VOL- xxxiv
MRS. J. E ZIMMERMAN.
Fall And Winter Announcement
OF
High=Class Novelty Silks, Dress
(joods And Millinery.
A positively peerless collection of high-class stufls. confined exclusively
to us. The first choice of the world's foremost weaves harried
through the Castoai House under old tariff duties, we
can offer you values at prices untouchable by
any competition, as our orders were all
placed with importers thrw?
months ago.
SILKS. DRESS GOODS.
25c —Beautiful Changeable Silks, all 25c All-Wool Novelty; value 40c.
colors; real value 40c. 25c All-Wool Surges; value 40c.
50c—Extra value in Changeable Silks 25c All-Wool 36-iuch Lacks' Cloth; j
sold everywhere at 65c. j value 40c.
69c —Elegant assortment of Figured j All-Wool Novelty; value 50c.
Taffetta Silks, all shades; real value 75c. I 50c —We are showing the largest as
_. . „ . „ „,, ' sortment of All-wool Plain Cloths,
75c —Black Satin Duchess, sold every- ,
... i serees, Henriettas and Noveltv Dress
where for 11.00. 6 ,
Gooos ever shown 111 Butler; quality sold
I elsewhere at 75c. Remember these
JAvlitlwa styles are exclusively our own; cannot
be seen elsewhere at 75c, *1 to Si, in
The Rothschild Wraps for 1897 are plain and fancy weaves. We are show
here in all their superb quality, style ing as fine and exclusive line of pat
and finish; the perfect fit of these Gar- terns as can be found in the largest city
jnents is well known to our trade. Note stores. The prices on these fine import -
the low prices. At $2.98, good quality ed Dress goods 25 per cent less than city
Ladies Beaver Cloth Jacket. prices.
$5.00, an extra quality of Boucle and U| I 1 ItMCRY
Kersey Jackets, style and figure guaran- 111 I LLI II til ■
teed. All the new effect? in Hats, Feathers,
|7 50 to sls 00—we are showing a line Birds, Ribbons and Flowers. New
that cannot be matched in the city. shapes, new combinations. This w'll be
• . . „„ a great Ostrich season. Our Ostrich
Cloth Capes and f2 50 to {ls 00. *> ...... 1
Goods we e all bought prior to the ad
ss 00 —boucle Cape, lined through- vance Velvets also. Come and visit
out, trimmed in Thibet down, front our Millinery Department; ;t will pty
round collar; also, Fame style in Plush ) ou. Values always the best. Prices
._Capes; real value of these capes, $8 50 always the lowest
We hball
not enumerate the
many clashes of goods we
keep. Come to our Ptorc, fik'n
department, ask to see our Wi iter ITodnrwtar.
Ilußierr. 3lariketa, F.aaueU, <fec., It will cost
you nothing.—to ba> " ?oar choice. Al! g »ods at their I j *o3l prise-i,
And Everything a Bargain.
Mrs. J- E Zimmerman
T. H. BURTON. * T. H. BURTON.
|STYLE.f
Style is Everything Now-a»days
jAnd we are glad that it appertains to overy article in our stock, for correctness
iiiti elegance are sure concomitants to artistic development.
ft Costs Voa no More to be la Htrmoay With The Best Express Styles of
The Seasoo, Thai to Constitute "A BACK NUMBER,"
By taftitegwything and everything irresponsible dealers may offer you. This es
tabCjiijjr.cat «<i;nds always to keep up with the time# s»jd you ere sure of that basis
youne'f if you »»11 trust us to serve you.
T. H. BURTON,
120 SOUTH MAIN ST., BUTLER, FA.
J. S. YOUNG,
Tailor, hotter and Gents Furnishing Goods.
Summer heat makes the problem of looking(dressy and keepingjeool a hard one
But we've solved it; and for ctjee economy, comfort and fashion go' Land in bat d
Our summer suits are finer in fabric, nobbier in pattern and more stylish in cu
han ever before, they fit your curves and yet they're not sweat bath outfits.
prices may surprise you.
J. S. YOUNG, Tailor.
101 S. MAIN St., • - - BUTLER, PA
(! A?ffA Pleasing Prospectfff
TO FIND THE COAT SO satis.V'ro-y at
' j the first trial. This is the universal tea!'*
V \ CT' 11/\ mony of our patrons, who are all lovers of
V \/vf % I neat fitting clothes. Without them no man
I Va "v YJ V ■ i looks well dressed.
V r^ s l Ie 1 ) A COAT WELL MADE is made to fit und
j j 1 —"—\i j' J. not to set-iust hit-or-miss; an artist well may
*'" t Oi a / take delight in seeing a neat fitting coat
I'l | A j'/ I *y Good materia], good workmanship and g<x«l
\ I W\\ fS' fits are the proof that have made our tailor
! I \ ,1 I/ \\ YiTl a success - We guarantee this and ask
| !\Ji j Y/ L ~W you to look at our patterns. Our price; are
j I/| | I \ /fa r~S cut down to the lowest notch.
M T MJI I FT F. KECK,
C F. T. PAPE & BROS.
JEWLERS.
full Stock Of—^
Diamonds, Watches. Rings, have arriyed and we cordially in vite
you to call and examine our strxv l «et prices before buying
elsewhere. WC can save money.
OUR $3.50 watch is the best in the Riflrket.
OUR $4.50 watch is the same as you > I J f $5.50 and $6.00 e4se«rj.i"f
We have about 15, $4 8 day clot ks left, vt-'H close them out at 52.35.
—Our Stock Of--'©
tl' ■j, 1 Gents fille'l watches is complete. We can save you f T oni Uj
6 jo these goo<ls. We have the finest line of rings in the cC'Dtry,
Diamond rings from fy7s to f 250. We give our
special attention to watch repairing.
We Harrflfc N'flthing But The Celebrated 1847 Rogers' Bros.
Plateware.
122 South Main St., Butler Pa.
__ . THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
Much in Little
i Is especially tr ie of ll*x)d's Pi!!*, for no
tine ever contained so great curative power in
io small space. Tliey are a wtiole medicine
Hoods
chest always ready, al- ear
ways r.t. r.: ■ :tys sat- Ql I| 8
' isfaetory; prev t a coM | Ei O
i or ferer, cure a!l liver ills.
i jick headache, jaundice. eonst:pat:i n, etc. 2.V.
The only Pills to take Hood's s*r-^i)anl!a.
Tlii* I* Your Opportunity.
On receipt of ten cent*, cash or stamps.
■ a peneron-4 sample will 1- HiW rf the j
most popular Catarrh nn-i liay fever C'.re
(Ely's Cream Balm sufficient to demon
strate the gr. ..l merits of the remedy.
ELY 15EOTHERS.
56 Warren St, New York City. I
Tier. John Eeid, -Tr.. of Great Falls, Mont., 1
recommended Ely's C ream Balm to me. I
can emphasize his statement, "It is a posi
tive cure for catarrh if u*ed as directed
Rev. Francis W. Poole. Pastor Central Pres.
Church, Helena s Mont.
Ely's Cream Bn'm is th" acknowledged
cure for crfarrh and t'outnins no mercury
nor any injurious drus Priw, 50 cents.
RAILROAD TIME TABLES
I'. It. & L. K. 11. I{.
Sunday, Oct. •'!. leave for Erie at »'• " [
a. m. and '2:30 p. in.
Arrive from Erie at 10:1"> a. in. and j
8:40 p. in., K. R. time.
—
I>mSHUKG & WKSTK N
Ivaihvaj . Schedule ol Pas
senger Trains in cl'lect ?«lay 16,
1897. BUTLER TIME.
I* |«rt Ariive. j
IBCHI 113 to mm PI • «
Al! "'Fiver". »15 • - i
N«WQMU« Acconanudtttkm I fift tm 9 I:
Akroa IWI B V u 7® rJ
AOe|iwß! v i.iti :i 10 €5 • 1 l" " j
\i- —n% Kxj - ■•"» i ' 15 - |
- r" i «•>*» •
•hi ... ! -.■• - •: 4'» • 12 Ifi i
AH.--h. nv .Mai! . '»• " |
ADegbi . "F • TO3 j
EH wood Accrmisnudatiou 3 40 7 0
4 i.l l.ilnif'-l. . ...... 4«» '» 17 A VI
Ktßimud .: ••• Mail 9 32 m P.X I
Dvi . I main 115 rj •55 lM
I . g A mm -i.it; ■;» 710 u
>1 NI»AV TK VI
Alh • ; J rj- 015 AJfj «32 44 |
v . BJ : ... id itfciQ "•! U 1 P.M
v- wkl :. - . kjt 7 1 '
«! I Kxprw*!'... . . ;4" KM TV» " •
ftlllffclll . ,7 "
T . .. •• ! ti« ..t ... hi. ami ; r n*l '
cl MUiorti 'i% ■i. ,la Hlegheoy I
N ill'-y Uy.
K<»r li.kt t- r..a1l in tht* u. -t n< rth- |
«i-nt . t .
A. B. rßor< ii. Ap nt,
K. li. Sun't. Butl.-r, !'♦. •
Fo.\l»urj:, I'a. r. W. BASSKTT, j
A. <». P. A. AIN ith- uy, r» j
PENNSYLVANIA R |J
WFSTEN PENNSYLVANIA DIVISION.
.S iim* IF. is Errwr MAV 17, lsiff.
SOUTH. WEEK I>AVS
A. 31 A M A M V M V M
B1 TLKR 1M .«V. .. 26 -00 11 15 2 . !
fluumlmrs Arrhro '< 54 8 J-ll 88 100 6 28 |
I;«;t»• ! J.p.i i,..11. 7 j: 8 48 12 02
Butl.-r J«Acttou. Urn • 73D - M 12 I" ' !
Natrona \mv.- 7 38 8 56 1 - 25 35 02
Tar. M 1..,.., 7 42 •' ,f -' 12 • I- r» if! I
Bprfttifldalo 750 » U { l2 41 162 |
OarrawDt.. 925 100 iCM l jT ,
mmnAar* ; « M 1 0® 4 12 «. :;j I
Ml . . . H n 'J 4.-J 1 -£\ 4 - li
A M. A K. V 31. IV M. V. M :
vi \ i»\ v 11UW Una Mm i . 18 - r I
Cll> HII«I |«riiM »i«l iM-■. i.»- Int.- -tati-.n* at 7 in., j
Hii.l p. in.
NMICTM. \VI KK HAYS ;
\. MA.M.A.M. VM P. j
UMliWj CSt* leave 7 «>o| 9 11 251 2M « 1»»
Slmnwl.u'rK 7 11 9 VI 11 :*7 :i ...
. ii.'iir>l.i .. • i • M r- I ;
Spriupklc ....J 9 30,11 •>'.*' *W 0.. |
T.vreiitiim ... 7 34, 9i'l2 Oh .4i • 1'
Natrona 7 - - 43 Yl 1 : : I r. M :
Biitler Jtinrtion. .« 71. r » • l_' 4 «•' 7 ««•
Butler Junction.. 7 4'. 'J Ii 4 I" 7
' 8 loilO 15 12 19 1 > 724 |
Bl TLER. ... in - - !•• - 1 17 '• 05 :
A. M A M V. M l* M IV M I
BUXDAY TRAINS. -Lem Aflegbeo) Cltj for Bl t- j
Iwiad prlwJpal ii terniadM* n 126> in n ; 1
!.: W I J., IN.
OIVH FOII TIL K KA.-T. WI »,K DAT- ;
l>. M !•. M. I'. SI.
: >, I. It, ~4M. ur ... M 7 j
: 25 7 .7 at- Butler Juix t» ••;. ... 12 2
i -V 7 4»- lv Bull ■ .luu-ti. i .•! " - 1 '
i I 82M 7 L:» .i. i; rl ..Ii 82812 00
7 •*»'. " Allct-'iM iiv Juiittlon " -4 I- '-i
3 51 j 8 04] M L 8 09 11 40
4008 J! Ml Apollo• " 753 11
4 '.*> BMI " hMmrj " 7 30,11 09 ,
-OG »28 •• BU wine.... .. 4 700 1 U
. , •• « Ilhti -Aillc litt*ration. ' '• -'•> !'► I"
] iII • • i i ■' •
i »"• • -I . ri ii .;; >5 ~ ,
V. M R M '* ' 1 •
I
OB flm4ijttni 11
for HaaiMmi lltuouti I Philedi Ipbta
Tin •m -1 '' *' I*."
Station), a.« f.Uow -
Atl.n:ii I im■ dafij ;
l'<)Uti>vtvania Limited " • .
Exj»rc»*». • •*"
Mnln l.'in,
PhiUl.-liMaßxpr**, ' • I M
Eastern
Mllße, -
rUkMTa Mall, Sundajra ottl)
y> !• rm• ! wm '• I B v> '' ''
Atr?. Wivten Hilllc l. Corner imth Ave®oc io4 Bwiltti*
fiiM Str«**-t. Pittf»l»ur|r, »';t.
,i B. in T«'iu.«lOS T J. r. \Y«)OI»,
Gciientl Miir.a_'<*r Uen'l Agent.
V* • '*■
f///"
f j'j %' "
1 The Place to
J GAS COOK
I ING AND HI;ATI::GSTOVI:S,
; GAS BURNERS AND FIX
ATURES, HOSE, BATH TUBS,
ENAMEL AND
IMPROVED WELSHBACH BUS
BURNER,
■ W H O'BRIEN EON'
107 Jefferson St.
Btt KEEPER S SUPPLIES^
SUCH AS
Hiv«->. Smoker-.. Hnxnl Frank's.
S'M'tlon lio.M*s. llt'KMl and Surplus l oumi.i
--e ki'mn
Tiie tfOHJt tfpotis ' tlowest possible
price*.
James 6. Murphy.
Mercer St.. \V<-st End. Batl PH.
.NV;ir Kuim rt reii'i ci ry a
Practical Horse Shoer
WILL ROBINSON.
Foinicrly Horse Slioer at the
0 Wick House has opened busi
ness in a shop in the rear of
the Hotel, where
lie will do IIor»e-Shoeinj{ in
the itlOSt approved style.
TRACK AND ROAD HORSES
. J A SPECIALTY
BUTLKH, PA., THI "WSI)A\", OCTOBICH 14. lhi>7
r":, , ■ ' , C—
, ,_v _
• 7 .
= -# -
\ % v
\ HCRACL AnnCSLET VACNTLL*
7/ '//f JIHIW *
[Copyright, tSg6. by J. B. Llppfncott Co.]
CHATTER IV.
She fled homeward, seeking s;metu
ary like some liuntfxJ creature. My first
! impulse was to follo<w and con-ole, l>ut
: duty and curiosity nailed me t-:« the
■ spot. From tl.e shadow of the cypres-,
fence I could see llurling-ton. myself
unseen. Tie strode pa.st. looking
neither to the ripfiit nor to the left,
walking as a man waJl:s when he has
his goal in sight. I waited, thinking
hard: then I returned to the house.
Nancy met me as 1 passed the thresh
old. Iler sweet face was puckered ar.d
lined by anxiety. "Mather," she gasped,
"is so ill. Please <*>:nc to her at once. I
am frightened."
I entered the parlor. Upon thecouch
lay Mrs. Gerard. Her eyes w ere closed;
lier breath came and went in short
gasps; her pulse was rapid and feeble.
At my suggestion Nancy left the room
to procure some aromat c spirits of am
monia. Before she returned Mrs. Ge
rard opened her eyes.
"Mark," she murmured, faintly—
"w here is he? This faintnees will pass;
but my child —Mr. Livingston, find my
child."
I humored her instantly, fearing hys
teria. The sipht of the lad, I reflected,
would still her poor fluttering heart
more quickly than all the drugs in
Christendom. Mark, of course, was with
Demetrius. I had left the two at the
back of the house, building a small
sloop upon plans furnished by me. The
Greek was no mean mechanic, and Mark
had proved an enthusiastic apprentice.
Domctrius I found busily at work, but '
the boy was not with him.
The impassivity of the Oreek, as I re
cited the facts, annoyed me. He leis
urely assumed coal and waistcoat and
proceeded to put away his tools.
"Don't alarm yourself, sir; I Van find
Mr. Mark. lie is around somewhere."
"Somewhere! Of course; but where?"
"ne ran down to the sands to get
some fresh water for his aquarium."
"The sands! Good God, man, and we
are standing here! Follow me."
I ran at top speed to the water's edge.
Yes, he had left his bucket and wan
dered north, searching, probably, for
shells in the masses of seagrass and
kelp which a recent storm had flung
upon the shore. I noted his footprints
in the wet sand, and close beside them
the large, deeply-indented tracks of
Durlington.
Perdition! What if I arrived too
late?
To the south the sands stretched
widely flat for miles, a superb high
way, fringed with low sand dunes; to
the north were the cliffs, jutting prorn
ontoi.of red sandstone, honey
eota' d with caves. These eaves could
be entered only at the lowest tides,
and were favorite haunts of the boy.
In their dim recesses were exquisite
medusa?, pink, purple and green, star
fish, echinoderms, monstrous abalones
and other marvels. One cavern, to
which the Portuguese had given the
melodramatic title Pirates' cave, had a
mighty fascination for Mark. lie
listened to the yarns of the ancient
mariners and believed implicitly, with
the glorious faith of youth, that chests
of doubloons, dead men's bones and oth
er relics of Spanish buccaneers were
awaiting discovery. Upon the Pacific
slope, especially in springtime, tidal
waves are not infrequent and Mark had
received strict orders from his mother
never to venture alone into the caves.
I make no doubt that he ignored these
commands whenever opportunity
served.
As I ran, vagabond thoughts whirled
like dervishes through my brain. I
recalled the proverbial patience and
C unfitly of madmen. Burlington, armed
With powerful field glasses, must have
watched and waited (possibly for a
full month) for this very chance. From
my knowledge of the man I shuddered
to think what foul use he would make
of it.
When I reached the end of the sand I
j>uuaed. A cove was directly in front of
me—l.l fu c f, a suecessiop of coves, shel
tered, each one, by frowning headlands.
At high tide thet-e coves were inaccessi
ble from tlie shore; and already the
waters were lapping idly at the base of
the cliffs. Seagulls screamed overhead.
The wet sand was blood-red with sun
set reflections. The sun itself was be
low the horizon, the day dying fast
und the short spring twilight stealing
swiftly from landward.
Scrambling across the rocks, 1
scanned anxiously the semicircular
cove in front of me. No human being
was in sight. Hurrying on, I struck
♦+ the sand, and on it the footprints.
These I followed to the inoui.ii of the
Pirates' cave. There—where the peb
bles hid the tracks —the spoor was lost.
My worst suspicions were realized.
J listened intently for the murmur of
voices. Then, .jjf in/ shoes, I
.Stepped noiselessly forward. My right
h i the stock of a pistol
" **'« » -'C.rnrrll
which (at the urgent request o. UJ
I carried habitually in my pocket. The
Od>ce had two chambers, an inner and
an outer, the latter lighted by a small
aperture in the roof. I remembered,
with a sudden gust of hope, that it was
possible to crawl through this aperture
and regain the cliffs above- I had per
formed this feat myself at much pex - -
sonul inconvenience, but Mark modtslii
tie of it. Here, then, was a loophole of
escape.
The silence, accentuated by the drip
and trickle of water, was horrible. A
more appropriate stage setting for a
tragedy could scarcely be conceived.
The dank ivails, slimy with fungoid
growth, harbored no acha. iVliy-t
nymph, indeed, would haunt JSO fearful
a grot? The pools of water courted
blood-stained hands. And in the deep
crannies and fissures were hiding places
for a hecatomb of victims.
I am no coward, but horror smote me
in the f£uX;.
As I glidied in teie shadows tw ihs on
trance of the inner chamber I heard a
peculiar noise—a fretting of garments
against rocks. Pistol in hand, I plunged
forward. High up, crawling painfully
across jagged rocks, was liurlington;
piH whine wao the boy?
"Halt!" X cried, sternly.
The sound of my own voice startled
me; and it startled the madman-abova.
He turned suddenly, grasped helplessly
at the slimv lost his hold and
crashed headlong to iTiy leet. He had
fallen in the most awkward powible
pj*ci?, (iH bttwrcn two roe'.-.. For
the moment every feeling was ban
ished save that of pity; but how to ex
| tricate him passed my understanding.
| He lay senseless back. The
I trapezius muscles had borne the brunt
of tne shock and saved him a broken
neck; but in tlic nature of things lie
must have suffered very grave internal
injuries. But the catastrophe added
fuel to the flames of my anxiety on
Mark's account. Had he escaped
through the hole in the roof? Or —1
dared not finish the sentence.
A hasty survey of the cavern some
what reassured me, and I remarked,
with satisfaction, that the hands of
Burlington were unstained save for the
patches of fungus, that his clothing
bore no evidence of committed crime,
that his features even were calm ajid
peaceful. Bending over his prostrate
body in the sorest perplexity 1 heaxd
a welcome footfall, and an instant later
Demetrius stood beside me.
"Mark?" I stammered. "Have jou
seen Mark?"
"Ho is with his mother," he replied,
coolly. Then he too bent down and
gazed steadily into the face of his. en
emy.
"He is not dead, Mr. Livingston."
The fellow asked 110 questions. He
i accepted the situation with extraor
; dinary stoicism.
"He is very badly injured," I an
swered, curtly—"l fear fatally."
"What are you going to do?" he
whispered.
"Do? Why, get him out of this —at
j once."
ne laid a heavy finger upon my fore
| arm.
l "Mr. Livingston" his hot breath
stirred the hair upon my temples —"Mr.
' Livingston, the tide iscomingin."
The diabolical suggestiveness of the
words palsied my tor.gue.
"The tide is coming in," he repeated,
slowly, a horrid smile upon his clean
cut lips.
" It would be wise, I reflected, to ignore
his meaning.
"Yes," I returned, "we have not a
minute to lose. Take his feet, Demetri
us. Luckily, we are strong mem"
But Demetrius folded his massive
arms and stood erect.
"Take hold, man."
"No."
Then, with a startling change of fa
cial expression, a very petard of words
exploded, a thunderclap from a sullen
cloud. This was his enemy, his mas
ter's enemy, whom destiny had deliv
ered into our bands. He had been
struck down with foul murder in his
heart. lie deserved to die. He should
have died at the hangman's hands a
score of years ago. If we succored him
now, and ill came of it, the blood
of the innocent would be upon our
heads.
All this and much more, with amaz
ing fluency and vehemence. When he
had finished speaking, the plash of wa
ter mingled faintly with the echo of
his concluding words. A wave, the her
ald r*f in<v»Tnlnar tide, had broken
with sullen murmur upon the rocks out
side.
"I have heard what you 6ay. For the
sake of your long years of faithful serv
ice I shall try to forget what has passed.
Take hold."
"Xo," said he, for the second time.
Hot blood flows in the veins of the
Livingstons. I prefer peace, as I have
said elsewhere, but my ancestors were
men of action soldiers. What fol
lowed must be attributed to atavism.
At any rate I pulled out my pistol and
clapped the muzzle to the head of De
jnetrius.
"Take hold, you scoundrel, or, by
heaven, I pull the trigger."
He looked steadily into my eyes and
obeyed. Between us, with infinite dif
ficulty, we dragged the still senseless
Burlington from the perilous cave, and
thence to a place of safety. Here, per
plexed and perspiring, wo rested.
"There is not another house within
two miles," said I. "We cannot take
him home. Demetrius, I'll stay here,
while you—"
"Miss Gerard is conning, sir."
We were close to the cottage, not 300
yards at most from the veranda; but
| MV
i *
' Tako hold, you' scoundrel."
w hat subtile instinct had sent the girl
1 in search of us? She approached and
"nzed pitifully into the lace of her
itttlicr. With the quick apprehension
of a woman she bad grasped the truth.
An accident toastranger? Badly hurt?
He must be carried at once to the house.
The coachman could gallop for a doctor.
"Pardon m-s, if you will order the car
riage I will take this gentleman to the
i doctor myself.."
, "What!" she cried, "take him. away
. —to his death, perhaps? We are not
savages."
Her eyes flashed indignation and
■ scorn.
"I shall take him to the doctor," J re
, turned, curtly.
".Mr. Livingston," said she, "you for
t get yourself most strangely. My moth
er and I would blush to turn a wounded
dog from our doors. I speak for her
in her name Ah, how stupid of me to
stand chattering here!"
She sped away in the gloaming, deaf
, to my entreaties.
"Miss Gerard always has her own
way," remarked the Greek.
"So it seems," I said, dryly.
lie glanced at the face of Burlington.
\<»!iicdlv M: • Nancy had her father's
, "You knew," I blurted out.
"I knew," he answered, quietly, divin-
I ing my meaning.
I "You might have told me.'
"I had no such instructions."
closed his lips, and with them
1 j'uttlier discussion. I decided to *vaif.
! for assistance. Miss Nancy, whose heela
; were nimble as Atalanta's, soon re
! turned.
"Here is brandy," she g;i_sped, "and a
| pillow. John" (the gardener) "will be
! here to help Demetrius, and the eoach
i iQfKi vilj go for the doctor. Mr. Livings
i tun, momma wished to svu jou MOW,
! Will you return with me?"
/ "As soon as John comes."
1 A frown flitted across the smooth
forehead of the Greek. He saw that 1
mistrusted him, and resented it.
"I wonder who he is," she said, soft
ly. "A handsome man, and n gentle
man. Give him some brandy, Mr. Liv
ingston."
"I dare not till the doctor comes.
TTis pulse is not faTTing."
Presently John joined us. With
creditable ingenuity lie had impre
ssed a litter, which he brought in a
barrow. Having helj '. to place the
wounded man uj on this, 1 hasteued for
ward whh Miss Nancy. The others fol
lowed at a snail's pace; for Burlington
was no lightweight, and I warned them
j that any jolting might prove fatal.
"Mr. Livingston," said the girl, as
soon as we were out of earshot, "1 told
you the other day there was a mystery ,
here. Then it was guesswork on my
part. It is gue-swork no longer. My
mother's seizure this afternoon was in
some way connected with this stranger.
When I told her what had happened, she
said: 'Don't bring him here, Nancy;
don't bring him here.' "
"Your mother's wishes —"
"Have been overruled by me. This
poor man must and shall stay here till
we learn the extent of his injuries."
"You have taken upon yourself a great ,
responsibility," I replied, gravely.
"Ah! you disapprove?"
I thought I marked a shade of anxiety
in her tones. I did not reply at once, for j
j the words of a great and kindly writer j
j were bubbling up in my mind: "What-!
.ever comes from the brain carries the
hue of the place it comes from, and
whatever comes from the heart carries
the heat and color of its birthplace."
I The lobes of Miss Nancy's brain were
j well developed; but her heart —God
! bless her! —was big enough and pas
i sionate enough for a dozen ordinary
maidens. And this, according to the
writer aforesaid, is its it should be.
"I sec that you disapprove," she con
tinued, piqued by my silence.
"Your eyes are blurred." I replied.
1 "You have. 6beyed, Miss Nancy, the dlc
j tates of your heart; and heart, nine
times out of ten, proves a better guide
than head."
Mrs. Gerard received me in the parlor.
"Will he die?" she demanded, anx
iously.
"lie has had an awful fall. Mrs. Ger
ard. And this prolonged insensibility
argues the gravest internal injuries."
She covc vd her face with trembling
hands. Once, loug ago, she liad loved
this man, had given him that divine
gift, a girl's immaculate heart; and
now, as the tears trickled through her
slender fingers, I knew that she had
turned baek the tear-stained pages of
the book of life and was rereading, ten
derly and reverently, the sweet story
of her youth. O memory, "act ive moth
er of all reason," what, mad pranks thou
playest!
"Nancy is right," she said, presently.
"1 cannot turn him away."
"He is quite harmless, now."
"Yes, yes. The doctor will soon be
here ?"
'"Within an hour."
"Nancy is attending to everything. I
—I cannot —"
"It is not necessary that you should,"
I interrupted. "Mrs. Gerard, try to
think of something els*>. Save your
strength. It may be needed later."
"He was not responsible," she wailed.
"His father before him was—well, not
mad, but very eccentric. And he had
been working like a slave for weeks,
sitting up, writing, till three and four
in the morning. That, and his terrible
jealousy, wrecked his reason."
"Happy days are in store for you, Mrs.
Gerard. This cruel anxiety which has
preyed upon you Mi-.
at an end. You will be able to take your
proper place at his side. He needs you.
She smiled pathetically.
"Mr. Gerard can stand alone."
The coarsest ear might detect a dis
cord. The conviction flashed across me
that the second marriage had proved as
disastrous as the first. I had no right
to judge Mark Gerard; but from what
I had seen of the man I was ready to
pronounce him no fit mate for the
gentle woman beside me. My heart
ached for her.
Of course 1 said nothing of what had
passed in the Pirates' cave. She es
teemed and trusted Demetrius; and the
facts would have shocked her inex
-1 pressibly. It was important, however,
that I should seek light and find it. At
present 1 was in the dark.
"Demetrius," I remarked, carelessly,
"is a faithful servant. How did you
come by him?"
"Surely Mr. Gerard told you?"
"He told me little or notliing."
She seemed surprised, but answered
my question. Mark Gerard had picked
up the Greek in New York, where he
had found him running the streets, ab
solutely destitute and starving. llehtid
jfiven him a liberal education, aud, when
he was old enough, employed him as a
confidential servant. Demetrius had
proved honest, intelligent, and ex
traordinarily receptive. Gerard liked
plastic servants, and he molded the lad
to suit himself
"Demetrius," faltered Mrs. Gerard, in
conclusion, "has been with ine ever
since that awful time. Nearly 20 jvi
he has given up to inc. Mr. Gerard has
paid him well, but money cannot can
cel such obligation*. Have you talked
much with him?"
"He won't talk with me, Mrs. Ger
ard,"
"lie (>» remarkably well informed —
In his way, quite a metaphysician."
"Hid philosophy," I remarked, "does
not temper his hostility to me."
"Hostility?" she repeated. "That is
i=uoug a word- lib is ji.aioua, I danr
£ay, because you have supplanted him.
In a sense; and the poor fellow was not
brought up as a Christian. You know
Mr. Gerard's views. Demetirius is a
pagan. When you understand him
: | be tter, Mr. Livingston, you w ill appre
ciate I»iui,"
"I have no doubt of it."
Burlington, was needing my atten
tion, so 1 said no more. My immediate
departure from the cottage was not can
vassed, and I gladly left the matter in
abev auoe, \\ ith my hand on the handle
of the door, I asked oue Important
question.
"Shall 1 send a telegram to Mr.
I Gerard?"
She hesitated, scanning my face v.itli
i troubled eyes.
Yes,-' bhe gnsyverpd, wearily, "i sup
f pose so,"
Her thoughts were straying lp an
i other direction.
"And you won't quarrel with De
metrius?"
• | So, after all, my foolish man's face
> i had betrayed me.
As lor Demetrius," I answered, "I
shall remember, Mrs. Gerard, liow
much yon owe hint, and, if ever the
chance presents itself, pay a portion of
the debt."
l CHAPTER V
i Wheu does a man -a young man—
-1 ' l>egin to take hipisclf seriously? (>b
| viously, when he realizes tliat the in
tegrity of the human rope may depend
UpOB the soundness of a single strand;
: I that the smallest bolt in a mighty bridge
" ' may not l*: withdrawn or suffered to |
" ! rust without disastrous consequence# j
' i that he, insignificant mortal, may make
or mar not only h:s own life, but the
j 1 ives of others. These platitudes are
1 [ prod aimed h« airly from IflOO pulpits; j
but the practical applieatlou of alf
uaening must come from within, not
from without.
The doctor, a country practitioner
with average braius and a capital "bed
side" manner, made a eaa-eful . xamina
ti.-ji of I'. nli! 'ton and murmured two
words: "Cerebral concussion."
"Prognosis," he continued, rubbing
softly his pince-nez, "is quite out of the
question at present. The severe shock
to the nerve <*ells and tlie til>ers of the
brain may produce violent, symptoms.
Upon the other hand, a really serious
lesion may not have taken place."
1 Vmetrius, who was present, listened
attentively.
"Mr. Burlington," he observed, quief
ly, "is subject to fits of violence."
"Eh?" said the doctor; "what?"
"To fits of violence," the Greek re
peated. "He's a very dangerous man;
at times insane."
"But incapable of hurting a fly, now,"
I observed.
The doctor pursed up his lips and ad
justed his pince-nez. His mannerisms
had begun to irritate me.
"Is this—er—the Mr. Burlington, the
author?"
"Yes."
"Indeed! A singularly handsome
man. But this" —he touched lightly ;
Burlington's head—"indicates a some- j
what unbalanced miud."
"How long will the coma last?"
"I cannot say. Possibly 43 hours,
lie may come to himself in ten min
utes."
Demetrius drew him*uside.
"Are you certain," he whispered, im
pressively, "that he is absolutely un
co n sc ious—se nsel ess ? "
The doctor regarded Ids questioner
attentively.
"That is a very strange remark, sir."
"i know the man," Demetrius replied,
"lie is not. malingering," returned the
doctor, with emphasis. "Of eourse he
must be watched. I'il send a respon
sible nurse. Meantime you can feed
him; but no stimulants. I'll call the
first thing to-morrow. I have a most
important case; but send for me, if
necessary."
When the dour had closed behind his
portly person I turned to Demetrius.
"Why did you ask that question?"
"Mr. I.iviug.ston, if you had seen this
man's work at Bed Gulch you would
understand. lie has the cunning of a
iiend."
Ills voice quavered; and his eyes, the
eyes of a frightened animal, sunk be
fore mine. My suspicions swelled to
certainty. The Greek was a coward.
And 1, knowing the facts, felt sorry for
him.
"I saw him fall full six feet onto the
back of his head. He ought to be a dead
man."
"Yes," the Greek repeated, "he ought
to be dead."
I dismissed him. Presently Miss
Nancy entered the room and seated her
self lieside me. To my remonstrance
she turned a deaf ear. It was already
late, and I told her frankly that she
ought to be in bed.
"I shall watch this night with you.
Demetrius has told mamma what the
doctor said about —about the violent
symptoms. You vvon'thave Demetrius,
so you must take me."
"Demetrius has alarmed your mother
mast unnecessarily. I cannot for the
life of me understand —"
"A woman," she interrupted, delibca - -
ntely ignoring my real meaning. "Of
eourso not. As for Demetrius, he has
done his duty. I ptppose to do mine.
You can talk or go to sleep, just as you
please. For my part, I should prefer to
talk, it can't hurt the patient, and will
wm to pass tlie time."
She settled herself, smiling, in the
chair.
"The doctor," she continued, "is an
old woman, but I like him because lie
is an optimist. He thinks Mr. Burling
ton will get well. Oh, Ido hope and
pray that this may be so. You see, I
feel that Mark was really responsible
for the accident. The poor man must
have seen the boy's tracks in the sand
and followed them out of curiosity into
fhe cave. Then lie naturally wondered
how Mark left the cave, and tried to
follow the same rood. And it is so in
teresting to think that he is the Bur
lington. I've read some of his articles
and one of his books, and I'm ever so
sorry for him."
"And why?"
"Because it's plain—to a woman—
that he has been the under dog in the
fight. Not that he ever was whipped."
"You are catholic in your tastes," I
observed. "You like the doctor because
he is an optimist, and Burlington be
cause he writes a lot of morbid, ma
terialistic rubbish I know a third per
son who is cultivating a wholesome and
cheering style, ile, po&feiWy, In out
side the pale of your sympathy."
"lie probably doesn't need it."
"He wants an allopathic dose, to be
taken immediately."
This was true. Flopping about in a
quagmire of perplexity, I realized my
dependence upon others.
"Go to your goddess," she said.
I had forgotten the gotliteaa, and
smiled.
"Ah, you have had a surfeit from
her."
"No, my goddess feels as you do. A
lame dog limping over a stile is a sight
that never fails to fill her pretty eyes
with bwv^—V
"A big, lazy mitstiff blinking in the
sun makes her want to poke him up
with a sharp stick. Your goddess is a
sensible woman. It is not sympathy
your mastiff waul*, bui 0 square meal."
' "That is very true," I admitted. Un
der the pressure of circumstances I had
missed my dinner. My chance shaft
struck the target. Miss Nancy jumped
energetically from her chair and fled.
When she returned, a tray-, handsomely !
garnished, testified to the of
iny aim.
"Here," she said, laughing, "is your
bone, poor doggie."
I attacked with vigor some cold
chicken.
"Your mother," rah* J. "-U'.IVMVS VI' II V
you are here?"
"A most violent assumption," she re
turned, coolly. "My mother, as you
suggested, should be spared all worry.
I'm here on my own responsibility."
"Mr. Gerard will come to-morrovr"
"And you think he wilj \XJ angry. X
V4U assure you you are mistaken. Mark
its the apple of his father's eye. He
looks upon me as » vegetable of no eon
ttequenee, a sort of pumpkin."
llor indifference was pathetic.
"Wo have not seen him," she mur
muml, "for more than six months. He
may stay with us for j£ UvlUf*,'.'
Mark Uerard passed a* her father.
His long absences from home were ac
cepted by Miss Nancy, without com
ment, as commonplace facts, connected
—so she supposed —with business
affairs. Of his standing in nan Fram-is
. ..she waseimrely ignorant. Thegirl had
been educated in the cast and abroad.
She read no new- papers, usU«d no |
indiscreet questions. Custom had atro
phied curiosity.
"Of course, I said, opologetieallv,
"ho is a very busy man.'
"He must be," she returned.
Then she. Mined IKU.K and closed her
cy.\ inaoi itt feeding is not an ,
: -.thctle sight; aud I confess that I was j
hungry. As I munched itway, tl.e two |
fu'-es almost within touch of my hand
< hallcnged attention. The likeness be- t
Inern lather and daupnter grew sta. „
ling l —so start Imp, indeed, that 1 pulped
di wn a glass of wine to quiet my brist-
I ; sens!} ilitica. No woii.b r Mark
Gerard had sent her abroad and to the
cu-st. With t hat face eonfn nting him,
his apprehensions, poor devil, niu»t
run riot.
"There is thunder In the air," said
Mis- Nancy. raising her heavy ]!Js.
"Thunder?" I repeated, incredulous
"And lightning. Well, it w ill clear the
atmosphere. The barometer has been
r.t *&et fair' Ion? enough."
Her perspicacity confounded me.
With men of all sorts and conditions I
was familiar; with women 1 had come
! but seldom in contact.
"Yes. we are smarter than you think,"
she said, divining my thouphts. "By
the-bye. why do you dislike Demet
rius?"
"Your mother says he is a pagan."
"So was Marcus Anrelitis. Mr. Liv
ingston. why can't, you talk to me
frankly? Forget that lam a pirl."
>'iie spoke gravely—with emphasis,
without excitement. A man, I re
flected, might do well to pick up the
• pauntlet she had thrown down. A
friendly contest of wits w-as just the
tonic I needed; but Mark Gerard had
my word, and my tongue was tied.
"Demetrius, Miss Nancy, is a Greek,
with a Greek's subtlety a:id cunning,
t'nless 1 nm very much mistaken, he
, has served Mr. Gerard, faithfully, I'll
1 admit, because it was to his interest to
: do so. He believes in the doctrine of
expediency, that the end justifies the
L.eans. That is why I call him a i cgan."
"Yes." she. paid, thoughtfully, "you
are right. Hush!"
She moved swiftly across the room,
opened the door, glanced keenly to
right and left, and returned to her chair.
"1 thought," she whispered, "that
I heard a noise outside. I was mis
taken."
"Your nerves are —"
"In excellent order, thank vou. Mr.
Livingston—" her voice betrayed for
the first time exicitement—" look! He
is coining to."
1 sprang to my feet, and together we
approached the bed and bent inquiring
ly over the patient, lliscyelids twitched
convulsively, and then oj>ened. The
man was conscious. At the same mo
ment my car caught the sound of a dis
tinct cnak in the passage. My eyes
i.ought Miss Nancy's.
"That was what I heard just now,"
she r." ured. "It's nothing; nil these
wooden nouses creak."
Burlington monoj)oli<!ed our attention,
and no more was said. The doctor had
left instructions, which were followed
to the letter. Miss Nancy supjiortcd the
sick man's head, while I, with n tea
srpoon. fed him slowly with prepared
bouillon. Burlington swallowed the
broth v\ith difficulty, and made no at
tempt to speak, lie was not violent,
and apparently was not in pain. We
waited patiently for his first words.
"Where am I?" he stammered, when
the broth was consumed and his head
once more upon the pillow.
"With friends," I answered.
"Friends?" His voice was singularly
strong and harsh. "I have no friends.
n»! I remember; the cave, yes —and
the boy."
ne attempted to move, and groaned
deeply.
"Mr. Burlinpton, you know me, I
think; Hugo Livingston. Let mc en
treat you to keep perfectly quiet. Don't
move, and don't talk. I can give you
a hypodermic injection; but you are
better without it. The doctor will be
itc.ro to uiuriuw murciuf early."
ne nodded and closed his eyes. Of
course further talking between Nancv
and me was impossible. We sat In si
lence through the watches of the night,
performing from time to time such of
fices as were required.
The birds had begun to twitter their
matins when the doctor drove up. He
had been attending a dj ing patient.
He protested against Nancy's vigil, and
pronounced the patient in no immedi
ate danger.
"You will please go to bed. Miss Ger
ard, or at any rate lie down. I insist.
" You aro right Huih!"
Demetrius will take your place; and 1
shall relieve Mr. Livingston. Ferhape.
you will be kind enough to ask the U?feel>.
to come to me at once, t expect tho
nurse in half ar> hour."
I glaaoed at my watch as Nancy
obeyed. It was six o'clock, and the
household was already astir. De
metrius, I knew, was no sluggard, no
He-abed. He would answer the sum
mons
diate action might, hang the life of llur
i lington.
Distracted by doubt, I walked to the
window and ilunp up the lower sash,
j The fresh air flooded the room; vilh it
came the sounds and odvtf* of spring.
! The meadow-larks (Cal
! has few sinpinp birds) had be
gan their roulades, to which the staccato
notes of the gulls and the myriad-voiced
chorus of frogs from the marshes east
of the sand-dunes furnished {v cuflous
and effective ;iecu*upanhnent. The
V>t the violet, heliotrope and
Jasmines hung lightly on the breeze.
The lawn sparkled with dew. The
lanceolate leaves of the eucalypti quiv
ered against an opalescent sky. Loan
ing out of the wiodPW, my tired eyes
rested VP"! 1 Pacific, which wooed'
uie lo us embrace with iv tender mur
mur of welcome. For the multitude of
sea-birds could prophesy that the
miickesrel and sardines were in the bay.
The cormorants were hard at work,
plunging with mighty splashes into th«
water. I caught now an<\ >hc.
pleam of n maci{e >v ; » u hbelr monstrous
<■ mi noted Idly the parasites
snapping up the morsels of fish care
lessly dropped by their piitrons. W hat
a paradise! To me a ga.rdeu of Eden,
with its tree of Vuowledge of pood and
i c\ il, serpent, its Eve, and, alas! the
i ungel with the flaming sword.
It falls to the lot of nil sons of Adam
to wander OflCe down the enchanted
glades of Eden. How many recognize
| the place too late, when the gate is
j closed against them forever!
My thoughts were put to flight by the
j sound of Naiicy'o vylve. She beckoned
I iiitferly from the passage.
"An i.\traordinary thing has liap
! pened," slio gasped. "Demetrius has
I pone. He never went to bed at all. And
—and he has taken Mark with him!"
"Gone!" I ejaculated. So the fellow
! had turned tail. His nerve* <*t the crit
-1 icjil hud lulled.
No 4Q
"IT,- Jul* left n Iftter for mamma. She
ik reading il now . I must go to her."
Flinging thi>so disjointed phrase* at
my head she left me, and I returned
thoughtfully to the Ixdside of Bur
lington. As yet he had shown no dis
position to talk, flie doctor's second
examination bad provoked groans and
affirmative rods iu response to impor
tant questions. The man was terribly
bruised: but his bones, mirabile dictu.
Mere still intact. Quiet, of course, waa
imperative; and auy excitement might
prove fatal. I led the doctor to the win
dow and told him briefly that
l*euctrius had left the house. "Any
thing you need, doctor, I can pet. Pray
command me." The doctor, however,
refused my services, and went himself
'.o |uepare a liniment. I accompanied
him to the door, and when I turned con
fronted the melancholy eyes of Bur
lington. The tire was out of them; in
. its place was a question.
"Am 1 in the house of Mark Gerard?**
he asked, harshly.
"You are in the house of Mrs. Gcr
urd," I replied. It was futile to evade
the truth, but 1 wondered how he would
take it.
lie took it, as might be expected,
hardly—in silence. The hot blood
flamed across his forehead, and ebbed
instantly, leaving the pale complexion
livid— a danger signal which quickened
m> own pulses. The situation was in
tensely dramatic. Ills next question
surprised me:
"Is the Greek here?"
"lie was here."
"Curse him! Don't let him come into
this room."
He closed his eyes and said no more.
After all, he had said enough. The
mere words, coupled with the tones of
his deep voice, horrified me. Manifest
ly, his appetite for blood was not yet
glutted. And this man was the father
of Nancy!
An hour later the letter of Demetrius
was placed in my hands. I had finished
a hasty breakfast, and was sitting,
smolting, upon the veranda. The doc
tor and the nurse were with Burlington.
The letter ran thus:
"Poar Madame: Acting In accordance
with the Instructions I received from my
master, I have been compelled to leave your
house and take your son with me. We can
camp at the hut on the island" (Mark had
described this hut to me with enthusiasm;
it had been built by his father and was well
provisioned for the purposes of duck shoot
ing). "and Mark, as you know, will be
safe and happy there with me. I dare not
take the chances of exposing the boy to
the fury of a powerful madman. Tours re
spectfully. madame, DKMETRIUS."
Nancy brought me this carefully writ
ten epistle, and with it u message from
her mother. Mrs. Gerard was pros
trated by the events of the past 24 hours
and unable to leave her room. She ap
proved the flight of Demetrius.
"He is certainly faithful," said Miss
Nancy.
"Why are you not lying down?" 1
asked, severely.
"1 could not rest while—while the
thunder is in the air. Mamma has just
given me the key to the puzzle. She
has told me that Mr. Burlington is a
madman—that a terrible grudge
against father, and wishes to murder
poor Mark. How horrible!"
"Very horrible," I said, gravely.
"And you," she continued, "were sent
down to stand between Mark and this
dreadful monster. I did you an in
justice. Forgive me."
She held out her hand frankly, with
an air of good-fellowship which argued
the lack of a tenderer sentiment.
"But the monster," she continued,
withaslightshiver, "is surely helpless?!'_
"That, Miss Saney. we do not know.
We think so."
'"Mamma also told me that he had
once tried to murder father, and in
stead had killed his partner. 1 could
see that the mere telling of the story
upset her terribly. Oh, Mr. Livingston,
my heart misgives me when I think that
I'm responsible for this man being here.
What have I done in my folly and con
ceit?"
Her distress was most painful to wit
ness; and naturally 1 offered gome
crumb*. o-f comfort, pointing out that
she had acted according to the dictates
of her heart, a woman's wisest counsel
or, and doubtless for the best, ulti
mately,
"Why has this man," she asked, fierce
ly, "been suffered to heap such wretch
edness upon the heads of innocent peo
ple?"
I was silent.
"llave you nothing to say?" she de
manded, hotly.
"There is reason in everything," I
answered—"the inexorable logic of
cause and effect. I believe that the an
swer to most of our questions may be
found, if we search patiently. The
problem of .human suffering is to be
solved, but not by random guesswork.
The sufferings of such a woman as your
mother are to be evidence at a future
state of existence."
She listened attentively to my crude
response, a softer light suffusing her
line eyes. The thought struck me that
both of us, she as well as I, had taken
life too lightly and needed the discipline
of reflection. To me personally things
iu genera] had begun to assume strange
proi>or*ions; somo of my mountain*
dwindled to mole hills, and vice versa;
substuiice melted intoshadow; the idea)
absorbed the real. The process is often
rapid, and, like a trip across the English
channel, most upsetting.
"Yesterday," said Nancy, after a sig
nificant pause, "I particularly notioed
the sunset. The lino of surf, with the
light behind it, was purple, not white;
and yet I knew, of course, that it WO*
white. It is so with the human soul»
we meet; their color depends upon the
light, and our own eyes deceive us.
And there are always the two roads,
one leading to Heaven—on earth, I
m«tu—-and the other to—"
"Tho land of regret May yon never
set foot there!"
I spoke -warmly.
"Thank you; you would— **
"Turn myself into a sign post for
your sake. Most assuredly."
We gazed calmly and dispassionately
into each other's eyes. Perhaps, all in
all, it was the bitterest moment of my
life, for 1 saw that she had guessed my
secret and remained unanoved; and yet
—the leaven of sweetness w as there.
|TO BE coxnwrw>.)
In Trililnc.
Delia—Why are you standing before
the mirror and screwing up your fact
into such funny shapes?
Bella—l'm practicing a look of
amazement. The girls are going to givo
me a surprise party to-night.—N. Y.
Journal.
The It ii 11nv
Visitor—How do you maintain order
among so many convicts?
Warden of Women's Prison —Oh,
that's easy—good behavior is rewarded
with permission to wear such ribbons
and trinkets as the poor creatures pos
sess.—Chicago Journal.
A Dutiful Sun.
Tommy Black—ls that your new hat?
Mrs. Wall —Y'es, Tommy. But where
are you going in such a hurry?
Tommy—l've got to go home and teU
mother to look out of the window when
you go out. She said she must see thai
hat. —N. Y. Journal.