" When a Girl Marries" By ANN LISLE A New, Romantic Serial Dealing With the Absorbing Problem of a Girl Wife (Copyright, 1919. King Feature Syn dicate, Inc.) CHAPTER CCCLIII. "Can I be sure that the man they burned was my father?" I repeated after Father Andrew. "Why it was —surely—wasn't it?" "That's what we can't prove un less you saw him, unless you're sure," said Father Andrew. "Your mother thought it was. But there is a man alive t6-day who claims to be your father. He says the man who was killed in the railroad wreck was'nt Lucky Lee at all—" "But the clothes," 1 interrupted. "I saw them. X knew them. The coat the reporter made me touch was one I'd seen my father wear. ' "I'm afraid that proves nothing," replied the man I had thought of as my father through all the young years. "He had otner suits. He might have given the one you saw to a pal who was in hard luck. You remember that the money he had won wasn't in his possesion when they brought the body home to you." "Yes, I remember that," I mur mured, wondering where all this was leading us. "But we thought he had been robbed." "I know. dear. My Martha told me that. But you don't know that he was robbed. You can't prove it." "You mean that I can't prove it in a court of law that the body we buried was my father's? You mean that I can't disprove the claim of anyone who chooses to say he's my father?" Father Andrew shook his head sgadly. "You speak bitterly, dear," he said. "I feel bitter!" X cried. "I don't want the ghost of a disreputable past rising now. I have nothing for which to love or to revere my father. X had a starved childhood. Red plush and shameful affluence one week. The hall bedrooms of cheap boarding houses the next. And my poor little mother's shame and sadness through it all. Then death released me. And soon you came. I grew to think of you as my father. I'm proud to think of you as my father." "Barbara Anne, you'll always be my little girl, no matter what hap pens. No other man's claim can make you stop being my daughter. But have you thought what may be the condition of the man who brought you into the world?" "Is he poor?" I gasped. "Yes, dear. Poor and old. And he says in his need he heard of you, the daughter out of whose life he went because he felt he was de grading it. If this man actually did that much for you once, can you deny his claim on you now?" asked Father Andrew gently. "It this is my father, then when he pretended to die he deliberately left us to starve," I replied bitterly. "He had the money he won at the races. He didn't even share that with us—" Then the most terrible shame surged up from my heart and I cried: "Oh, what am I saying? It doesn't matter what he did. You say he's poor and old. And I have so much. If this is my father, Jim, I will help him. He must be taken care of. We'll do everything—Per haps I ought to go to Canada with Where Can I Find Relief From Itching, Terrifying Eczema? This Question Is Ever on the Lips of the Afflicted Eczema, Tetter, Erysipelas, and other terrifying conditions of the skin, are deep-seated blood troubles, and applications of salves, lotions and washes can only afford tempo rary relief, without reaching the real seat of the trouble. But just because local treatment has done you no good, there is no reason to despair. You simply have not sought the proper treatment, that is within your reach. You have the experience of others —— STECKLEY'S DISTINCTIVE FOOTWEAR Varied and Extensive Lines of Stylish Models tSpK For Ladies and Misses ik When you come to this large, - m wf modern Shoe Store you are not con- W Wf fined to one or perhaps a couple of M/W special lines—here you have the products of a number of reputable Impjy manufacturers to choose from. You /jfcy jwjy 4 have wider range in making selec- fir Mp tions. You are sure to be benefitted w in quality—style—and a big saving in price. Our uptown location and other low expenses enable us to sell the usual pair of shoes for two or three dollars less than dealers ask in higher priced districts—and you are sure to get the best in quality and style every time. STECKLEY'S 1 1220 N. Third St., Near Broad. MONDAY EVENING, you. I'll do that. For you think the man in Canada is—my father, don't you?" "I'm afrand so.' agreed Father Andrew. "The telegram said so," I gasped. "Will you read it, dear?" asked Father Andrew, handing me the crumpled bit of yellow paper. I smoothed it with one hand and held it against the steering wheel of my car, which I'd drawn up in a little green cove in the roadside. Then .with blurring eyes, I read: "No money to travel. Will meet you here at shack in the woods. Long to see my daughter again. As soon as strong enough will go to her. You must provide funds and look out for me. Pretty sick yet. Team will meet you Monday. Lucius i Lucky Lee. "You wonderful man!" I cried, turning back to Father Andrew. "You're going to make sure. To spare me the first edges of the shame and humiliation —until we have to be—certain." Suddenly I broke off. The mean ing of the terrible trouble in Father Andrew's eye came over me with a flash. It wisn't pitty for me. It wasn't sorrow for himself, even though there should be some one to claim the place that had so long been his in fact as well as senti ment. There was some one else to whom all this must mean far more than it could to either of us. "Oh, Father Andrew, forgive me!" I cried. "Forgive nve." "I've nothing to forgive, Barbara Anne," he said. "No one could have expected aught different. It's only natural that you shouldn't rejoice to think that one who shamed you in life as in death has perhaps come back from the grave. He was gone and forgotten. And you were too honest, to pretend that this strange return can make you happy. You didn't try to lie to me. Why should you? I say there's nothing to forgive, and your offer to go with me is like the dear heart that's planning already to make a poor old reprobate last days happy if she finds him her kin." "I'm not asking you to forgive me for that," I said. "I'm asking you to forgive me because I for got the one to whom this means so frightfully much more than it ever can to me. Father Andrew, my heart's aching for Neal." "I dreaded the time when it would come to you," he whispered huskily. "That's why you made them promise not to be married until you return!" I said. "You want to be sure. You want me to see this man who says he's my father—and to make sure—" "I want to make certain." said Father Andrew gently, "that when I married my Martha, the sweetest woman who ever suffered through a scoundrel—l want to make sure that when she gave me Neal—there wasn't another man alive who was her husband in the sight of the law." (To he continued.) ANYTHING TO OBLIGE "What's all the racket about?" "Woman wants a song she's heard, but doesn't know the name of." "Well?" "So we're playing over everything in the shop."—Cincinnati Enquirer. who have suffered as you have to guide you to relief. No matter how terrifying the irritation, no matter how unbearable the itching and burning of the skin, S. S. S. will promptly reach the seat of the trouble. Give it a fair trial to be convinced of its efficacy. Our chief medical adviser is an authority on blood and skin disor ders, and he will take pleasure in giving you such advice as your in dividual case may need, absolutely without cost. Write to-day, de scribing your case to Medical De partment, Swift Specific Co., 252 Swift Laboratory, Atlanta, Ga. Bringing Up Father Copyright, 1919, International News Service Bp McManus THAT NEW CHAUFFEUR HIM >'D LIKE TO T -FOUENOU