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
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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.)
To Offer No More Than Is To]
Be Had Elsewhere Would Not I
Entitle Us To Your Preference I
|t If our stock were no larger I
than others show —if our goods were I
no more desirable —if our prices were i
no lower—if we took no greater in- I
terest in our customers —if our Satisfaction
Guarantee were no broader —we would have no
excuse for asking any man go out of his way to I
It's because we do of- There is another fac- J
fer more than is to be had tor which enters into the
elsewhere, that so many conduct of this business. It
thousands of men, who know is a very personal one —
values and have a pretty Ambition. We place it far
clear conception of the work above mere money making,
of a dollar, have become Our ambition is to build the
enthusiastic boosters for largest Clothing business in
this Live Store. We have Pennsylvania, but we re- g
spoken several times of how a * ize w ?, can , ** ever 1
r . . accomplish this without the hearty II
it .8 possible for u. to g.ve you more Bupport of pubUc _ granted Qnly g
for your money than you have been because we deserve it, through sheer
in the habit of getting—how our merit in merchandise, fair and
position as large operators gives us square dealing, and greater value- H
many advantages in your favor. giving.
Come in tomorrow, or any day. See this 1
magnificent great store, the tremendous stock of Good Clothes,
the house of kuppenheimer Furnishings and Sweaters, the fair prices at which they
are selling, and then—buy where you please.
I THIS IS THE HOME OF THE OVERCOAT |
I G TvS T r d j $15.00, $20.00, 25.00
Adlers Gloves for Men. Bates Street Shirts Sw6clt6rs 3-11 Prices
I SI.OO, $1.50 $1.50 and Styles I
I 304 MARKET STREET HARRISBURG, PA.
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<i last night, from heart failure.
Mrs. Baer was stricken a weeg ago,
and while her condition has been seri
ous the family entertained no fears
for her recovery.
Yesterday, however, she suffered a
violent attack and the family, hastily
summoned Doctor Stengel, a Phila
delphia specialist. At hea bedside
were her five daughters, Mrs. "William
N. Appel. Lancaster; Mrs. William
Griscom Coxe, Wilmington: Mrs. Rollo
Knapp, Wisconsin: Mrs. Heber Smith
and Mrs. Isaac Hiester, of this city.
Mrs. Baer was 75 years old.
KILLED WHILE PICKIIXG COAL
Sfecial to The Telegraph
Lebanon. Pa., Oct. 22. —Yesterday
Mary A. Gibson, aged 70, was run
over by a freight shifter and her head,
arms and legs severed from the trunk.
The aged woman was bcnc-ath a car
picking coal when an engine was
coupled to the car.
EDCRATIOKAL
School of Commerce
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Day and Night School
Sept. 7, 1915
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Call or send to-day for Interesting
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