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Copyright by Chaa. Scribner's Sons
(Continued)
"Yes, and when I got there the
colonel was shut up in Williams' of
fice with a fellow named Smith.
When I pot a place to listen in they
were getting ready to quit, and the
colonel was saying: 'That settles it,
Smith; you've got to come over into'
—I didn't catch the name of the
place—'and help us.' "
Apain the gentleman with the
sharp jaw took time for narrow-eyed
reflection.
"You'll have to switch over from
the colonel to this fellow Smith for
the present, Shaw," he decided, at
length. "You look him up and do it
quick."
The young man glanced up with a
faint warming of avarice in his sleepy
eyes. "It'll most likely run into money
—for expenses," he suggested.
"For graft, you mean," snapped
Stanton. Then he had it out with this
second subordinate in crisp English.
"I'm onto you with both feet, Shaw;
every crook and turn of you. More
than that, I know why you were fired
out of Maxwell's office; you've pot
sticky finpers. That's all ripht with
me up to a certain point, but bevon-1
that point you pet off. Understand?"
Shaw made no answer in direct
terms, but if his employer had been
watching the heavy-lidded eyes, he
might have seen in them the shadow
of a thinp much moredanperous than
plain dishonesty; a passing shadow of
the fear that makes for treachery
when the sharp need for self-protec
tion arises.
"I'll try to find out about the hobo"
he said, with fair enough lip-loyalty,
and after he had rolled a fresh cigar
ette ho went away to bepin the min
ing operations which miphi promise
to unearth Smith's record.
It was ten o'clock when Shaw left
the real-estate office in the Hophra
House block. Half an hour earlier
Smith had come to town with the
colonel in the roadster, and the two
had shut themselves tip in the col
onel's private room in the Timan
yoni Ditch Company's town office in
the Barker building, which was two
squares down the street from the Ho
phra House. Summoned promptly,
Martin, the bookkeeper, had brought
in his statements and balance sheets,
and the new officer, who was as yet
r \
Ad Jingles
THK GUY WITH THE PEP
There was a man of our town
And he was wondrous wise.
His store was filled with dusty
goods,
But he wouldn't advertise.
Said he, "The thing's a waste o'
time,
And a great big waste o' dough,
I've been here 50 years, b'gosh.
Ding bust, I ort.er know."
"I've made a llvin' an' got a home
And money in the bank.
This new stunt puttin' yer name
in prin.t,
Is the fool work of some crank. '
"O-yez, O-yez!" we acquiesced,
"We know you've got a rep,
But who built that biz across the
street,
But a guy with lots of pep."
"Who built that store 6 stories
high
In ten short years, at that,
And corralled the best trade in
the town?
Look, sir! Take off your hat.
Take off your hat to the hustling
lad
And don't stand there surprised.
You'd have a bigger store than
this,
If you'd have advertised."
————
Fashions of To-Day - By May Manton
f¥ ITTLE girls require pretty
and dainty underwear and
here are two garments that
are made separately but which
are buttoned together to be per
fectly comfortable and satis
factory and protective at the
same time. In the picture,
they are made of nainsook with
scalloped edges, but the drawers
can be gathered into bands
and some mothers will prefer
that treatment. If you have a
very active child to consider,
it will be well to make the under
bodice of a slightly heavier
material and to put the applied
straps, included in the pattern,
over the shoulders to serve as
stays and to make the drawers
of a thinner and lighter material,
as batiste for the drawers, muslin
for the waist.
For the 8-year size will be
needed, I% yards of material 36
inches wide for the drawers and
% yard for the under body.
The pattern No. 9271 is cut
in sizes from 2 to 12 years of age.
It will be mailed to any address
|97t Child's Drawers, with or with- by the Fashion Department of
out under-waist, 2 to 12 yean. this paper, on receipt of ten
Price IO cents. ceutt.
SATURDAY EVENING,
Bringing Up "• ™ " Copyright, 1917, International News Service • • • By McM
II i 11 I ra
i without a title, had struck out his
1 plan of campaign.
I " 'Amortization,' is the word, colo
! nel," was Smith's prompt verdict aft
| er he had gone over Martin's sum-
I maries." The best way to get at it
! now is to wipe the slate clean and
; begin over again."
The ranchman president was [
chuckling soberly.
"Once more you'll have to show
j me, John," he said. "We folks out
here in the hills are not up in the
Wall street crinkles."
"You don't know the word? It
j means to scrap the old machinery to,
| make room for the new," Smith ex
| plained. "In modern business it is the j
i process of extinguishing a corpora
tion: closing it up and burying it in I
another and bigger one, usually. That
is what we must do with Timanyoni
i Ditch." I
| "I'm getting you, a little at a time, |
! said the colonel taking his first lesson j
: in high finance as a duck takes to the ,
| water. Then he added: "It won't take,
muck of a lick to kill off the old com- ;
pany, in the shape it's got into now.
I How will you work it?"
| Smith had the plan at his finger's 1
'ends. With the daring or all the perils
| had come a fresh access of fighting 1
Try to Find Out Mirv.it the Hobo. 1
fitness that made him feel as if he
could cope with anything.
"We must close up the company's
! affairs and then reorganize promptly
| and, with just as little noise as may
I-be, form another company—which
we will call Timanyoni High Line—
and let it take over the old outfit,
1 stock, liabilities and assets entire.
You say your*present capital stock is
! one hundred thousand dollars. This
new company that I am speaking of
! will be capitalized at, say, an even
i half million. To the present holders
I of Timanyoni Ditch we'll give the new
i stock for the old, share for share,
with a bonus of twenty-five shares of
the new stock for every twenty-five
i shares of the old surrendered and
exchanged. This will be practically
giving the present shareholders two
: for one. Will that satisfy them?"
This time Colonel Dexter Bald
win's smile was grim.
"You're Just juggling now, John,
and you know it. Out here on the
I woolly edge of things a dollar is just
a plain iron dollar and you can't
make it two merely by calling it so."
"Never you mind about that," cut
in the new financier. "At two to one
for the amortization of the old com
pany we shall still have somethinp
like three hundred thousand dollars
treasury stock upon which to rea
lize for the new capital needed, and
that will be amply sufficient to com
plete the dam and the ditches and
to provide a fighting fund. Now then,
tell me this: how near can we come
to placing that treasury stock right
here in Tiinanyoni Park? It's up
to us to keep this thing in the fam
ily, so to speak: and the moment we
po into other markets we are petting
over into the enemy's country. I'm
not saying that the money couldn't
be raised in. New York; but if we
should go there, the trust would
have an underhold on us, right from
the start."
"I see," said the colonel, who was
indeed seeing many things that his
simple-hearted philosophy had never
dreamed of; and then heanswered
the direct question. "There is plenty
of money right here in the Timan
yoni." .
Smith nodded. He was getting/ his
second wind now, and the race prom
ised to be a keen joy.
"But they would have to be
'shown,' you think?" he supgested.
"All ripht; we'll proceed to show
them. Now we can come down to
present necessities. We've got to keep
the work going—and speed it up to
the limit; we ought to double Wil
liams' force at once—put on a night
shift to work by electric light."
The colonel blinked twice and
swallowed hard.
"Say, John," he said, leaning
across the table desk; "you've sure
got your nerve with you. Do you
know our present bank balance is
under five thousand dollars, and a
good part of that is owing to the ce
ment people!"
"Never mind; don't get nervous,"
was the reassuring rejoinder. "We
are going to make it bigger in a few
minutes, I hope. Who is your banker
here?"
"Dave Kinzie, of the Brewster
City National."
"Tell me a little somethinp about
Mr. Kinzie before we po down to see
him; just brief him for me as a man,
I mean."
The colonel was shaking his head
slowly.
"He's what you might call a twen
ty-ton optimist, Dave is; solid, a lit
tle slow and sure, but the biggest
boomer in the West, if you can get
him started—believes in the resource
of the country and all that. But you
can't borrow money from him with
out security, if that's what you're
aiming to do."
"Can't we," smiled the young man
j who knew banks and bankers. "I,et's
I go and see. You may introduce me to
Kinzie as your acting financial secre
tary, if you like. Now one more ques
tion: What is Kinzie's attitude to
ward Timanyoni Ditch?"
"At first he was all kinds of friend
ly; he is a stockholder in a small
way. But after a while he began to
cool down a little, and now —well, I
j don't know; I hate to think it of
I Dave, but I'm afraid he's leaning the
■ other way, toward these Eastern fel
| lows. He tried to cover Stanton's
I tracks in the stock-buying from
I Gardner and Boiling."
"That is natural, too," said Smith,
whose point of view was always un
obscured in any battle of business.
"The big company would be a better
customer for the bank than your lit
tle one could ever hope to be. X guess
that's all for the present. If you're
ready, we'll go down and face the
music."
"By Janders!" said the colonel
with an open smile; "I believe you'd
just as soon tackle a banker as to eat
your dinner; and I'd about as soon
take a horsewhipping. Come on; I'll
steer you up against Dave, but I'm
telling you right now that the steer
ing is about all you can count on
from me."
It was while they were crossing the
street together that Mr. Crawford
Stanton had his third morning call
er. a thickset, barrel-bodied man
with little piglike eyes, closely crop
ped hair, a bristling mustache, and a
wooden leg of the homemade sort.
The men of the camps called the
cripple "Pegleg" or "Blue Pete" in
differently, though not to his face.
For though the fat face was always
relaxed in' a good-natured smile, the
crippled saloonkeeper was of those
who kill with the knife.
Stanton looked up from his desk
when the pad-and-click of the crip-,
pie's step came In from the street.
"Hello, Simms," he said, in curt
greeting. "Want to see me? Sit
down."
(To Be Continued)
I
As Pure As the Lily
•nd as clear and soft. Your
skin and complexion will r'
always have a wonderful A
transparent Lily white ft/
appearance if you will
constantly use h
Gouraud's
Oriental Cream
Send 10c. tor Trial Siza
FERD T. HOPKINS & SON. Naw York
HAKRISBURG TELEGRAPH
Rotarians as They
Used to Be
Youthful pictures of Harrlsburg
Rotary Club members shown by
Photographer Roshon at a re
cent meeting.
J
m*-:
%r
This is Captain George F. Lumb,
captain of the State Police and mem
ber of the Dauphin County Bar. The
picture was made long before Cap
tain Lumb went to the Philippines
and before he had helped make the
State Police force one of the most
efficient bodies of its kind in the
United States. Captain Lumb is a
popular member of the club, and re
cently was elected vice-president by
a unanimous vote.
MERCERSBVRG CLASSIS CXOSES
Waynesboro, Pa., June 2. The
beventy-seventh annual session of
the Mercersburg Classis, held the
past several days in the Harbaugh
Reformed Church, near Pen Mar,
closed Thursday night. The Rev.
James M. Mullan, B. D., of Haiti
more, presented "Home Missions."
Twenty-five ministers and delegates
were present. These were enter
tained at the homes of members of
the Harbaugh congregation. Stand
ing committees were appointed for
the year. OJcers were chosen as fol
lows: President, the Rev. Frank S.
Fry, Shippensburg; vice-president,
the* Rev. Dr. William C. Schaeffer,
Lancaster; corresponding secretary,
the Rev. John W. Keener. Marion.
MRS. SARA T. BASEHORE DIES
Hummelstown, Pa., June 2. —Mrs.
Sara T. Baseliore, aged B7 years, died
of dropsy at the home of her son-in
law, John Wolf, on South Railroad
street, last evening. She Is survived
by one son. Funeral will be held
on Monday morning at 9 o'clock,
with burial in Hummelstown Ceme
tery.
Daily Dot Puzzle
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j: "The Insider" |||
i; By Virginia Tcrhune Van de j!
Water
CHAPTER XXIX
Copyright, 1917, Star Company.
It would have been unwise for me
to dispute with Mr. Norton about liia
buying: me the tennis racket he men
tioned. At the time, any speech on
the subject was impracticable, as
Tom was present and I knew that his
father intended him to think I was
already the. possessor of n racket
which I had left in town.
Later, however, I did say to my
employer: "You are kind to suggest
getting a racket for me. If you
can make time to get me one, I wil
be grateful and will pay you at
once."
"Don't be silly!" he said almost
sharply. "The idea of your offering
•> pay me for the thing! That's
nonsense!"
"It is business," I asserted.
"You and I are not talking busi
ness," he continued. "I get enough
of business in town without having
it out here in the country. I forbid
you to use the odious word again."
He laughed, and went back for
another sot of tennis with Torn. It
would but vex him if 1 pressed the
matter so I decided to hold my peace"
for the present.
Leaning back lazily against the
trunk of the tree, 1 read aloud to
Grace, stopping every few minutes
to discuss some point in the story
with her. When she, in her turn,
| expressed her ideas, I let my eyes
rest on the two tennis players.
! Brewster Norton was six feet tall,
and now that his coat was off 1
could see that his figure was be
ginning to develop the rotund waist
line that is so often fatal to the
grace of the middle aged American.
This increased girth was especially
noticeable by comparison with his
son's slender, boyish form.
The reading over, Grace and I
were Joined by Mrs. Gore, who ap
peared bearing several cushions and
a rug. all of which she deposited
! upon the grass before sitting down.
"I .usually sit in a chair," she re
marked, "If I come out here at all.
I have a great dread of catching
cold. Aren't you afraid to sit on
the grass as you are now doing?"
Wonderful to Be Young
"No indeed," 1 assured her. "We
have had no rain for some days, you
know, and the ground is warm from
the sunshine that has soaked into
It."
"It Is wonderful to be young!"
she sighed. Then, as her gaze wan
dered to the two tennis players, she
sighed again. "Just see how long a
man can indulge in the pastimes of
youth!" she observed. "A woman
of Brewster's age would not play
tennis."
"Oh, I think she might," I argued.
"In fact 1 have seen women of fifty
playing—and Mr. Norton is not
fifty."
"No, not yet," she assented. "But
he is forty-six. He ip young no
longer."
At this moment the subject of her
comments came toward us, mopping
the perspiration from his streaming
face with his handkerchief.
"I think I've had enough for one
day," he declared, throwing himself
on the grass. "I tell you, I had no
idea of how fat and scant of breath
I was becoming until I had to run
and jump about like a two-year
old."
"You must expect that at your
age, Brewster," Mrs. Gore reminded
him.
"Well, I don't expect it!" he re
torted. "You talk as if I were an
octogenarian, Adelaide."
"You are not that," she said
gravely, "but you are no longer
young, and It is undeniable that you
are rapidly acquiring the figure of
an elderly man."
"I'll work it off soon enough," he
asserted. "Any man. even if only
thirty years old, would get fat If
he took as little exercise as I take.
But we are going to change all
j that."
"Miss Dart!" Tom challenged from
the court, "I dare you to play me a;
game with father's racket!"
"She can't—lt's too heavy," Mr.
Norton said. "Besides, I want her
to play her first game with me."
A Hard Situation
The words slipped out as if
against his will and he stopped
awkwardly and tried to laugh the
speech aside. "I mean—we'll wait
until she has her racket. I will
bring it out to-morrow."
Mrs. Gore turned a suspicious
gance upon me. "Oh, have you a
glance upon me. "Oh, have you a
bring it with you?"
"I haven't- -I began. But Rrew.-
ter Norton interrupted me almost
roughly.
"She had no idea that she would
play tennis out here." he explained.
His interference had been too
energetic, and I knew that his
slster-tn-law was not deceived by it.
"I understand," she said dryly.
Tom began talking about the con
dition of the court. Evidently thlsi
little passage at arms had escaped
his notice, for which I was grateful.
His father answered his comments
with seeming Interest, yet I was
sure that he was conscious, as was
I, that an unwelcome Idea was
working In the widow's mind.
1 saw her look from him to me
and back again, as If by scrutinize,
Mrs. Wilson Woodrow's
Interesting Article
BY MRS. WILSON WOODROW
Dickens characterized one of the
most peculiar and invariable traits
in human nature when he endowed
his "Sairey Gamp' with her imag
inary friend, Mrs. 'Arris. This
I familiar not only was used to point
any moral Sairey wished to drive
j home and adorn cny tale she
| wished to tell, but *'iso served as a
! vehicle for exploiting her own vir-
I tues of character and sanctities of
I disposition.
But "Mrs. 'Arris" is not by any
means the particular property of a
| delightful old character in fiction,
i She is universal. In one form or
i another most of us have her proto-
I type. Most of us like to shift re
: sponsibility, to put the onus of our
! deeds on someone else, to attribute
i our sins of ommission and commis
; sion to some source outside our
selves. That's the reason the Devil
was invented. And he has proved
so satisfactory that we have gone
on and raised up other oracles.
Many women assign their hus
bands to the role of Mrs. 'Arris;
others, their doctors; some, their
preachers. Some use their parents
or children, and, except in a very
few cases, there is usually some
convenient soul In the offing whom
we quote. These pay us the com
pliments we wouldn't have the
nerve to voice as a personal esti
mate. They also pull us out of the
ditches into which we have rashly
precipitated ourselves.
Who that has belonged to any
organization has not heard at crit
ical moments: "My doctor has or
dered me away for an Immediate
rest. He says that he will not an
swer for the consequences if I bother
any more about this muddle;" or:
"My husband has simply put his foot
down. He says he feels that he and
the children are entitled to some of
my time."
There is no doubt about It, our
Mrs. 'Arrises are an Immense so
cial convenience. They get us grace
fully out of many difficult situations
and relieve us of many wearisome
obligations. Who wants to say: "I
did a low, mean, cowardly thing?"
Not you. Not 1. But if we can reflect
that the Devil, an infinitely strong
and crafty influence, is constantly
laying traps for our unwary feet,
and that at best we are weak and
fallible, it's very comforting.
Of course, no one except Billy
Sunday actually talks about the Devil
of Satan, any more. That's quite too
crude. But it's perfectly all right to
speak sadly and gravely of "the over
whelming forces of evil" and "the
downward tendencies of human na
ture." This serves the purpose just
as well.
I know my own Mrs. 'Arrises too
well to be interested in them. They're
very useful and necessary, and all
that. But it's my friends' Mrs. Arris
es that I find diverting.
I took tea with Mabel yesterday.
I fondly hoped that she would be
so interested in the many useful
articles she is knitting for the sol
diers and sailors, and in her Red
Cross work and her various relief
organizations, that, she might tem
porarily have forgotten her un
usual diseases and domestic woes,
both of which are largely fictitious.
My hopes were doomed. Presently
she leaned her head upon her hand
and fetched a deep sigh. "I don't
feel that I can endure the thoughts
of this war much longer," she said.
"I am ill over it. The strain is too
awful."
An intrepid man who was with us
looked at her critically.
"You are not in the trenches," he
said. "Your husband is too old to
be drafted and you have no son or
brother to be called on."
Mabel drew herself up with dig
nity. "You don't understand a really
sensitive nature."
I pawed in my bag and handed
over a clipping of the Trench Philo
sophy, which has been so widely
circulated.
"Read that, Mabel," I said. "It will
do you good. It easily takes the lead
in all of the 'Don't Worry' treatises.
The logic is irrefutable. It states the
case and then offers two alternatives
for every situation. For instance,
Mabel, you are either sick or well.
If you are well, you have nothing to
worry about. If you are sick, you
have two alternatives: you either get
well or die, and In either event there
is no cause to worry. How simple
and how unanswerable! How differ
ent from those maddening books
Ing us she could answer some ques
tion that was repeating itself in her
brain. I strove to appear uncon
scious. tried with all my might not
to mind.
At last she rose stiffly from the
ground. Her brother-in-law sprang
forward to help her, but she Ig
nored the hand he stretched out
toward her.
"If you will come up on the ver
anda when you are ready," she said
coldly, "you will find tea served
there."
"Thanks," Mr. Norton rejoined
with determined nonchalance.
I said nothing, but, calling Grace
to me, followed the matron. What
had her look meant? Then I checked
my speculations abruptly. Was I a
fool that such absurd fancies should
come to my mind?
(To Be Continued).
JUNE 2, 1917.
which tell us that, when our troubles
are about to overcome us, we should
po out and look at the quiet stars or
the glowinp sunset or harmonize our
selves by lisjtening to beautiful music
or by reading a great poem."
I spoke with feeling: for I've tried
those methods and they don't work.
If you're flat broke or have the
toothache, the sunsets and poems
and music are only an added irrita
tion.
It's much more soothing to scheme
out some clever way of cracking a
safe—even though you know you'll
never put it to practical application
—or some plan for removing that
frightful, steely gleam from the den
tist's instruments. 1 don't mind the
pain they inflict so much as their
awful, business-like appearance, just
as I merely bat my eyes when the
lightning flashes, but cower in ter
ror before the roll of the thunder.
A man told me recently that he
feared he was in danger of losing
a large sum of money.
"Apply Trencn Philosophy," I ad
vised. "You either will lose it or you
won't. If you don't, there is nothing
to worry about. If you do, there are
two alternatives: you either recover
your losses or you don't. If you do
recover your losses, there is nothinp
to worry about, If you don't, you
have two alternatives: you can
either be happy or miserable in your
poverty-stricken state and, having
exercised your right of choice, there
is no necessity to worry in either
case."
He gazed at me "coldly. "Did I
hear you say you had been having
toothache?" he asked for a moment.
"Oh. indeed, I have!" I cried
"The sort of a toothache that no
one else in the world ever had be
fore. Not the ordinary—"
"Very well," he interrupted. "Let
us apply Trench Philosophy to the
IwttJk. OJ QUM 4 MiWe
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Now---when
weather is gett
and it's too
heavy foods---
DRINK
MILK
the brain arid
body builder
Pasteurized in Our Own Plant
Delivered in Sterilized Bottles
Are You [
Getting |ll
Milk lllxk
From Us?
Wa
Call 26 on the Bell /v M , |/
Call 3625 on the Dial ?>°[
Penna. Milk Products Ca
matter. You have two alternatives:
you either have the tooth drawn or
you continue to suffer. If it is drawn,
you have nothing to worry about. If
you continue to suffer, you have —"
There are limits. I called upon
the first Mrs. 'Arris I could think of,
"The doctor," 1 declared menda
ciously, "says that 1 mustn't talk
about that tooth. It's bad for my
nervous system."
And the moral of all this is, that
it's easy to preach, but—well,
Trench Philosophy is worth trying,
anyway.
BKRRYSBURG SCHOOLSCLOSE
Berrysburg, Pa., June 2. Bor
ough schools closed yesterday. Miss
Pauline Derr and Prof. Hopton have
returned to their respective homes
at Hampstead and Columbia.—Miss
Carrie Metz, of town, and Glenn Co
penhaver, of Mifflin township were
married at the home'of the pastor,
the Rev. Paul Huyett.—Mrs. P. S.
Bergstresser and Miss Jeanie Weiser,
of Harrisburg, are spending some
time in Jown.- —Oheriff Caldwell and
several assistants were in town and
appointed M. K. Daniel and Henry
Witmer as registrars for this place.
-—The second boy to enlist in the
army from this town is Waldren
Lebo, son of Mr. and Mrs. Charles
Lebo. Waldren had been working
in New York for some time and
spent a day with his parents before
enlisting.—The Rev. and Mrs. Lay
ton, of Herndon, are visiting their
daughter, Mrs. Seidel.—A Christian
Kndeavor rally will be held in the
Lutheran and Reformed churches
to-morrow evening.—Miss Hazel
Deibler, of Bethlehem, is spending
a week with her parents, Mr. and
Mrs. Robert Deibler.—Miss Esther
Weaver and niece, of Steelton, ar
rived in town Tuesday.
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