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: FRANCIS LYRDE H
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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
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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 <ion't talk like that*"
"There's no need to talk about it.
darling." he murmured, because
you know the truth. You are mine,
and nobody shall ever come between
us."
He had risen and now took a step
toward me. but I evaded him and
walked to the edge of the veranda.
I saw with relief that Tom and
Hugh were strolling up the path.
They had not seen us yet.
"Here come the boys—" I began
lamely.
But my companion seized my
hand. "I won't be put off like this,
Elisabeth!" he Insisted. "I am risk-
ing all for you. I said I would wait I
—and I have waited—as long as 1 I
can. It has been harder than I even |
fancied it would be. .Now I must ,
know the truth. Others need not |
know it until you are willing they
should. Will you promise to marry J
me?"
"I will promise—to try—," I |
stammered, "but—"
"A half promise is better than j
none!" he exclaimed harshly. "I •
f SAVE THE FRUIT CROP ]
I We said this LAST YEAR—
■ We say it again !
1 This is a year for thrift and service. We must
feed not only our own people, but also millions in j
Europe. The frightful waste of fruit is a national
reproach. Help stop this unpardonable extravagance.
The fruit we waste would feed Belgium.
I United States Government urges preserving as a home
A duty. Preserved fruits are energizing and nourishing. They I
I vary your menus. They reduce the cost of your table.
?|5 • jEI
America's canning and preserving industries are models for
the world. Their products are pure, appetizing and wholesome.
Support them.
I If you preserve at home, put up more fruit than ever before. I
I Get jars and glasses, bottles and crocks ready to save the fruit
crop. Put away dried vegetables. The American housewife
who practices thrift places herself in ranks of those who
serve their country.
You can show your thrift in no more convincing way than
I by combating the national tendency to squander this country's '
wonderful fruit crop. Whether you buy preserved fruits from
I your grocer or preserve at home you perform a service to your
own family and to the Nation. j
I Franklin Sugar Refining Company
I "A Franklin Sugar for every use 99
Granulated, Dainty Lumps, Powdered, Confectioners, Brown
Franklin Sugar is sold in 2 and 5 lb. cartons and in 2, 5, 10, 25 and 50 lb. cotton bags I
■ The increased cost of preserving because of the higher price of sugar is less than the increased |
I cost of most other foods
know you well enough to be sure
you would not break even a half
| promise that you had made in all
i sincerity."
What could I say? What could I
] do? The boys were almost here. I
j snatched away my hand from his
' grasp, and at that instant Hugh
Parker looked up and saw the ac
tion.
1 A swift change passed over his
JUNE 13, 1917. 1
face, but it was gone so quickly j
that I thought later 1 must have
imagined it.
"It is going to rain," he remarked
quietly as he came up the steps.
"We have been without rain so long
that it will mean business when it
' comes.
I did not speak. I had a feeling
of being tied and bound.
(To Be Continued)
WOMAN, 70. DIKS PICKING
STRAWBERRIES TO DO HER BIT
Dagsboro, Del., June 13. —While,
picking strawberries, in the field
Mrs. Basha West, 70, was suddenly
stricken with deatii.
Mrs. West had been warned not to
pick berries, but declared she want
ed to do what she could for her
country by helping to harvest th®
crops.
7