VOX,. XXXIII
flllOAltnn'o FALL AND WINTER SHOES
If J) All Ready l-'or Your Careful
Inspection.
WE SHOW YOU
More Stylish, Servicable. Lower Priced Footwear
Than Any Other Shoe House in Town Besides
The Greatest Variety to Chose From.
You can examine every particle that goes to make this line of Shoes from the
bottom up. We show them in every style of toe—Bui Dog. Razor, Needle and Lon
don, Double Sole and Extension Kdge. They arc up-to-date. Patent Leather,
Enamel, Cordovan, Willow Tan Calf
Besides this line our Men's Working and _
Dress Shoes at ft.oo, }i 50, #2.00 and
$ 2 -5 n are great values and find ready sale. _
Boys and Girls Sctool Shoes —Made
strong, servicable, stylish, heel or spring. f'/
They are water and cold resisters; they will \»».
carry a boy or girl a long road to schoo . \ 1
We have them in oil grain, kangaroo, box \*
and crack-proof calf, kip, unlined, veal calf, f ' 1
in butto.i and lace, at 75c, fi.oo, #1.25, fi.4o, if /7&mk _ 4j-%-
and 1.50.
Ladies Fine Shoes in all the newest last--,
all widths,at 85c, |i.oo, $1.25, $1.50, $2.00. - \ "t
$2-5° °o. See our welts, heavy soles, at . V /.
<2OO , 50a „,i; 3 .00. v M
. La'.i . Warm Shoes and Slippers, flannel \ !' ]■ |(W I 1'
lined, at 45c, 50c, 75c, SI.OO and #1.25. U j-lljM' j'') II i'tf
They Crumbs of Comfort. \>*~* 1 //
!Me 1 -s .ind Hij's' Bjoti and Heavy Shoes ~f
high or low instep, box to-; or plain. Men's
a ' 75-> s'.oo $1.25, 51.50, 52.00 and {2.50 •
Boys' at 75c, Jl.oo, #1.25 and $1.50.
If y< u var.t good, servicable Footwear >1 une price and
w here ycur dollar will buy as much as your
ntighl cr's dollar'will, go to
-H-Bntler's Leading Shoe Honse-tt-
Opp. Hotel Lowry.
B. C. HUSELTON.
Faultless, Every One
V . - ■ /■ ~" T " "
f&'l our sho< 'S are faultless in materia , in
j ''l wor^"nans '"P an( ' 1,1 style. Our customers, and
| tl]eir nuniber J? rcw each day, find no fault
with the prices we ask for reliable footwear.
// ujMjd \I Am Going to Offer
>r|Ejj ** Some Record
M F \Tft Mens' Fine Shoes, Lace or Ccngress «.
Itl JDIX o Mensj;Working Shoes ? *3
O. ii/mi, , Mens Box toe * hoes (double soie and tap I*3
Sn X 1 ( ) PiSs Mens Heavy Beaver Bals .' 'fl
Mens Heavy sole waterproof C0rd0van5..'.''.'.......".'.'.'.*, i.^J
T , A Fll IT Q ' a(lies vv 'aterproof Oil Grain Shoes «! no
-LixV UlLij Ladies Kangaroo Calf Shoe Ssc
Ct TT/\nn Ladies Fine Dongola Button Shoes qoc
hllOhS Ladies Warm Lined Shoes i Leather trimmed ."" 80c
■w j. kj Ladies Warm Lined Shoes (Leather trimmed) 50c
Boys Fine Shoes in all the late style toes l U t
Hoys Working Shoes
JjU 1 □ vA-gm.6^ — IM|
CjTT \ 171 Qj We have on hand 42 pair Boys heavy grain waterproof
IJII v / |J shoes, double sole and tip on toe, Sizes 13, 1 and 2
which we boiyjht cheap, and will sell at 50c per pair
they are fully worth fi.oo. Call early for this lot will
not last long.
MISSES Blisses Fine Dongola Shoes si.oc|
r<TT „ IMisses Crack-proof Shoes 1.00
-| I I h. Si IMisses Heavy Oil Grain Shoes, waterproof 85c
UIIV/UO IMisses Satin Calf Shoes .. 85c
Our stock of felt boots and rubber goods is very large,
and prices are the lowest. Examine our stock before
you buy, it will pay you.
JOHN BICKEL,
128 South Main St, Butler Pa.
Anf Friday, Saturday, onday,
15, 16, 18,
SPECIAL SALE OF
FINE MILLINERY!
\ Bonnets at $3.00. $4.00 and $5.00 Worth *5.00, $6.00, and *7.00. \
\ '^• 00 *7'°° and $9.00 Worth *7.00, -9.00 and $12.00. r
/ Chudrens Hats $1.50, #2.25 and $3.00 Worth $2.00, 52.-5 and $3.75. f
Ladies Natural Wool Underwear at 75c
the kind you have been paying $l.O > for.
M. F. & M. MARKS,
113 toji7 South Main Street, Butler, Pi.
T. H. Burton T. H. Burton
There is a Difference of Opinion ;But Herelsa Landslide,
Regarding the when they vote
proper man for cn the best place
''resident. to trade
WHICH WAY ARE YOU HEADING?
Not in Politics—but where are you going to do you fall buying?
foil WtiDl the Best and Most for im Money, Don't Yon?
You can get it. We give it.
and
/ Furnishing Goods. (
.'All departments complete and well stocked with
Tiio IfeiYtri Sij i6>, tlic tiiid (jiiiiiiis mill te for tlie Money
r» i^ iS? i A c han ! titUeS a"' 1 ou/P'-'ces demonstrate how bad we want business. '
Political Speakers Are Wrangling Over the Ba-is of Values
So:ne in and get our prices and we will show you the liasis of Value? in our line in
side of a minute
WE have a complete assortment of splendid goods
They are yours at prices that will make our competitors of this sale as tie
of '^6
{Twill bejturning down good Bargains if you don't .Icome.
T. H. Burton T. H. Burton
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
Liver Ills
Like biliousness, dyspepsia, headache, cor. ti
;ation, sour stomach, indigestion are promptly
cured by Hood's Pills. They do their work
Hood's
easily ami thoroughly. ■ ■ ■
Best after dinner pills. 111
25 cents. All druggists. I 1119
Prepared by C. I. Hood & Co., Lowell, Mass.
The only Pill to take with Hood's Sarsaparilla.
RAILKOf'D IIV'! TA i, S
PENNSYLVANIA
Weslirn Pennsylvania Division.
ScWlnle in vfleet Nov. 10 lbtW
South. Week Days
A. Si. A. >1 A. M. P. si. P »l
Bitlkr Leaveca *uo 11 2U 2 4
Saxonburu. Arr.ucw- -as u 4.; 3in g
duller Jc'i.. • "27 .. *> ij u7 :s 3 • 5".
Huller.li'f. * my g , 553
Natrona.. ..Arrive; :••.-» s'22l :n, < „
l.irt-UIUtl: '.4 •£ WO': 12 2l» 352 (■ tl
AprliiL'dali To ie 12 3k to"
Clareruont u -3 4 )t?
Sharysbdrv •ir f-ai loi 422 « "
ty XlO <11;< 115 434 1,43
a. j! a. w. ». u I-. ji r x
MJSI'AI THAI NX r.<av( Jioil.-r !or All.—
-lit tr\ < lly Hial r: ln.'j ii lui ei bieolate to*
T:4> A. V.. *>:<o f.lifl 5 * o I*. *l. v
Norlb. Week'>::}«-»•
» ». A. »i. A. *l. p. si. p, M
All'ghei,.* City..l.l TOO li-J.". 235 5 .t,
l.irrmonl 3I» 1145 2tß ...
<1 jiiiKOale 930 11.19 315 55',
r.irentuin 732 939 "2oS 3 ■<, t;,,
Valrona 737 9 4:. 12 13 33« Cl 2
(Hit'er .let AT 746 950 12 23 34s if
Ulltlt r .IC'I l.v 745 DEO 12 34 34- 0 ■
«U.li l.burg 810 lo's 12 .19 411 <; 4 •
dor:.K« Ar. R35 lo as 125 438 7'<
A. >!, A. M. P. M, P M P v,
SVM>A\ TIiAIXS l.r d vi AHeu'lit-ti} U-. r, ■
I'uili r ami (irlueipai hiiermfli.ite o«»ioi-s'-
■\ >i.. :111«1 7:15 I . M
ft".-, k Pays 'J, r the Ksri «• k !.»»•
' 1,1 »■ '«• • p. Hi p.'l.
1120 625 Lv Butlkk. A.- ... J25
12 07 727 Ar Bqilpi Ju't Lv 12 i 4
•> !•*, "745 Lv iii.il. r .lir't lr 83v 12 3;
3IS 740 Ar Frei'piiri.. L S2B 12 oi
322 7 ,13 " A lie;:'; Jr'i 821 12 2".
333 804 " L*ee::l:it7|t. 812 12 1l
350 821 '•|' l «oltn:( Ap«.l!'" 756 lif.
418 851 " 732 11
450 a 22'• R: nr-vilie... 7UO lit'
4 8 930 .. 18 10 15
*in 1135 « A :i. t.na • 325 8(V
100 310 " t-r.hu.-jt.. 11 1.) 3 !(•
430 ti 23 " •S 30 11 -Ji
i». ni ji ui. a uj (■ m
On Kui.<la\, trail' Bniler 7:40
>1 , connect* :nr llarri-hurff Aluuo*, un
Htiilvdelphia.
I ..ninth trains fur tljn edst leave f'itt*-
Lti'f? (Union Station) a.-; fu'lows:—
Atiantic Express, <!ai!r 3 10 A. M
Pennsylvania Limited " 715 "
Day Express, " 730 '•
vutv Liue Exprew 800 "
r tiiladeipl.in E*i ,-ess ' 430 P. V.
Eastern Express " ... .705 "
Past Line •• glO «
Philad'a .Mail, t> today 0n1y. ...8 40 a.
For detailed in'ornibiion aJilre s Thus.
*'. ® * !t > Pa-' J . Ajtl. Westi in Dir ret, cor
«• ilth AV«. end BiuitMicld St , ii:vbu.v,
Sn. '
PKEVO6T, J K tfOOD,
Hejcra! Manager. l»et'l Tassr Agent.
pII'TSBUKG & WESTERN
Railway. Allegheny Short
Line. Schedule in effect, July 19,
1896.
utler Time, Depart. Arrive
Alleglienj Accommodation.. fi 2">arm »25 m
A legbenj Flyer 8 15 ;.m to uO m
* kron Mall 8 isuni 7 .m pn
Newcastle Aeconio tt 13am saan
Allegheny Accomo io us am 12 20 i n,
Uleglieny Express 255 pu, 4 55 HI.
(lilc&go Express i<r> r.ni ; ' "'O mi
Wleglieny Mall 6 o!> pm 7 Tv pi,
h. lwood Aecom..> 05 pm 73.
ATllien y kxpreb-s j r nm pi) syn
Kune and Itiudloio Mull w (6 am :> 20 pi,
•'larlon Accomo 5 l > [n> 9 50 uu
Foxburg Accomo 7 35 : 11, 8 05 an
SU>'I»AY TWAINS.
Deforest Jet. Accomo 8 15 an: 7 30 pn
iUeghenv Accomo llooOai,
ciucaKo Express 335 pit, 455 pu
\lleglieny AciOtno 605 pm, 4 5> pn
Pullman bullet rtleeplng Cars HUH Jrst-cia
•) ij coaches run r.lirouifb between Hutlo r am
•jlcano dallv.
For thrr...gh tlcketa to point.-. Hi" Wrsi
Northwest or Southwest apply to
A B. LROUC , Agen
> atler, a.
Trains leave the l«. i' O. depot In HiUlUi»
.or 1 tu- Kii*t a-; follows.
For Washington 1)' (J., Baltimore, Pbllaoti
pliU, n,i Now York. 7:30 an:! !i.-2U p. n
Cumberland, 6:40. 7 -.30, a.m. 1 :!0, 920 p. m.Con
0' Isvlile. f MO, 7:30. a. m. 1.10. 4.30, 4.45, 5.30, S.'.'i
J. m. I'nioutown. ~..0 a. m , 1 . 10. 4.30. 5.30 p. n
Onlontonn, Morga 1 to-vt aau Fairmont, 1 ,311. :,
IN. and s,3o p.m. Mt,Pleasant t!.40, 7. 30 a. EJ.
•to and 4.30 p in. Washington, Pa. 7.40 am
30 a. ni.. 4.00,4.43 and 9.00.11.55 p.m. Wheei
ng. 7.4 C. and 9.30 a. m., and 4.00.9.00. 11.55;.
.. Cincinnati, St, ..ouis. Columbus and »v.
ark. 7.40 a. m.. 9.10, 11.55 p, m.
For Chicago. 2.40 an l 9.30 p. m.
Parlor and sleeping cars to Ualtlmore u a>ii-
Ingtoti. Cincinnati and Chleairo.
Q. 0 Dunklk, Gen. Snpt. Allegheny, P,.
C. W. B.USBTT, A G.P.A . Allegheny. {'„
K. P. KKYNOLDS. Supt.. Foxiurg, Pa
THE PITTSBURG, SHENAN
GO & LAKE ERIE RAILROAD
r l lMb TABLE —lu -li-ioc >loii(iay, Jun»
28, 1896. Trains a r e rin by Stan-lard Cen
tral Time (90th Meridian).
GOING NORTH. C 01 NQ SOUTH
TO 1 M 12 j STATIONS 3 11 , .
p..m) ~ . ,i). Arr I,v'ea.m. ! » U m."
—I4 55 230 1-uCT.ilo 5 3.' 2 2
■ 1324 1 m.-|... .Dunkirk Ir, sti| 14
7 00 1 42 9 4ft| e in g35 3 35
6 25 1 (r.i 9 15 . Wallace .luoct. 6 17 9 15 1 12
6 2 1 1 1)4! 9 11 ......Glrard 6 so| f 18 1 15
60912 54 859 l.ockport. .. 700 919 120
02; W 8 511 .Cianesville. 7 OS| «J S8 4 .54
■■ i I T 41l|lV _,r ....|IQ 221 6 I
5571244 8 I ar.. ..\lbion WVil~9 41 137
5431233 ; 8 3!| .. Shadeland... 723 953 4 -,1
F4012 30 SB6 ... sprinnboro. .. 727 9 STI 455
5 J3 12 24 8 2O ..Conncautvllle.. 7 34 10 03! 5 03
5 !2 Oil! 8 o||| ... Moa'v'le J t. .. Sooj 10 25| 525
457 12 I - 807 ar. Kxpo.P.irk lv aO7 10 1 ■ 4 7
4 57 lo 15, 7 31 lv ar 8 07
456 10 021 7 20;I v .C'onu't Lake iti oi. 'j'i
. 12 22 8 I 0 ar ar 8 17 10 50 ft S 6
420 935 6 4">j v..Meadvllte .lv 9 35 ,
... 12 17| 8 421 ar at 81211 2V 0
NO2ll 51 742 . Hartsto\.-nT No 110 39 \" U
M* 6 I 3 i •• Adtttr.sviiie 10 44 5 i
. .. LI 38 7 27 Osgood 10541 S v 1
'251136 7is ... Greenville ... C 30111 o> ! « 1,5
6 18 11 20 7 05: ....5henan^0.... 6 40 li 20
6 00u0 51 j6 45 .... Kredoula... J 03ill 44 B"»
5 4110 43 625 Mercer... 7 2.112 04 10"
■> VlO 29, 6 101 I'ardoo,.. 7to 22 714
5 19 10 201 6 (JO ... Grove City. .. 7 47-12 33 7 -5
i °°i 5 ■ Harrlsvllie 758 "2 4;, 730
4 op) 5 K)|. .Braocbion.. .. h oei'2 54 j 7 4;,
5 00 — .I BIC |iv .Hranchton.ar 71012 10
545 355 ar...UHH:ir<l.. ,ly 0 25:11 15J ""
I 53; 9 sn; 5 Ml.v.. .KelSters ... 8 10112 58! 7 4
4 .19! 9 42j 521 j EllClld. g 22 I 1 'j K 0 !
* ' 9 '•"! * -OL .... B'LL 'IT . .... GML I IAL I
If. ] ]A|U gbeiiy. Psvvil 01 3 50 1 .
3 ,3 1' 4 1 Hlt!*bi»"K,B£o. 1> mip. >n
N'OTE.— Train ee. 1 stirtu Ir.xn Exposi
tl >u r.irk ic 5:4») <i in. MonJ ty-; o ~ily t
2 runs to Exp isiti.-ni P.rk Satur-lays only.
Triin-< li» a;id 16 wiil ru 1 Su:i<l-ty only
he'ween Butler ami Exp isition Hur'x.iuak
in.' all stops Lv Butler at. 7:30 am. Ke
turning leave Exp wition Park C p.m.
W T G B
HL^')REDS
of paper- in diflerent
for correßpmdenca B»* p.-
par, tablets atni envelopo.4 to match
Pa; er by thejpoiind cr rear.
AT
DOUGLx\SS'
Near
BUTLER, r.A
UTTLER. PA., THURSDAY. XO V EI[BER IS). 1890.
THEMjMRTO
of the|^^pMine.
fare and l ""Robert ES by
CHAPTER I.
£■» £IE managing - ed
' itor of tlie New
York Argiia sat at
his desk with a
deep frown on his
face, looking out
from under his
shaggy eyebrows
at the young' ina.ii
thrown a huge fur
overcoat on the
back of one chair,
while he sat down
himself on an
other. "I got your telegram," began the
editor. "Am I to understand from it
that you have failed?"
"Yes, sir," replied the young 1 man,
without the slightest hesitation.
"Completely?"
"Utterly."
"Didn't you even get a synopsis of
the documents?"
"Not a hanged synop."
The editor's frown grew deeper. The
ends of his fingers drummed nervously
on the desk.
"You take failure rather jauntily, it
strikes me," he said, at last.
"What's the use of other
way? I have the consciousness of k sew
ing that I did my best."
"Dm, yes. It's great consolation, no
doubt, but it doesn't count in the news
paper business. What did you do?"
"I received your telegram at Montreal
and at once left for Burnt Tine—most
outlandish 6pot on earth. I found that
Kcnyou and Wentworth were staying
at the only hotel in the place. Tried to
worm out of them what their reports
were to be. They were very polite, but
I didn't succeed. Then I tried to bribe
them, and they ordered me out of the
room."
"Perhaps you didn't offer them
enough."
"I offered them double what the Lon
don syndicate was to pay them for mak
ing the report, taking their own word
for the amount. I couldn't offer more,
because at that point they closed the
discussion by ordering me out of the
room. I tried to get the reports that
night, on the quiet, out of Wentworth's
valise, but was unfortunately inter
rupted. The young men were sus
picious, and next morning they left for
Ottawa to post the reports, as I gath
ered afterward, to England. I suc
ceeded in getting hold of the reports,
but 1 couldn't hang on. There are too
many police in Ottawa to suit me."
"Do you mean to tell me," said the
editor, "that you actually had the re
ports in your hands and that they were
taken from you?"
"Certainly I had; and, as to their be
ing taken from me, it was either that or
jail. They don't mince matters in Can
you know."
"But I should think a man of your
shrewdness would have been able to get
at least a synopsis of the reports be
fore letting them out of your posses
sion."
"My dear sir," said the reporter,
rather angry, "the whole thing covered
I forget how majiy pages of foolscap
paper, and was the most mixed-up mat
ter I ever saw in my life. I tried— I
sat in my room at the hotel, and did my
best to master the details. It was full
of technicalities, and 1 couldn't make
it out. It required a mining expert to
get the hang of their phrases and fig
ures, so 1 thought the best thing to do
was to telegraph it all straight
through to Now York. I knew it would
cost a lot of money, but I knew, also,
you didn't mind that; and I thought
perhaps somebody here could make
sense of what baffled me; besides, I
wanted to get the documents out of my
possession just as quickly as possible."
"Hem," said the editor. "You took no
notes whatever?"
"No, I did not* I had no time. I
knew the moment they missed the docu
ments they would have the detectives
on my track. As it was, I was arrested
when I entered the telegraph office."
"Well, it seems to me," said the man
aging editor, "if I had once had the
papers in my hand I should not have let
them go until I had got the gist of what
was in them."
"Oh, it's all very well for you to say
so," replied the reporter, with the free
and easy manner which exists between
American newspaper men and their em
ployers, "but I can tell you, with a
Canadian jail facing a man, it is hard
to decide what is best to do. I couldn't
get out of the town for three hours,
and before the end of that time they
would have had my description in the
hands of every policeman in the place.
They knew well enough who it was
that took the papers, so my only hope
lay in getting the thing telegraphed
through, and if that had been accom
plished everything would have been all
right. 1 would have gone to jail with
pleasure if I had got the particulars
through to New York."
"Well, what are we to do now?" asked
the editor.
"I'm sure I don't know. The two men
will be in New York very shortly. They
sail, 1 understand, on the Colorie, which
leaves in a week. If you think you have
a reporter who can get the particulars
out of these men, I should be very
pleased to see you set him on. I tell you
it Isn't so easy to discover what an Eng
lishman doesn't "want you to know."
"Well," said the editor, "perhaps
that's true. I will think about it. Of
course, you did your best, and I appre
ciate your efforts; but I am sorry you
failed."
"You are not half so sorry as I am,"
said Kivers, as he picked up his big Can
adian fur coat and took his leave.
The editor did think about it. He
thought for full two mlnu tes. Then he
dashed off a note on a sheet of paper,
pulled down the little knob that rang
the district messenger alarm, and when
the uniformed boy appeared gave him
the note, saying:
"Deliver this as quickly as you can."
The boy disappeared, and the result
of his trip was soon apparent in the ar
rival of a very natty young woman in
the editorial rooms. She was dressed
in a neatly-fitting' tailor-made costume,
and was a very pretty girl, who locked
about 19, but was, in reality, considera
bly older. She had large, appealing
blue eyes, with a tender, trustful ex
pression in them, which made the ordi
nary man say: "What a sweet, inno
cent look that girl has;" yet what the
young woman didn't know about New
York was not worth knowing. She
boasted that she could get state secrets
from dignified members of the cabinet,
and an ordinary senator or congress
man she looked upon as her lawful
prey. What had been told to her in the
strictest confidence had often become
the sensation of the next day in the pa
per she represented. She wrote over a
nom de guerre, and had tried her hand
at nearly everything. She had answered
advertisements, exposed rog-ues and
swindlers and had gone to a hotel as
chambermaid in order to write her ex
periences. She had been arrested and
locked up so that she might write a
three-column account for the Sunday
edition of the Argus, of "How Women
Are Treated at Police Headquarters."
The editor looked upon her as one of
the most valuable members of his staff,
and she was paid accordingly.
She came into the room with the self
possessed air of the owner of the build
ing, took a seat, after nodding to the
editor, and said: "Well?"
"Look here, Jennie," began that aus
tere individual, "do j-ou wish to make a
trip to Europe ?"
"That depends," said Miss Jennie;
"this is not just the time of year that
people go to Europe for pleasure, you
know."
"Well, this is not exactly a pleasure
trip. The truth of the matter is, Rivers
has been on a job and has bungled it
fearfully, besides nearly getting him
self arrested."
The young woman's eyes twinkled.
She liked anything with a spice of dan
ger in it, and did not object to hear that
she was expected to succeed where a
mere masculine reporter had failed.
The editor continued:
"Two young men are going across to
England on the Coloric. It sails in a
week. I want you t» take a ticket for
Liverpool by that bout, and obtain from
either of those two men the particulars
—the full particulars—of reports they
"And am I to take the pick of the two young:
menP *'
have made on some mining properties
in Canada. Then you must land at
Queens town and cable a complete ac
count to the Argus." ■
"Mining isn't much in my line," said
Miss Jennie, with a frown on her pretty
brow. "What sort of mines were they
dealing with —gold, silver, copper, or
what?"
"They are certain mines on the Ot
taw a river."
"That's rather indefinite."
"I know it is. I can't give you much j
information about the matter. I don't
know myself, to tell the truth, but I
know it is vitally important that we
should get a synopsis of what the re
ports of these young men are to be. A
company, called the London syndicate,
been formed in England. This
syndicate is to acquire a large number
of mines in Canada, if the accounts
given by the present owners are any
thing like correct. Two men, Kenyon
and Wentworth —the first a mining en
gineer and the second an expert ac
countant —have been sent from London
to Canada, one to examine the mines,
the other to examine the books of the !
various corporations. Whether the ;
mines are bought or not will depend a
good deal on the reports that these two
nicn have in their possession. The re
ports, when published, will make a big 1
difference, one way or the other, on the
stock exchange. I want to haTe the gist
of these reports before the London syn
dicate sees them. It will be a big tiling
for the Argiis if it is the first in the
field, and I am willing to spend a pile
of hard cash to succeed. So don't econ
omize on your cable expenses."
"Very well; have you a book on
Canadian mines?"
"I don't know that we have, but there
is a book here the 'Mining
of Canada;' will that be of any use?"
"I shall need something of that sort.
I want to be a little familiar with the
subject, you know."
"Quite so," said the editor, "I will see
what can be got in that line. You can
read it before you start and on the way
over."
"All right," said Miss Jennie; "and am
I to take the pick of the two young
men ?"
"Certainly," answered the editor.
"You will see them both, and can easily
make up your mind which will the
sooner fall a victim."
"The Coloric sails in a week, does it?"
"Yes."
"Then I shall need at least SSOO to get
new dresses with."
"Good gracious!" criec *he editor.
"There is no 'good gracious' about it.
I'm going to travel as a millionaire's
daughter, and it isn't likely that one or
two dresses will do me all the way over."
"But you can't get new dresses made
in a week," said the editor.
"Can't I? Well, you just get me the
SSOO and I'll see about the making."
The editor jotted the amount down.
"You don't think S4OO would do?" he
said.
"No, I don't. And say, am Ito get a
trip to Paris after this is over, or must
I come directly back?"
"Oh, I guess we can throw in the trip
to Paris," said the editor.
"What did you say the names of the
young men are? Or are they young?
Probably they are old fogies, if they are
In the mining business."
"No; they are young, they are shrewd,
and they are English. So, you see, your
work is cut out for you. Their names
are George Wentworth and John Ken
yon."
"Oh, Wentworth is my man," said the
young woman, breezily. "John Ken
yon. i Know just what sort of a per
son he is—somber and taciturn. Sotindi
too much like John Human, or Johr
Milton, or names of tliat sorU"
"Well, I wouldn't be too sure about i
until you see them. Better not mak<
up your mind about the matter."
"When shall I call for the $500?"
"Oh, that you needn't trouble about
The better way is to get your dressei
made, and tell the peopie to send tht
bills to our office."
"Very well," said the young woman.
"I shall be ready. Don't be frig-htened
at the bills when they come in. If they
come up to SI,OOO remember I told you
, I would let you off for $500."
The editor looked at her a moment,
i and seemed to reflect that perhaps it
was better not to give a young lady uu-
I limited credit in New York. So he
! said: "Wait a bit. I'll write you out
| the order, and you can take it down
stairs."
Miss Jennie took the paper when it
was offered to her, and disappeared.
1 When she presented the order in the
business office the cashier raised his
eyebrows as he noticed the amount,
and with a low whistle, said to himself:
"Five hundred dollars! I wonder what
game Jennie Brewster's up to now."
CHAPTER 11.
The last bell had rung. Those who
were going ashore had taken their de
parture. Crowds of human beings clus
tered on the pier head and at the large
doorways of the warehouse which stood
open on the steamer wharf. As the
big ship slowly backed out there was
a fluttering of handkerchiefs from the
mass on the pier, and an answering
flutter from those who crowded along
the bulwarks of the steamer. The tug
slowly pulled the prow of the vessel
around, and c.t last the engines of the
steamship began their pulsating throbe
—throbs that would vibrate night and
day until the steamer reached an older
world. The crowd on the pier became
more and more indistinct to those on
board, and many of the passengers
went below, for t-lie air was bitterly
cold, and the boat was forcing its way
down the bay among huge blocks of
ice.
Two, at least, of the passengers had
taken little interest in the departure.
They were leaving no friends behind
them, and were both setting their faces
toward friends at home.
"Let us go down," said Wentworth
to Kenyon, "and see that we get seats
together at table before all are taken."
"Very good," replied his companion,
and they descended to the roomy
saloon, where two long tables were al
ready laid with an ostentatious display
of silver, glassware and cutlery, which
made many, who looked on this wilder
ness of white linen with something like
dismay, hope that the voyage would be
smooth, which, as it was a winter pas
sage, there was every chance it would
[ not be. The purser and two of his as
sistants sat at one of the shorter tables
with a plan before them, marking off
the names of passengers who wished
to be together, or who wanted some
particular place at any of the tables.
The smaller side tables were still un
covered, because the number of passen
gers at that season of the year was
comparatively small. As the places
were assigned, one of the helpers to the
purser wrote the names of the passen
gers on small cards, and the other put
the cards on the tables.
One young woman, in a beautifully
fitted traveling gown, evidently of the
newest cut and design, stood a little
apart from the general group which
surrounded the. purser and his assist
necr.lv ?r*ni\jiprl everv
given. Sometimes a shade of disap
pointment crossed her brow, as if she
expected some particular person to pos
sess some particular name which that
particular person did not have. At
last her eyes sparkled.
"My name is Wentworth," said the
young man whose turn itwas.
"Ah! any favorite place, Mr. Went
worth?" asked the purser, blandly, as
if he had known Wentworth all his life.
"No, we don't care where we sit;
but my friend, Mr. Kenyon, and myself
would like places together."
"Very good; you had better come to
my table," replied the purser. "Nos. 23
and 24—Mr. Kenyon and Mr. Went
worth."
The steward took the cards that were
given him, and placed them to cor
respond with the numbers the purser
bad named. Then the young woman
moved gracefully along, as if she were
interested in the names on the table.
She looked at Wentworth's name for a
moment, and saw in the place next to
his the name of Mr. Brown. She gave
a quick, apprehensive glance around the
saloon, and saw the two young men
who had arranged for their seats at
table now walking leisurely toward the
companionway. She took the card with
the name of Mr. Brown upon it, and
slipped upon the table another on which
was written: "Miss Jennie Brewster."
Mr. Brown's card she placed on the
spot from which she had taken her own.
"I hope Mr. Brown is not particular
which place he occupies," said Miss Jen
nie, to herself; "but at any rat© I shall
see that I am early for dinner, and I'm
sure Mr. Brown, whoever he is, will not
be so ungallant as to insist on having
this place if ho knows his card was
here."
Subsequent events proved Miss Jen
nie's surmise regarding Mr. Brown's
indifference perfectly well founded.
That young man searched for his card,
found it, and sat down on the chair op
posite Miss Jennie, who already occu
pied her chair, and was, in fact, the first
one at table. Seeing there would be no
unseemly dispute about places, she be
gan to plan In her own mind how she
would first attract the attention of Mr.
Wentworth. While thinking how best
to approach her victim, Miss Jennie
heard his voice.
"Here you are, Kenyon, here are our
places."
"Which is mine?" said the voice of
Kenyon.
"It doesn't matter," answered Went
worth, and then a thrill of fear want
throug-h the gentle heart of Mins Jennie
Brewster. She bad not thoug-ht of the
young man not caring which seat he
occupied, and she dreaded the possi
bility of finding herself next to Kenyon
rather than Wentworth. Her first es
timate of the cliaracters of the two
man seemed to be correct. She always
thought of Kenyon as Bunyan, nnd she
felt certain that Wentworth would be
the easier man of the two to influence.
The next moment her fears were al
layed, for Kenyon giving a rnpid glance
at the handsome young woman, delib
erately chose the seat farthest from her,
and Wentworth, with: "I beg your par
don," slipped in and sat down on the
chair beside her.
"Now," thought Jennie, with a sigh
of relief, "our positions are fixed for the
meals of the voyage." She had made her
plajis for beginning an acquaintance
with the young man, but they were ren
dered unnecessary by the gallant Mr.
Wentworth handing her the bill of fare.
"Oh, thank you," said Miss Jennie, In
a low voice, which was so musicai that
Wentworth glanced at her a second time
and saw how sweet ajid pretty and inno
cent she wag.
"I'm in luck," said the unfortunate
young man to himself.
Then he remarket! aloud: "We have
not many ladies with us this voyage."
"N'O," replied Miss Brewster; "I bu|>-
I>ose nobody really crosses nt this time
of the year unless compelled to."
"I can answer far two passengers that
such is the case."
"Do you mean yourself as one?"
and ray friend."
"How ; . 't must be," said M!.«s
Brewster, "to tra\ <. f r : end. Then
one Is not lonely. L, u..»„ nm
traveling alone."
"I fancy," said the gallant Went
worth, "that if you are lonely while on
board ship it will be entirely your own
fault."
Miss Brewster laughed a silvery little
laugrh. "I don't know about that," she
said. "I am going to that Mecca of all
Americans—Paris. My father is to meet
mo there, and we are then going on to
the Riviera together."
"Ah! that will be very pleasant,"said
Wentworth. "The Riviera at this sea
son is certainly a place to be desired."
"So I have heard." she replied,
"Have you not been across before?"
"So, this is my first voyage. I sup
pose you have crossed many times ?"
"Oh, no," answered the Englishman;
"this is only my second voyage, my first
having been the one that took me to
America."
"Ah, then, you are not an American?"
returned Miss Brewster, with apparent
surprise. She imagined that a man is
generally flattered when a mistake of
this kind is made. No matter how proud
he may be of his country, it shows that
there is certainly no provincialism
about him that, as the Americans say,
"gave him away."
"1 think," said Wentwprth, "as a
general thing, I am not mistaken for
anything but what I am—an English
man." ,
"I have met so few Englishmen," said
the guileless Miss Jennie, "that really
I should not be expected to know."
"I understand it is a common delusion
among Americans that every English
man drops his 'h's,' and is to be detected
in that way."
Jennie laughed again, and George
Wentworth thought it one of the pret
tiest laughs he hail ever heard.
I'oor Kenyon was rather neglected by
his friend during the dinner. He felt a
little gloomy while the courses wenton,
and wished he had an evening paper.
Meanwhile Wentworth and the hand
some girl beside him got on very well
together. At the end of the dinner she
seemed to have some difficulty in get
ting up from her chair, and Wentworth
j showed her how to turn it around, leav
ing her free to rise. She thanked him
prettily.
"I am going on deck," Bhe said, as she
turned to go; "I am so anxious to get
my first glimpse of the ocean at night
from the deck of a steamer."
"I hope you will let me accompany
you?" returned young Wentworth.
"The decl;s are rather slippery, and
even when the boat is not rolling it
isn't quite safe for a lady unused to the
motion of a ship to walk alone in the
dark."
"Oh, thank you very much!" replied
Miss Brewster, with effusion. "It is
kind of you, lam sure; and if you prom
ise not to let me rob you of the pleasure
of your after-dinner cigar I shall be
most happy to have you accompany me.
I will meet you at the top of the stair
way in five minutes."
"You are getting on," said Kenyon, as
the young woman disappeared.
- "What's the vise of being on board
take advantage 01
making shipboard acquaintances.
There is an unconventionality about
life on a steamer that is not without its
charm, as, perhaps, you will find out
before the voyage is over, John."
"You are merely trying to ease your
conscience because of your heartless de
sertion of me."
George Wentworth had waited at the
top of the companionway a little more
than five minutes when Miss Brewster
appeared, wrapped in an arrangement
tipped with fur, which lent an addition
al charm to her complexion, set off as it
j
"Poor Mr. Wentworth-only the tint night out
and he told ma hie name was Qeoree."
was by a jaunty steamer cap. They
stepped out on the deck, and found it
not at all as dark as they expected. Lit
tle globes of electric light were placed
at regular intervals in the walls of the
dock building. Overhead was stretched
a sort of canvas roof, against which th*
sleety rain pattered. One of the sailors,
with a rubber mop, was pushing into the
gutter by the side of the ship the mois
ture from the deck. AU around the
boat the night was as black as ink, ex
cept here and there where the white
curl of a wave showed luminous for a
moment in the darkness.
Miss Brewster insisted that Went
worth should light his cigar, which,
after some persuasion, he did. Then
he tucked her hand snugly under his
arm, and she adjusted her step to suit
his. They had the promenade all to
themselves. The rainy winter night
was not as inviting to most of the pas
sengers as the comfortable rooms be
low. Kenyon, however, and one or two
others came up, 0111 sat down in the
Bteamer chairs that were tied to the
brass rod which ran along the deck
house wall. He saw the glow of Went
worth's cigar as the couple turned at
the further end of the walk, and .as the
two passed him he heard a low murmur
of conversation, and now and then
caught a snatch of silvery laughter.
It was not because Wentworth had de
serted him that Kenyon felt so uncom
fortable nnd depressed. He couldn't
tell just what it was, but there had set
tled on his mind a strange, uneasy fore
boding. After a time he went down
into the saloon nnd tried to read, but
could not, and so wandered along the
seemingly endless narrow passage to his
room, which was Wentworth's as well,
and, in nautical phrase, "turned in."
It was late when his companion came in.
"Asleep, Kenyon?" he asked.
"Xo," was the answer.
"By George! John, she is one of the
most charming girls I ever met. Won
derfully clever, too; makes a man feel
like a tool beside her. She has read
.early everything. Has opinions on ul
our authors, a great many of whom I*v<
never heard of. I « ish. for your sake
John, that she had a sister on board."
"Thanks, old man; awfully good oi
you, I'm sure." said Kenyon. "Don't
you think it's about time to stop raving
and get into your bunk, and turn out
that confounded light?"
"All right, growler, I will," was the
answer.
Meanwhile, in her own stateroom,
Mi's Jennie Brewster was looking at hex
rvxieetion in the glass. As she shook out
her long hair until it rippled down her
back, she smiled sweetly, and said to
herself:
"Poor Mr. Wentworth! Only the
first night out and he told me his name
vrns George."
CHAPTER in.
Next morning Wentworth worked his
way. with much balancing and holding
cn of stanchions, along the deck, for
the ship rolled fearfully, although
there seemed to be. little w iud and the
sun was shining brightly, but the per
son he sought was now here visible. He
thought he would go into thesmoking
rooin, but changed his mind at the door,
and turned down the companionwc v to
the main saloon. The tables had been
cleared of the breakfast belongings,
but on one of the small tables a white
Cioth had bees laid, and at this spot
of purity in the general effect of red
plush sat Miss Brewster, who was com
placently ordering what she wanted
from a steward, who did not seem at all
pleased in serving one who had disre
garded the breakfast hour to the dis
arrangement of all saloon rules. The
chief steward stood by a door and
looked disapprovingly at the lateguesU
It was almost time to lay the tables for
lunch, and the young woman was as
calmly ordering her breakfast as if
she had been the first person at the
table.
She looked up brightly at Wentworth,
and smiled as he approached her.
"1 suppose." she began. "I'm dread
fully late, und the steward looks as if
he would like to scold me. How aw
fully the ship is rolling. Is there a
storm?"
"No. Bhe seems to be doing this sort
of thing for amusement. Wants to
make it interesting for the unfortunate
passengers who are not good sailors, I
suppose. She is doing it, too. There's
scarcely anyone on deck."
"Dear me. I thought we were having
a dreadful storm. Is it raining?"
"No. It's a beautiful sunshiny day;
without much wind, either, in spite of
all this row."
"I suppose you have had your break
fast long ago?"
"So long since that I am beginning
to look forward with pleasant antici
pation to lunch."
"Oh dear! I had no idea I was so late
as that-. Perhaps you had better scold
me. Somebody ought to do it, and the
steward seems a little afraid."
" You overestimate my courage. lam
a little afraid, too."
"Then you do think I deserve it?"
"I didn't say that, nor do I think it
I confess, however, that up to this mo
ment I felt just a trifle lonely."
"Just a trifle I Well, that is flattery.
How nicely you English do turn a com
pliment. Just a trifle!"
"I believe, as a race, we do not
ture much into compliment-giving at
all. We leave that for the polite for
eigner. He would say what I tried to
say a great deal better than I did, of
course; but he would not mean half so
much."
■ r." l P' at M S Tcr V ploe - Mr - Wentworth.
WO
deck ?"
"Anywhere, if you let me accompany
you."
"I shall be most delighted to have
you. I won't say merely a trifle de
lighted."
"Ah! Haven't you forgiven that re
mark yet?"
"There's nothing to forgive, and it
is quite too delicious to forget. I shall
never forget it."
"I believe that you are very cruel at
heart, Miss Brewster."
The young woman gave him a curious
side look, but did not answer. She
gathered the wraps she had taken from
the cabin, and, handing them to him
before he had thought of offering to
take them, they went on deck. He
found there chairs side by side, and ad
mired the intelligence of the deck stew
ard, who seemed to understand what
chairs to place together. Miss Jennie
sank gracefully into her own, and al
lowed him to adjust the wraps around
her.
"There," she said, "that's very nicely
done; as well as the deck steward him
self could do it, and I am sure it is im
possible to pay you a more graceful
compliment than that. So few men
know how to arrange one comfortably
in a steamer chair."
"You speak as though you had vast
experience in steamer life; and yet you
told me this was your first voyage."
"It is. But it doesn't take a woman
more than a day to see that the average
man attends to such little niceties very
clumsily. Now, just tuck in the corner
out of sight. There! Thank you, ever
so much. And would you be kind
enough to—yes, that's better. And
this other wrap so. Oh! that is perfect.
What a patient man you are, Mr. Went
worth."
"Yes, Miss Brewster, you are a for
eigner. I can see that now. Your pro
fessed compliment wae hollow. YoU
said 1 did it perfectly, and then im
mediately directed me how to do it."
"Nothing of the kind. You did it well,
and I think you ought not to grudge me
the pleasure of adding my own little
improvements."
"Oh, If you put It that way, I will not.
Now, before I sit down, tell me what
book I can get that, will interest you.
The library contains a very good as
sortment."
"I don't think I care about reading.
Sit down and talk. I suppose lam too
Indolent to-day. I thought, when I
came on board, that I would do a lot of
reading, but I believe the sea air makes
one lazj\ I must confess 1 feel entirely
indifferent to mental improvement."
"You evidently do not think my con
versation will be at all worth listen
ing to."
"How quick you are to pervert my
meaning. Don't you see that I think
your conversation better worth listen
ing to than the most interesting or im
proving book you can choose from the
library? Really, in trying to avoid
giving you cause for making such a re
mark, I have apparently stumbled into
a worse error. I was just going to say
I would like your conversation much
better than a book, when I thought you
would take that as a reflection on your
reading. If you take me up so sharply,
I will sit here and say nothing. Now,
then, talk."
"What shall I say?"
"Oh. if 1 told you what to say I should
be doing the talking. Tell me about
yourself. What do you do in London?"
"I work hard. lam an accountant."
"And what is an accountant? What
does he do? Keep accounts?"
"Some of them do; I do not. I see,
rather, that accounts other people keep
have been correctly kept."
•Aren't r hvy always -orrectly kept 3 ?
I thought *h:it was what bookkeeper#
ere hired for."
"If books were always correctly kept
there would be little for ns to do; but
:♦ happens, unfortunately for some bat
fortunately for us. tliat pcopl© occa
sionally do not keep their accounts ac*
curately."
'And can you always find that out If
you examine the books?"
"Always."
' an t a man make his accounts so
♦hat no one can tdl that there is any
thing wrong?"
"The belief that such a thing- can be
done has placed many a poor wretch in
prison, [t has been tried often enough."
"I am sure they can do it in thestates.
1 have read of it being done and con
tinued for years. Men have made oft
with jrcat sums of money by falsify
ing' the books, and no one found it out
until the one who did it died or ran
away."
"Nevertheless, if an expert accountant
ha<i been called in he would have found
out very soon that something' was
wrong 1 , and just where the wrong was
and how much."
"1 didn't think such cleverm-. - TS
sible. Have you ever diseoveri i ;iny
thing 1 like that?"
"I have."
'What Is done when such a tl. ::g is
discovered?"
"That depends upon circumsUj noes.
Usually a policeman is called in."
"Why, it's like being a detective. I
wish you would tell me about aome of
the cases you have had. Don't make me
ask too many questions. Talk."
"1 don't think my experiences would
interest you in the least. There was one
case with which I had something- to do
in London two years ago that—"
"Oh, London. I don't believe the book
keepers there are half so sharp as ours.
If you had to deal with American ac
countants you would not find out so
easily what they had or had not done."'
"Well, Miss Brewster, what I tell you
is, of course, in confidence. I wouldn't
whisper it to anybody else, but I may
say I have just had an experience of
that kind with some of your very sharp
est American bookkeepers. I found
that the books had been kept in the
most ingenious way, with the intent to
deceive. The system had been going on
for years."
"How interesting. And did you call
in a policeman?"
"No. This was one of the cases where
a policeman w-ae not necessary. The
books were kept with the object of
showing that the profits of the m—of
the business—had been much greater
than they really were. I may say that
one of your American accountants had
already looked over the books, and,
whether through ignorance or careless
ness, or from a worse motive, he re
ported them all right. They were not
all right, and the fact that they were
not will mean the loss of n fortune to
some people on your side of the water
and the saving of good money to otJiere
on my side."
"Then I think your profession must
be a very important one."
"We think so. Miss Brewster. I would
like to be paid a percentage on the
money saved because of my report."
"And won't you?"
"Unfortunately no."
"I think that is too bad. I suppose the
discrepancy must have been small, or
the American accountant would not
have overlooked it."
"I didn't say thathe had overlooked it.
Still, the size of the discrepancy does
not make the difference. A small error
is as easily found as a large one. This
teg iftdwv..
£ 40,000, when they should have shown
a loss of nearly half that amount. I
hope nobody overhears me."
"No; we are quite alone, and you may
be sure I will not breathe a word of what
you have been telling me."
"Don't breathe it to Kenyon, at least.
He would think me insane if he knew
what I have said."
"Is Mr. Kenyon an accountant, too?"
"Oh, no. He is a mineralogist. He can
go into a mine and tell with a reason
able certainty whether it will pny the
working of it or not. Of course, as he
says himself, any man can sec six feet
into the earth as well as he can. But it
is not every man that can gauge the
value of a working mine so well as John
Kenyon."
"Then while you were delving among
the figures, your companion was delv
ing among the minerals?"
"Precisely."
"And did he make any such startling
discovery as you did?"
"No; rather the other way. Ho finds
the mines very good properties, and he
thinks that if they are managed intelli
gently they will be good-paying invest
ments —that is, at a proper price, you
know—not at what the owners ask for
them at present. But you can have no
possible interest in these dry details."
"Indeed, you arc mistaken. I think
what you have told xne intensely inter-,
esting."
For once in her lif? Miss Jennie Brew-
Bter told the exact truth. The unfor
tunate man at her side was flattered. .
"For what I have told you," he said,
"we were offered twice what the Lon
don people pay us for coming out here.
In fact, even more than that. We were
asked to name our own price."
"Really now. By the owners of the
property, I suppose, if you wouldn't tell
on them?"
"No. By one of j our famous New
York newspaper men. He even went so
far as to steal the papers that Kenyan
had in Ottawa. lie was cleverly caught,
though, before he could make any use of
what he had stolen. In fact, unless his
people in New York had thefigures which
were originally pladed before the Lon
don boai-d I doubt ifmy statistics would
have been of much '«ee to liim, even if
he had been allowed to keep them. The
full significance of my report will not
the .v until the figures I have given are
compared with those already in the
hands of tine London people, which were
vouched for a« correct by your clever
American accountant."
"You shouldn't run down an ac
countant just because he is an Amer
ican. Perhaps there will come a day,
Mr. Went worth, when you will admit
that there are Americans who are moaa
clever than either that accountant or
that newspaper man. I don't think
your specimens arc typical."
"I don't 'run down,' as you call it* the
meti~beoau.se they are Americans. I
'run down' the accountant because ho
was either ignorant, or corrupt. I 'run
down' the newspaper man because he
was a thief."
Miss Brewster was silent for a few,
moments. She was impressing' on her,
memory what he had said to her and
was anxious to get away, so that she
could write out in her cabin exactly,
what had been told her. The sound of
the lunch gong gave lier the excuse
Deeded, so, bidding her victim a pleas
ant and friendly farewell, she hurried
from the deck to her stateroom.
[TO »F. CONTIHCXD.]
Park row—l write jokes for a living.
Pennibe —Is that a boast # or an ap«
peal for charity?—X. Y. Truth;
No. 46