Ho has," went on Hernandez, "some woman guests—Americans. If you find the gold, senor, you beep it. If I find it, I'll divide with you. But the Ameri can women—they belong to me." Early next morning mine host of the plantation approached his guests. "Come with me to tho wharf," he eaid. '1 have marine glasses. W® shall see what we can see." Once there he handed the glasses to Mrs. Hardin. "Senora," he ex claimed, "tell us what you perceiv® in the dim distance." Mrs. Hardin took one look and then turned a radiant face upon Annette. "It's the Albany—Neal's cruiser," she exclaimed. Annette seized the glasses. "The Albany!" she exclaimed, incredulous ly. "What is the Albany doing here —the last time we heard of her she was approaching Martinique." The planter beckoned to a servant. "Horses for the pajfy." he exclaimed. "We'll drive along the shore and visit them. 1 am partial to Americans —I get along with them." But the horses for the party did not arrive—and for good reason. Half an hour before, a plantation hand, stroll ing to work from his hut in the hills, in the cool of the morning, was set upon by half a dozen armed and drunken insurrectos. Had they been sober it would have been all up with him. As it was. he slipped nimbly out of their grasp. leaving most of his clothes behind him, and cantered yell ing down the trail. He reached the wharf more than half naked and panting for breath. He fell down at his master's feet "Insurrectos—insurrectos!" he ex claimed. The master started. "Then it was shots I heard," he said. He turned to his guests. "Come," he commanded, "there is not a moment to lose. Follow me at once." He reached the veranda and blew three shrill blasts upon a whistle. Im mediately half a hundred blacks rushed upon the scene, eyes wide with terror, but ready to obey orders. "Everybody in," he commanded. "My guestß will seek the bedrooms on the second floor." Annette touched the planter on the arm "Give me a gun," she said. "I'll do my part. When there's a fight I can't keep out, somehow." CHAPTER XXXIII. Among the Missing. Annette sank back, gasping with the smoke. The situation, to her, seemed hopeless. Inside, the ammuni tion was slowly giving out. Without, the house was surrounded on all sides jby insurrectos. She crept to the j planter's side. I "I've fired my last shot," she said. ; "Can I have more?" She got it, but ■till lingered. "Do you think you can hold the place?" she queried. (To Be Continued.) 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Northcliffe and the "Daily Mail" Ixird Xorthcliffe has been a power in British journalism for now nearly twenty years. It was on May 4. 1596, that the first issue of the Dally Mail was said In the streets of London. Its advent marked a revolution in the press not merely of the metropolis but oi the whole kingdom. Up till then a certain ponderosity had been the hall-mark of most British newspapers. They were extremely respectable, weighty and dull. They had. one might Tiave said, a temperamental distrust of liveliness as something dangerous and ensnaring. Verbatim reports of everything report able, long-winded and eminently sen tentious editorials, and stodgy columns of Parliamentary debates, filled their pages. Occasionally, some journal of unusual enterprise would send a special correspondent out to Persia or Afghan istan. would dive deeply Into the pro fundities of European politics, would oppn a subscrlptlon-llst for some semi public object, or produce a new scheme of army reform. It was a decent press and a well-informed press. It was wealthy, pontifical, respected and "lit erary." But it had an extraordinarily limited range From the every day in terests of normal men and women it slood serenely apart. It made no ef fort to reach the mass of the people who had grown to maturity since the setting 1 up of a national system of edu cation. it was suriously out of touch with the commercial life of the country. In general the appeal of the British press in those days was mainly to the educated and the fastidious. Into this easy-going and self-satisfled world there burst nineteen years ago the Dally Mall. Mr. Alfred Harmsworth, as ho then was. Its originator and chief proprietor, had already shown as a pro ducer of newspapers that he had ideas, keenness, courage and Initiative. But this was by far the biggest venture he had yet essayed. Over $2,500,000 was spent on the Initial cost of founding the Dallv Mall; two soltd years were de voted to the preparatory work; and the paper was Issued dally, complete in every respect, for nearly three months before a single copy was sold to the public. Its success wan Immediate. Small where its rivals were unwieldy, compact where they were diffuse, pub lished at one cent while they sold for two, sacrificing everything to present ing the events of the previous twenty lour hours In as .clear and as concise a form as possible, and with a news service far beyond anything that had hitherto been even attempted. It Jumped instantly Into popular favor. The dally [circulation at the end of the first was over 300,000. and at tiio end of two and a half years had passed 600,- 000; during the Boer War it reached the 1,000,000 mark, and is now, I sup pose, somewhere between J,300,000 and 1,400.000. From the nrst It has been a paper with a real individuality, going clean outside the humdrum game of pol itics. tackling the questions that inter est It with a directness the very oppo site of the gingerly, noncommittal fash lon affected by most papers, suggesting rather than echoing or criticising, and never content to hew to the hackneyed line. The Dally Mail became a national newspaper to a unique degree.—Sydney llrooks, in the North American Re view. Mrs. George F. Baer Dies at Reading Home Speeial to The Telegraph Reading. Pa., Oct. 22.—Mrs. Emily K. Baer, -widow of George F. Baer. president of the Philadelphia and Heading Railway Company, died at CA STO RIA Forlnfflitsiw!CMdrm. /V The Kin! You Havo Always Bought of her residence, Hawthorne, here at 7:3