UPI Readiiyf all ihc RsrgwiKi JPH !| The Real | | Nan i: I ®y 1 !: : FRANCIS LYRDE H i> < > ' ' . , 1 < > ' o i ► o I > <. !► i> > < ► [ I I I I I ► It I Illntr.tlon >T lwm HYEIS | ;: ii t k Copyright by Chna. Serlbner'a Bona (Continued) "How perfectly absurd!" was the smiling comment. "Isn't it? But you know how peo ple will talk. They are saying now that his name isn't Smith; that he has merely taken the commonest name in the category as an alias." "I can contradict that anyway," Miss Richlander offered. "His name is really and truly John Smith." "You have known him a long time, haven't you?" inquired the lady with the headlight diamonds. "Oh. yes; for quite a long time, in deed." "That was back in New York state?" Stanton slipped in. "In the East, yes. He comes of an j fc he Is an Escaped Convict." excellent family. His father's people i were well-to-do farmers, and one of his great-uncles on his mother's side was on the supreme bench in our state; he was chief justice during the later years of his life." "What state did you say?" queried Stanton craftily. But Miss Verda was far too wide-awake to let him sur prise her. "Our home state, of course. I don't believe any member of Mr. Smith's immediate family on either side has 1 ever moved out of it." Stanton gave it up for the time j being, and was convinced upon two I Fashions of To-Day - By May Manton i Of course the little girls l are wearing dresses in barrel effect because their fashions '.v always follow closely after those of their mothers. This 2 is a very simple one and you 3 can make it with the loops fx that give the broad hips or / a J' ou can make it with a plain f r V*v\ gathered skirt as you like. If I ou use P attern f° r 1 tTIjK dresses and treat one in one \ KjvrS) 4)1:1 ]£l u \UUfs\ one but yourself would suspect 1 \ that the model is the same. [/Tit]l Jl ov\\\ In the illustration, the dress II v on t^ie % ure ' s made of natural \A /o colored pongee with rings of Jig vA ue anc * t * ie k' ue is /t? 7/1 \(I used for the trimming. In /Jh 'r i >) |l the small back view, there is f m 'J\ '\ a su Sgestion for the useful JK li ©I T "S "\ gingham frock, and plain gin- N-aiff (rf)i LJ gham, in buff or gold color, is [ ]|| <4l trimmed with white. i t _ r H jj & J For t^ie 12-year size will be Kj" ff T> needed, yards of material (j jf Mi | Jj\ 36 inches wide, 3% yards 44 \ I / with yards 36 for the trim "JkV* I /ft 31\ P attern No. 9437 is cut CtJ l| Hi in sizes from Bto 14 years. It \s will bemailed to any address by the* Fashion Department of 9437 Girl's One-Piece Dress, Bto 14 this paper, on receipt of fifteen years. Price 15 cents. cents. / —— ■> The Japanese Way To Remove Corns Don't Hurt a Bit—Easy and Simple The Magic Touch of Ice-Mint Dors It. Just a Touch Stops Soreness, Then the Corn or Callous Shrivels and I4fts Off. Try It. Your Feet Will Feci Cool and line. Just a touch of Ice-mint and 1 ter how old or tough your pet corn "Oh!" what relief. Corns and call s he will shrivel right up and you louse, vanish, soreness disappears j ™ out a touch of and you can dance all night or soreness, either when applying it walk all day and your corns won t or afterwards, and it doesn't even hurt a bit. No matter what you irritate the skin, have tried or how many times Ice-mint is the real Japanese you have been disappointed here secret of fine, healthy, little feet Is a real help for you at last. From Prevents foot odors and keepa the very second that Ice-mint them cool, sweet and comfortable touches that sore, tender corn your It ls now selling like wildfire poor tired, aching feet will feel so ; here. cool, easy and comfortable that; Just ask in any drug store for a you will Just sigh with relief. I little Ice-mint and give your poor Think of it; Just a little touch of suffering, tired feet the treat of that delightful, cooling. Ice-mint their lives. There is nothing bet and real root Joy is yours. No mat- I ter. nor nothing "Just as good." V ——— WEDNESDAY EVENING, Bringing Up Father Copyright, 1917, International News Service *— By McMa I U I ][ 11 I veIUTKI h e S nv I WtoTS?4( w^ ,T ' L TO TH,NK points. Smith might have business reasons for secrecy—he might have backers who wished to remain com pletely unknown in their tight against j the big land trust; but if he had no ' backers the other hypothesis clinch ied itself instantly—he was in hiding: j he had done something from which | he had run away. It was not until after office hours that Stanton was able to reduce his I equation to its simplest terms and it j was Shaw, dropping in to make his I report after his first day's work as | clerk and stenographer in the High I>ine headquarters, who cleared the | air of at least one fog bank of doubts. "I've been through the records and the stock-books," said the spy, when, in obedience to orders, he had locked i the office door. "Smith is playing a lone hand. He flimflammed Kinzie for his first chunk of money, and after that it was easy. Every dollar ; invested in High Dine has been dug lup right here in the Timanyoni. Here's the list of stockholders." Stanton ran his eye down the string of names and swore when he j saw Maxwell's subscription of $25,- j 000. "Damn it!" he rasped; "and he's Fairbairn's own son-in-law!" "So is Starbuck, for that matter; and he's in for twenty thousand," said Shaw. "And, by the way, Bill is a man who will bear watching. He's hand-in-glove with Smith, and he's onto all of our little crooks and turns. I heard him telling Smith to-day that he owed It to the company to carry a gun." i Stanton's smile showed his teeth. "I wish he would; carry one and kill somebody with it. Then we'd j know what to do with him." The spy was rolling a cigarette and his half-closed eyes had a murderous glint in them. "Me. for instance?" he Inquired cynically. "Anybody," said Stanton absent ly. He was going over the list of stockholders again and had scarcely heard what Shaw had said. "That brings us down to business, Mr. Stanton," said the ex-railroad clerk slowly. "I'm not getting money | enough out of this to cover the risk —my risk." The man at the desk looked up I quickly. "What's that you say? By heavens, Shaw, I've spoken once, and I'll do it just this one time more; you sing small if you want to keep out of jail!" Shaw had lighted his cigarette and was edging toward the door. "Not this trip, Mr. Stanton," he said coolly. "If you've got me, I've got you. I can find two men who will go into court and swear that you paid Pete Simms money to have Smith sandbagged, that day out at Simms' place at the dam. I may have to go to jail, as you say; but I'll bet you five to one that you'll beat mo to it!" And with that he snapped the catch on the locked door and went away. Some three hours after this rather hostile clash with the least trust worthy but by far the most able of his henchmen, Crawford stanton left his wife chatting comfortably with Miss Richlander in the hotel parlors and went reluctantly to keep an appointment which he had been dreading: ever since the early after noon hour when a wire had come from Oopah directing him to meet the "Nevada Flyer" upon its arrival at Brewster. The public knew the named signed to the telegram as that of a millionaire statesman; but Stan ton knew it best as the name of a hard and not overscrupulous master. The train was whistling for the station when Stanton descended from his cab and hurried down the long platform. A white-jacketed por ter was waiting to admit him to the presence when the train came to a stand, and as he climbed into the vestibule of the luxurious private car, Stanton got what comfort he could out of the thought that the interview would necessarily be limited by the ten minutes' engine changing stop of the fast train. Stanton, ten minutes later, made a flying leap from the moving train. At the cab rank he found the motor cab which he had hired for the drive down from the hotel. Climbing in, he gave a brittle order to the chauffeur. Simultaneously a man wearing the softest of hats lounged away from his post of observation under a nearby electric pole and ran across the railroad plaza to un hitch and mount a wiry little cow pony. Once in the saddle, however, the mounted man did not hurry his horse. Having overheard Stanton's order giving, there was no need to keep the motor cab in sight as it sputtered through the streets and out out upon the backgroundling mesa, its ill-smelling course ending at a lonely roadhouse in the mesa hills on the Topaz trail. When the hired vehicle came to a stand in front of the lighted barroom of the roadhouse, Stanton gave a waiting order to the driver and went in. Of the dog-faced barkeeper he asked an abrupt question, and at the man's jerk of a thumb toward the rear, the promoter passed on and entered the private room at the back. The private room had but one oc cupant—the man Lanterby, who was sitting behind a round card table and vainly endeavoring to make one of the pair of empty whisky glasses spin in a complete circuit about a black bottle standing on the table. * * • The hired car was still waiting when Stanton went out through the barroom and gave the driver his re turn orders. And, because the night was dark, neither of the two at the car saw the man in the soft hat straighten himself up from his crouching place under the bacMroom window and vanish silently in the gloom. To Be Continued. Daily Dot Puzzle IO • * .• '. 3 1' a .1 i 4 a 4 ' • •* 48 _^n\ > lb 45. 44 17 " *7 ? 39 25-,. n iQ N* & 41 *<3B 2o '. 2t * 19 33231129 */mT 35* * l7 Fa\ 1 * w HARRISBITRG TELEGRAPH I! "The Insider" | <; By Virginia Tcrlinnc Van do |! 11 Water CHAPTER LVIII Looking back over that summer at Hillcrest it seems as If the weeks j went by, one very much like another. | until early September. The changes in my own life were occurring so gradually that I scarcely appreciated them. I know now that with each pass ing day my employer became more fixed in his determination to win my i promise to marry him, although he referred to the matter seldom. But by a thousand and one little ways he ! save proof of his devotion. He was j less critical of Tom, more gentle with Mrs. Gore, ever ready to avoid dis | oussions that might lead to sharp ! speeches, constantly suggesting some I jaunt or excursion to add to the I pleasure of the young people under his roof. Toward the end of Avgust I fan cied once or twice that he appeared more depressed or thoughtful than heretofore —as if something were worrying him. At the time I gave only a fleeting thought to the matter. Mrs. Gore was polito and agree able. Tom was happier than I had ever seen him. Grace was healthier ,an,d merrier than ever. Hugh Parker was —Hugh Parker. I I find myself obliged to end the I above sentence in that way. For I now, in the light of after events, I j cannot say just how he affected me in those days. I only know that X I grew to depend more and more upon | his friendship, and I began to look for a certain expression that came : into his eyes when we met. I almost feared that my employer might see it, too. With that thought I had a sense of guilt. But, I argued, I could not help the state of affairs. I must be myself. I was not cheatir.g my em ployer, and surely I was nothing es.pecial to Hugh Parker. Why should I be? Why should I flatter myself that I was anything more to him than an agreeable acquaintance? I avoided speculation on the subject when I could. Sufficient unto the day was the decision I must make, I pleaded with my conscience. Any way, Hugh did not care for me. My complacency was shaken one warm Sunday afternoon when, as I sat on the veranda, reading, my em ployer came out of the house. "Where's Grace?" he asked. Grace Is Asleep "Asleep In the library." I replied, nodding toward the darkened room behind me. "The heat has made her drowsy. It was so warm upstairs that she and I came down here, and when I began to read aloud to her, she actually nodded. So I sug gested her lying down in there where it's cool and dark —and she went right off to sleep." Brewster Norton took a'chair next to mine. I loaked at htm keenly a* he sat down. I noticed, as I had be fore, that his hair was graying fast and that the lines running from the nose to the corners of the mouth were deeper than they used to be. Something was weighing upon him. Could it be the uncertainty as to my answer to his plea ? "You ought to feel very proud when you see how the little girl de pends upon you," he said softly, that he might not arouse the child. "She could not get along without you. Eliaabeth." "Oh. yes," I said quickly, "she cculd." "Indeed she could not," he con tradicted. "any more than her fa ther could. I sometime? think that if I were to lose you, dear, I would die." "Oh." I protested, "please do not feel like that!" It was a foolish request:' but he did not'smile.. "I cannot help It." he declared "Moreover," setting his jaw grimly, "I do not mean to help it. I am go ing to win out in this thing, no mat ter what happens, "I must have your promise, Elizabeth. I can't stand this uncertainty any longer. Say you will marry me!" "I—l—can't promise." I faltered "You see, I don't think that I love you enough" "I am satisfied with anything you will give me!" he interrupted tem pestuously. "I must be sure of vou Elizabeth. I won't wait for the love that may come. I'll make it come— that's all. And I mean to claim you as mine. You may not eonslder your self bound to me, but I am bound to you—and you can't help it." I felt suffocated. The air was be coming more sultry,, and I stood up with a gasp, Mr. Norton Ts Affectionate "Oh!" T ejaculated. "I can't breathe! Please