10 "Their M arned Life" Copyright by IntexnatloiuU News Senrice "Hello," said Warren, as he stepped up to Helen in the Grand Central Sta tion. "Have I kept you watting long?" "About five minutes, but that isn't bad for you. Come on, I have the tiokets. and Warrtn led the way to ward the train. They were going out to Carrie's for dinner, and Helen had been dreading this day ever since Fred and Carrie had been in to have dinner with them; somehow she didn't mind so much en tertaining Carrie in her own home, but to go out to visit them meant an even ing of veiled remarks when she would be defenseless, because Carrie was Warren's sister, and if she resented anything Warren was sure to complain of her absurd sensitiveness. She had heard him say so often that It was no wonder she and Carrie did not get along. And then he would accuse her of having no sense of hu mor, a thing that always made her furious. In the train she looked idly out of the window, while Warren perused the paper. It was just a short run out to Carrie's, and before they knew it the rtation was reached and there was HYed in the machine with Carrie and Warren's mother In the back and little Roy in the front with his father. "Thought you'd never get here," •aid Carrie, and if Helen hasn't an other new stilt, woil, nothing 4ke being rich." Helen could 'jot heip smiling. Al ready Carrie had begun her tacMca, but thoy wero obvious enough to be amusing. Well, she would show War ren that it did uot matter to her what Carrie said. However, she was glad when they r«»ached the house and en tered the hall. "Oh, you have a new rug," she said delightedly, "when did you get It, Carrie. ? "*lt wasn't my doing, trust Fred to buy something like that. I told him he was extravagant." Helen genuinely liked Fred. He never said the caustic things that Car rie did and his kindness was always evident. She knew that he under stood Carrie's barbed remarks, for he often covered them with some hastily concocted story of his own. "Aren't you a sport, Fred?" she said gayly. "Why, you just bought one, didn't you?" "We got this one at Asburv Park," aaid Fred. "You have no idea the bargains you strike at those little auc tion places." Warren's Father Appears "Want to come upstairs and leave your things?" said Carrie; and Helen followed her sister-in-law upstairs and into the slightly severe bedroom that Helen had always disliked. When they returned downstairs Warren's father had put In an appearance, and Helen was forced to be pleasant while he made several remarks. "Seems to me we don't see much of you lately." he said. "Helen's too busy with her friends." said Carrie. "Yes. and some of them are pretty sporty lookers, too,", put In Fred, gay ly. "Who was that stunning-looking woman. Warren, you had with you last week near Times Square?" Hel-?n caught her breath suddenly and her heart began to beat suffo catingly. "What night was that?" said War ren easily. There was a hush, and Fred looked up uneasily, as though he had made a mistake. There was no help for it now, however; he would have to go on. "Well, now, let me see," he said musingly, "last Monday night, I think It was." Monday night was Warren's His Favorite Winter Breakfast! Nothing so good as piping hot buckwheat cakes I Made with Aunt Jemima's BnckwV- Cake Flour— the only flour that has the milk '—they are . BO light, so tender and good, tb. in your mouth. So Easy to Make Just stir in cold water, and they are ready for the griddle. The sweet milk mixed in Aunt Jemima's Buck wheat Flour, In powdered form, gives that delicious flavor that you can get only in Aunt Jemima's Buckwheat Cakes. Have your grocer 6end a package today. (^AuntJemima's s t@BUCKWHEATCAKE FLOUR "Made in a minute— the milk*s mixed in it" Lehigh Valley Coal Sales Co s. LEHIGH COAL HIGHEST IN QUALITY AND IX PREPARATION The coal that cheers and satisfies, Rives comfort and brings content ment. GET IT FROM YOUR DEALER—THE COAL WE SHIP. Mind you! There isn't anything "just as good." D. W. Cox & Co., Shippers, Harrisburg, Pa. Also shippers of Standard Wiikcs-Barre, Schuylkill and Shamokin coals. Bituminous. TUESDAY TCVENTNC?, lodge night, and Frances had seen him at Times Square. What could It mean? Every one was looking at Warren, and he laughed, although a flush crept i up over his face. "Discovered." he said, dramatically, | "and by my family. ■ Well, It's a: great secret and for the lady's sake I must not divulge her identity. Isn't that what they always say In the' plays?" Helen looked at Warren warily, j His air of bravado deceived no one. j She looked up and met Carrie's eyes j fixed on her coldly. It came to Helen , with a flash of Intuition that Carrie ] would be glad of any unhapplness| that might be In store for Warren's wife, even Warren's mother would sympathize with her son and she would have no one. Why did the fam ily dislike her so? Carrie excused herself a minute later to see about dinner, and little Hoy came ovei and leaned against her knee—he adored his Aunt Helen and she loved him, although he was frightfully spoiled. "Tell me a story," he begged. The tension was happily relieved at that momen, and Helen lifhted him on her knee and began the Btory of the three bears. When Carrie came In a few minutes later Roy was having too g;>od a time to leave. "I don't want to go to bed," he whined, and when Carrie took htm by the arm none too geutly he pro tested, and, lying down on the floor, began to yell lurtlly. None of that, young mar." o«."d Fred striding over srid seizing the sob bing child. "You go upstairs like a man or we wt>n't have thei party 1 was telling you aiout." "I want Aunt ileien to tell m<« a story," he cried. "Some other time, dear," said Hel en, trying to pacify him. The Trouble Begins "Now." shrieked Roy. "Carrie, will you let me take him upstairs?" said Helen, conscious that she would be blamed for this display of temper. "What for? He might as well learn first as last that he has to mind." "Is that what you do for Winifred '.'" said Warren's mother; "no wonder she is spoiled." "I don't think she is spoiled." re torted Helen. "Winifred goes to bed long before this, anyway." As soon as she had made this re mark Helen knew that it was the wrong one; why had she said it? "I suppose that means that Roy should have been put to bed long ago," said Carrie frigidly. Helen with very pink cheeks de termined to finish the conversation as long as things were going that way. "Well," she said. "Roy isn't any older than Winifred, and I have al ways believed that children should be in bed before six." "Indeed," sniffed Carrie. "Well, at least Roy isn't too good for public school If he Isn't in bed at ti o'clock." Warren's mother smiled delightedly, and at this point Roy began to scream again. Carrie with scant ceremony took the child from the room and when she returned dinner was eaten in comparative silence. Helen with a full heart hardly knew how she forced down anything. S*ie avoided Warren's eyes as though she were ashamed to look at him and prayed inwardly that they might get away early. She nrust know ahout this thing one way or another or she would surely go mad. Would the time never pass? (Another incident In this series of married life will appear here soon.) Neal of th Bp WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE Author of "Red Mouse," Novelized from the Photo Play "Running Fight," "Cats- of the Same Name Produced paw," "Blue Buckle," etc. by the Pathe Exchange, Inc. (Gopjri (la, ISllh bj w " T-—""-"* ifcboioai He was quite right. Some three quarters of an hour later Inez and her small party passed that very spot—a ■pot now deserted. Suddenly twenty-five American ma rineo with drawn bayonets sprang from the jungle as by magic and sur rounded them. Inez, excellent actress, breathed an audible sigh of relief. "At last," she said, "we have found you." The ensign advanced toward her and Baluted. He glanced doubtfully at the half-dozen tnsurreotos wearing uniforms. "Who are you?" he demanded of Inez. "Thece." said Inez, with a wave of her hand, "are Dolores regulars who have befriended us, and we are threo Americans, and one of us la sick. It is for her that we seek refuge." He strode swiftly to the aide of Mrs. Hordln. She was swaying helplessly from side to side In the saddle of her donkey, supported by two insurrecto escorts. "Neal, Neal," sho cried. Inez discounted and approached the officer. "She has the fever," she ex claimed, "and she raves In her speech all the time, lieutenant; she make 3 up names—all kinds <jf names." "There are ether Americans In the mountains?" he queried. Inez opened wide her eyes and shook her head. "We saw none, sir," ■he said. The ensign pondered. "This woman needs Immediate attention. Take her to the launch and thence to the Al bany." He bowed to Inez and beck oned to Joe Welcher. "You two must go along," he said soberly. CHAPTER XXXVI. Corazon dei Sol. After a march of hours in the very thickest of the jungle, Hernandez halt ed his band of insurrectos. The re spite was welcomed. Exhaustion reigned sugreme. Hernandez picked out two of the sleeker looking revo lutionists. "This trail," he said to them, "has been lately traveled. See where it leads." Hernandez went back to his cap tives. He carried with him thick pieces of bread. He unloosed the bandages from their eyes. "Mine hostages." he said lightly, "eat, drink and be merry." Three miles further on there was a clearing in the Jungle. Across this clearing was an ancient gateway and a crumbling stone wall, older than his toric man himself. Two unprepossess ing stolid stone figures guarded this gateway. A third guard now entered the foreground and passed through the ancient ruined gateway. He was a living guard, but of a dead race. He was an Aztec. He had heard noises and he had come out to see as well as to hear. And suddenly he saw and was seen in turn. Wriggling through the por tions of the edge of the clearing sud denly appeared the two scouts sent forward by Hernandez. They crouched there, staring speechlessly at the Aztec warrior. He in his turn stared speechlessly at them. But they had seen more than he had. They had caught a glimpse through that gateway of a mass of leaping, twisting flame, and they knew it for the thing It was. An hour later, panting, breathless, with their tongues hanging out and their eyes still wide with terror, they crept up to Hernandez and clutched him by the arms. "Corazon del Sol," they cried, their faces twisted with terror. Ponto heard them. His eyes gleamed with sudden interest. He waddled to the side of Hernandez and nodded under3tandingly, "Corazon del Sol." repeated Hernan dez. "The Heart of the Sun." Ponto nodded again. "The Heart of the Sun," he repeated. "Well, what of It?" asked Hernan dez. "The lost tribe," whispered the scouts. "The Aztecs. Come," they cried, "we have no time to lose. They will be upon us. Fly." Hernandez gripped each man by the ■wrist. "Speak, Ponto," he demanded. Ponto tapped himself upon his chest. "I am of Aztec blood myself," he said. '1 have heard of this lost tribe. I have heard of this city of Corazon del Sol. Many assume it to be a myth, senor, but it is no myth." Hernandez nodded. "How many In habitants of Corazon del Sol?" he Queried. "Tradition has tt," said Ponto, "that It Is a town surrounded by a wall and that its population never increases." He smiled grimly. "What human be ings it does not need, it feedß to the Heart of the Sun—the flame." "It will feed all of us to the flame," cried the scouts. "We must go back back." Hernandez leered. "Ponto," he said, "in front of us, according to these in surrectos, is a fiery furnace with a mil lion foes. Behind us. camping on our Neal of the Navy SHOWN IN MOVING PICTURES PflT ATVTT A T EACH WEDNESDAY V/UJUUlllil.L' AND THURSDAY Season's Greatest Movie Serial tIARRISBURG TELEGRAPH trail somewhere. Is a handful of Ameri can marines. Which do you choose?" "Forward." said Ponto, "to the fiery furnace. Deliver me from a handful cf marines." CHAPTER XXXVII. The Anger of a God. Within the walls of Corazon del Sol there lived a god. He didn't know he lived —he wcs quite ignorant of hiß own existence. If he had ever lived he would have died from ugliness. But there were those who knew he lived. They were the inhabitants of this ancient Aztec village—Corazon del Sol. the Heart of the Sun. They knew he lived, because periodically and quite persistently he demanded i fiesh. Just now he stared straight before him through the gates of the crum bling walls. The high priest followed his glance. Suddenly tte hljh priest started and i held high his hand. A group of Aztec warriors answered the summons. In crude uneven order this crowd rushed i through the gates and stood at bay. Across the clearing was another group —Hernandez and his crowd. The two groups faced each other, tense, won i dering. The high priest spoke—uttering un intelligible Jargon. Hernandez turned to Ponto. 'What does this old devil say?" he i demanded. Ponto was panting with terror. "He says," said Ponto, "that he wants to talk to you." Hernandez pondered for a moment j and toyed with the weapon in hit hand. Then he crossed the clearing and faced the high priest. Ponto from hia vantage point of comparative safety translated in thin high-strung tones. "You are interlopers," said the priest angrily, his cruel eyes watching i ' Annette Was Watching With Eyes Wide With Terror. the terror he Inspired, "and you shall be destroyed. Behind me is Are, sud den death. We have many thousand warriors. We have an insatiable god. We brook no strangers—we tolerate no enemies. You are an enemy, you and yours. Go, and go at once." "We are not enemies," returned Her nandez. "We are travelers—weary travelers. We have lost our way. Wo need rest and food. To turn back now means death." The high priest shrugged his shoul ders. "Follow me," he said. He turned and passed between the divided group of warriors and entered the gate. Hernandez followed, entering the walls three paces behind the priest. He led Hernandez to the center at the village. With a long, lean, skinny finger, the high priest pointed to the sun god. He prostrated himself, then rose and gave a sharp command. Two Aztecs, clad in scarlet robes, darted forward, each with a burning brand raised high t above his head. Before Hernandez was a pit sunk into the ground. It was piled high with fuel and from this pit there rose quite a familiar odor — the odor of petroleum. In went the burning brands and in the twinkling of pn eye the fuel caught fire and a ! leaping, twisting flame sprang Into | the air. , j Hernandez drew back. The flame ! was hot. It grew hotter as he watched. In a few moments It vras a l ; seething, roaring furnace. Hernandez stood with folded arms. The priest swooped down upon i him and denounced him In withering jargon. Hernandez knew what it ' meant. It meant that they were to go. "Ponto," he cried, "come here." Ponto, quivering, crept through the , double line of Aztec warriors and ■ through the gate. Hernandez Jerked his head toward the priest. (To Be Continued.) 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