mpoOL^m ELAMEfw by LOUIS JOSEPH COFY~RI.CHTI9O9 Sy IS^JOSZPH^VAN 16 SYNOPSIS. The story opens at Monte Carlo with Col. Terence O'Rourke, a military free lance anil something of a Rambler, In his hotel. leaning on the balcony he sees a beautiful girl who suddenly enters the elevator and passes from sight. At the teaming table O'Rourke notices two men watching him. One Is the Hon. Bertie Cilynn, while his companion is Viscount Des Trebes, a duelist. The viscount tells him the French government has directed him to O'Rourke as a man who would undertake a secret mission. At his apart ment, O'Rourke, who had agreed to un dertake the mission, finds a mysterious letter. The viscount arrives, hands a sealed package to O'Rourke, who is not to open it until on the ocean. A pair of dainty slippers are seen protruding from under a doorway curtain. The Irishman finds the owner of the mysterious feet to be his wife, Beatrix, from whom he had run away a year previous. They are reconciled, and opening the letter he finds that a Rangoon law firm offers him 100,000 pounds for a Jewel known as the Pool of Flame and left to him by a dy ing friend, but now in keeping of one named Chambret in Algeria. O'Rourke worsts the nobleman In a duel. The wife bids O'Rourke farewell and he promises to soon return with the reward. He dis covers both Qlynn and the viscount on board the ship. As he finds Chambret there is an attack by bandits and his friend dies telling O'Rourke that he has left the Pool of Flame with the governor general, who at sight of a signet ring Kiven the colonel will deliver over the jewel. Arriving at Algeria the Irishman finds the governor general away. Des I'rebes makes a mysterious appointment, and tells O'Rourke that he has gained possession of the Jewel by stealing It. In a duel O'Rourke masters the viscount, secures possession of the Pool of Flame and starts by ship for Rangoon. He finds the captain to be a smuggler who tries to steal the Jewel. It Is finally secured by the captain and O'Rourke escapes to land. With the aid of one Danny and his sweetheart, O'Rourke recovers the Pool of Flame. On board ship once more, bound for Rangoon, a mysterious lady appears. O'Rourke comes upon a lascar about to attack the lady, who Is a Mrs. Prynne, and kicks the man Into the hold. Mrs. Prynne claims she Is en route for Indiana on a mission for the king. O'Rourke Is attacked by the lascar, who secures the Pool of Flame, the captain Is shot and the lascar Jumps Into the sea. The ship arrives In port. CHAPTER XXVl.—(Continued.) "Get 011 with your story. What about Airs. Prynne?" demanded O'Rourke, ej - elng his servant curiously and trying to fathom his but half-dis guised and wholly awkward air of self esteem. Plainly the boy thought highly of himself because of some thing he had accomplished, some ex ploit of prowess or stroke of diplo macy as yet undisclosed. "Yissor. ... I was telllr/ ye it seemed to me the height /jf rnaneness she was displayin', ma'hin' this same Mrs. Prynne, whin *t»'as mesilf knew, none betther, how much ye've laid out on her svccount and hersilf not waltin' wy settle up wid ye—" "\Viiat business was that of yours?" , ' " 'Twas none, sor. Rut yersilf had ' keeled over and was did to ivrything, and what am I for if not to look out for ye at such times? .... So I'm afther sthoppin' thim two just as they would be lavin' their staterooms, and sz'l, 'Missus Prynne,' sz'l, 'me mastber's compliments and he'd like a worrd wid yees before gone en tirely.' And 'What's this?' sz'she wid a fine show of surprise—the dayceyt ful huzzy!—though I'm watchin' her and thinkin' she was frigutened about somethin', from the white turn av the face av her. Sz'she: "Tls in the divvle's own hurry I am the minute,' or worrds to the same iffict. Sz'she: 'And phwat will he be wantin' av me?" 'A momint's conversation wid ye,' ez'l. And sz'she: 'l've no time. Let me pass.' 'l'll be doing,' sz'l, 'nawthln' like thot,' for be now I'm thinkin' there's somethin' deeper behint her fluster and flurry thin a mere desire to bilk ye—p'rhaps 'twas this thing !n --tuo-ishum I've heard ye mintion. And the next minit I'm sure ut, for she goes white as snow in the face and the eyes of her begins to burn like cold grane lire and she screams to Ce clle ior help and is afther whipping out a gun to blow me out av her way wid; but 'tis mesilf thot's be way av bein' too quick for her and takin' the pistol away; and be the mercy av the Saints Mlsther Dravos hears the shindy and hops down Just In time to snatch another gun out of the hand av that same Cecile, and he grabs the gurl and turns her into a stateroom and shuts the dure on her and —" "And,' interrupted O'Rourke In a black rage, rising and turning back his sleeves —"And now I'm going to give ye the father and mother of all thrashings, ye Insolent puppy! How dare ye lay hands on a lady " "Ow, murtber!" chattered the boy, leaping away. "Be aisy, yer honor, and hear me out, for 'tis thin ye'U not be blamin' me, but if ye do I'll take the batin" widout a worrd, sor." "Very well," assented O'Rourke om inously. "But be quick about it, for I'm mistrustful of ye altogether. Get on, ye whelp!" Danny placed the table between them with considerable expedition. "Aw, listhen now," he pleaded. "While Misther Dravos was 'tendin' to Cecile. this Miß3is Prynne was scrappln' like a wildcat, scratching and bitin', and 'til til I can do to kape her by wrap fpls'm* msvla tight about her and hold- In' her so, and I'm makin' a grab at her waist whin be accident like what do I catch hold av but something un dernathe as big as a hin's egg—a stone she's carryln' round her neck, the same as yer honor did wid the Pool as Flame; and be the feel av ut ut's the same entirely; and thin I'm sure 'tis the same and thot some scul duggery's be way av havin" been put upon ye." "What the divvle!" "Wan momlnt more. . . . Now In flghtln' wid me the collar av her waist has come unfastened and me self can see the string av ribbon that's holding the thing there. So I sez to mesilf, ez'l, ' 'Tls strange enough to bear Investigatin',' sz'l, 'an' I'll be takin' a chaust at this if the masther do be afther flayin' me alive. So I calls Misther Dravos and gets him to hould her fast while I takes out me knife and cuts thot ribbon and pulls the thing out widout any Immodesty whatever; and there on thot ribbon is a chamois-case, all sewed up, and I'm rippin' it open an' finding—this!" "God In Heaven!" cried O'Rourke, stupefied and agapp; for Danny, hav ing worked up to his climax, had drar matlcally whipped from his pocket and cast upon the table between them the Pool of .p'lame. He looked up, blind to the glee and triumph In Danny's face. "How did ye come be this?" he de manded, speaking slowly and steadily, as one who, having drunk more than enough, listens to his own enunciation to detect in it the slur that liquor brings. "I mean—l mean—how could ye have taken this from the woman when it lay all the time at the bottom of the sea—six hundred miles and more behind us?" "Ask Misther Dravos if ye do not belave me, sor. How would Ibe hav in' It at all, widout I got It like I've told ye? . . . 'Tls the re&'i Pool Q f Flame ye're handlin'; that's sure. T'other otj«j— -Stone the serang flung iatb the say, sor, was a counter feit." "How do ye know that?" 'Alsly enough, yer honor; be puttin' the maid Cecile on the witness stand. 'Twas this way: I tuk the stone from "God In Heavenl" Cried O'Rourke. Missus Prynne and Mlsther Dravos and mesilf locked her In her cabin. Thin afther talkin* things over we let Ceclle out and be dint aV threats and persuashions, got her to tell what she knew." "Qo on." "She sez thot Frinchman ye kilt back there In Algiers, sor, is at the bottom av it all, only he's not did be cause ye didn't make a clane Job av ut, but lift him wid the laste susphic ion av the breath av life in the body av him." "I was afraid of that," nodded O'Rourke. "The next time we meet. Des Trebes and 1, there'll be no mis take about it" "She sez thot befure n« fought wid ye he'd taken measuremlnts ay the stone and made a wax mould av ut, BO thot whin he failed to kill yersllf and had got his strength back, he wlDt to Paris and had an lmitashun av ut made there—somehow be fusing chape stones together and all thot, I belave. 'Twas lxplnslve an' him tight up for money, BO he takes Missus Prynne In to partnership and she puts up the cash. Thin —they've been watchin' yersllf all the time, sor—they sets Cap'n Hole onto ye to get the stone away, and he does It like ye know. Afther ye escaped from the Pelican, he goes ashore and mates the lady at her hotel and daylivers the stone to her, getting his pay and the lmita shun into the bargain, he insistin' on thot because he knows ye'll be comin' back for the Pool av Flame, and he's afraid av ye—afraid ye'll kill him If he can't turn over a ruby to ye like the wan he stole. So 'twas the faked stone we tuk from him thot same night and the same we brought aboard the Ranee and the same the 6erang sthole from ye." "I begin to see. Put how about the serang? What did Cecile have to say in explanation of him?" "She couldn't account for him at all, sor, save thot mebbe the natives in Rangoon had somehow got wind av the fact that the stone was comin' back and a gang av thim set out to stale ut. She sez Missus Prynne niv er cud account for the way they dis covered she had ut, but they seemed to know pretty certain sure, sor, for ye'll recall they niver bothered y% at all at first, and 'twas only be -ehanst, like, thot the serang got the Itnltashun from ye:" "But what about Des Trebes? Did the maid vay?" "Nlj more than he'd been lift In Paris, sor." "And what "ev ye done with the two of them, Mrs. Prynne and the maid? Are they still locked up safely?" "Divvle a bit, yer honor. 'Twas im possible to kape them so, Dravos said, wld Missus Prynne threatening to yell bloody murther out av the poort and kick up such a row thot the authori ties wud be down on us —if we didn't let her go. Besides, we'd got what we wanted out av her, and pwhat was the use av holdln' her anny longer?" "So ye let them go T" "Ylssor." "I could kill ye for It," said O'Rourke, "and Dravos, too; for there's a deal of matters I'd like to be inquiring into with the lady this blessed minute. But, Danny boy, there's nothing in the world I can't forgive ye now, for what ye've done for me, and 'twill be a strange thing if I don't sorve ye handsomely when 1 come into a fortune. . . . Now don't be standin' there like a ninny, but be off with ye and pack me things before I lift me band to ye. 'Tis In hast* we are—with Des Trebes alive and Mrs. Prynne on the loose; and there'll be no such thing as rest for either of us until we reach Rangoon." CHAPTER XXVII. "Danny ..." said O'Rourke without looking up from the occupa tion which had engrossed his atten tion for the last three hours; and for the first time in that peribd he spoke audibly, making an end to the mum bled confabulation he had been hold ing with himself, a Murray's Guide, a Bradsbaw, an Indian railway guide, several steamship folders and a large colored map of the Indian empire. "What day's this day, Danny?" Dan/iy thought laboriously. " 'Twas this worn' we lift th' Ranee, sor? . . . Thld yestiddy was Wednes day." "Ar.d today Thursday, be logical progiess of reasoning, eh?" "Aw, yiss, sor." "And what's the time?" Danny consulted O'Rourke's watch on the bureau. "A quarter av twilve." "Then bestir yourself, ye lazy good foh-nothing, and pack up me things." "Aw!" cried Danny, expostulant. "Our train leaves at two. Ye have an hour and a half." "Aw, but yer honor, la ut no rlst at all we'll iver be havin'?" "Ye can rest on the train," said O'Rourke. "I've just ten days left in which to reach Rangoon, where I've an appointment to keep with a lady, Dan ny, to wit, Madame O'Rourke. D'ye mind her, and do ye blame me, Dan ny?" Danny became suddenly extraordin arily busy. "Why did ye not say as much to begin with, yer honor?" he complained. "As if I wouldn't work me hands to the stumps av thim. . . ." "'Tis now Thursday noon," con tinued O'Rourke thoughtfully. "The two o'clock train's scheduled to land us in Calcutta at ten Saturday night. At eight Sunday morning a steamer leaves Diamond Harbor for Rangoon, scheduled for a fair-weather passage of three days. That'll leave us a lit tle leeway, barring accidents. But we've ..o time to waste." "But how'll we be catching thot steamer at Di'mind Harbor, sor? How far's that from Calcutta, no>v, an' will there be thralns at thai, hour av the night?" "That's to be dealt with as it turns up, ftanny. There's only forty miles between the two places, and if there's no train, we'll charter a motor-car or a boat down the Hughli. . . ." The latter expedient O'Rourke final ly ndopted, although he could have af forded a comfortable night in a ho tel at Calcutta, had he deemed it wise. But in the fifty-six hours of unmitigat ed sweltering that he and Danny en dured in their flight across India he had leisure to think matters over very carefully, with the result that, all things considered, he felt justified In assuming the world to be in league against him and tn shaping his course accordingly. Therefore it were un wise to permit himself to be seen and recognized in Calcutta, or even to lin ger on the soli of India an Instant longer than absolutely necessary. Within an hour, then, of his arrival at Howrah, he had, by dint of per sistence and rupees, succeeded in hir ing a launch to take him from the ter minus by water to the steamer at Dia mond harbor — CHAPTER XXVIII. At a small hour of the morning they made Diamond Harbor in pitch dark ness and without misadventure were successful In causing themselves to be transhipped, bag and baggage, to the 1 twinscrew steamship Poonah, which vessel rode at anchor in midstream. Toward eight o'clock of the white hot forenoon that followed, O'Rourke, In the shadow of a long-boat on the Poonah's promenade deck, stood fin ishing a matutinal cigar and watching narrowly a tender ferry out a final boatload of passengers from the east ern river bank. Slowly the tender forged toward the steamer's side; and as it drew near, O'Rourke forgot to smoke and bent over the rail to inspect with unremit ting interest those upon its decks. The forward deck of the tender held his regard but briefly; those who waited there, eyeing impassively the towering flanks of the liner, were one and all of the east, of races, creeds and types too numerous to catalogue. These the adventurer might not read, save individually upon personal con tact. If trouble was to come from them, collectively or Individually, he would not know until the blow had fallen. On the other hand, he might be able to hazard shrewd surmises as to the potential animus inherent in any one of the Europeans who were to be his fellow passengers. The latter were a mere handful; half a dozen commercial travelers from London, Paris, Berlin, their avo cations evident beyond dispute; a sal low English missionary with his with ered wife, sombre figures In the stark sunlight, a red-faced deputy-sub-some thlng-or-other of the Indian govern ment, complacent in white drill and new pith helmet with a gay puggaree; a lone English girl, and a Frenchman. The two latter held the Irishman's attention; the girl because, even at a distance, her slim white-clad figure and well-poised head seemed singu larly fresh and attractive; the man because —well, because O'Rourke was susceptible to premonitions. He was a tall man and broad, the Frenchman —well-inade, well-groomed, carrying himself with an indefinable air of distinction. His face was rath er pale (and therefore notable In that concourse of dark skins). Its features strongly modeled, the mouth and chin masked by a neatly trimmed and pointed beard and mustache. O'Rourke could not have said that he had ever seen the man before; yet there was this and that about him which struck a spark of reminiscence from his memory. A suspicion flashed through his mind which he put aside with disdain, as absurd and far-fetch ed. On the other hand. ... Ha knit his brows In puzzlement. The very fixity of his regard drew the eyes of its object upwards. They encountered O'Rourke's, lingered brief ly in an unveiled, inquiring stare in which there was not to be detected the least hint of recognition, and passed onward casually, Indifferently, ignoring the Impertinence. The tender's passengers began to stumble up the gang-plank to a lower deck of the liner; and O'Rourke, with a sober face, went below, taking some care to avoid contact with the incom ing crowd. He found Danny was In his state room, engaged with some details of repair to the adventurer's wardrobe. O'Rourke remained for a brief space standing In the middle of the cabin, visibly abstracted. Then abruptly some whimsical consideration seemed to resolve his dubiety—as lightning will clear sultry, brooding air; a smile deepened the corners of his mouth, the flicker In his eye merged magically into a twinkle, the shrug of his broad shoulders conveyed an impression of casting care to the winds. "Danny, lad," he remarked reflect ively* throwing himself ungracefully upon the cushioned transom opposite to his berth. "Danny, ye wouldn't lie to me, would ye now?" "Aw-w!" reproved Danny. "Shure, yer honor knows ut Isn't in me at all." And to himself; "Phat the divvle now?" "Then tell me, Danny, truthfully; did ye ever see a ghost?" "Aw-w!" —seeing cause to take the query as a joke. "A ghost that had grown a beard since it had become a ghost, Danny?" "Aw-aw-w!" —still willing to be amused, if "himself" chose to be face tious. "Because," continued O'Rourke with a slight frown, "I have, and that not five minutes since." "Aw?" "Wance I left a man for dead, Dan ny, with a clean sword-thrust through the body of him —a misbegotten black guard he was; but I killed him in fair fight, sword to sword, and no fa- i vor. . . . And this bright and beautiful morning, lo and behold ye! who should come tripping up the gang plank but his ghost, as lively as ye please, and with a neat new beard!" "Aw-w ?" —Incredulously. O'Rourke frowned impatiently. "Des Trebes," he explained. "Aw " "Stop It, ye parrot! Stop It, I say! Have ye no word in the dark lexicon of your ignorance other than 'Aw-aw'? Get tip, ye omadhaun, and take me re spects to the purser and ask him please will he show ye the passen ger-list." The valet left with circumspect ala crity. Alone, O'Rourke rose and turned thoughtfully to a revolver that made a conspicuous black spot on the white counterpane of the berth, with nerv ous, strong fingers unllmberlng the weapon and taking account of the brass dials of the cartridges that nestled snug In its Bix-cliambered cylinder. The machine was In perfect condition; O'Rourke snapped the breech shut and thrust it in his pock et. Then he sat down to think, sub consciously aware from noises with out that the tender had swung off and the anchor was being tripped. Could the resemblance be acciden tal? It seemed hardly possible. The Pes Trebes he had known had been a type distinct, so clear and aloof from tho general Frenchman that not even the addition of a beard to his physiog nomy could have proven a thorough disguise. And it seemed reasonable enough to assume that, Mrs. Prynne having failed In her undertaking, Des Trebes would resume his office as ac tive head of their conspiracy. If It were Indeed he whom O'Rourke had just seen, there was every chance Im aginable that the final chapter In the | history of the Irishman's connection with the Pool of Flame would prove an eventful one. "Maybe not," admitted O'Rourke. "maybe I deceive meself. But I'm persuaded I'll do well to keep both me eyes open until the day I'm rid of the damned thing!" At this Juncture Danny's knock took him to the door. "Mongsere Raoul de Hyeres," announced the valet breath lessly: "'tis thot the purser says his name is, yer honour." "Yes," assented O'Rourke dubious ly. "But perhaps the purser's mista ken —misinformed." (TO BE CONTINUED.) Bucking Horses. A touch of the spur or a flick of tb« quirt signals the start, says the Amerl. can Magazine. In an article on our western horses. His knowledge of what to do must be a heritage from bis ancestors, for all horses do It, and all American wild horses are sprung from horses that once carried men. He pops down his head and levitates straight heavenward. While he and you are high in the air he arches his back and stiffens his body to Iron rig idly. Thus he comes back to earth. The sensation to the rider Is as if his spinal column bad been struck by a piledrlver. The Impression Is not an alyzed at the time, for the horse goes Into the air again Immediately. He swings to right or left, or he "changes ends" completely while In the air, and you come down facing southward, whereas you were facing northward when you ascended. WHAT WILL CURE MY BACK? Common sense -will do more to cure backache than anything else. 'Twill tell you whether the kidneys are sore, swollen and aching. It •will tell you in that case there Is no use trying to cure It with a plaster. If the passages are scant or too frequent, proof that there Is kidney trouble is complete. Then common sense will tell you to use Doan's Kidney Pills, the best rec ommended special kidney remedy. A. West VirtfiAta CM* cured me completely after doctors failed.'* Get Doan's at any Drug Store, 50c. a Box Doan's "SST Constipation Vanishes Forever Prompt Relief—Permanent Cure CARTER'S LITTLE LIVER PILLS never fail. Purely vegeta- —^-r> ble act surely MBBtf but gently on JMmmA the liver. jAISQSfjP] w JJTLE Stop after | B IVER dinner dis improve the complexion, brighten the eyes, I SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE. Genuine must bear Signature DCIICIfIBIC Write Milo B. f*t ovens A Co., Altr*. ■ tnOIUIIw Tk'm K St., Washington. Usuib. l.*J UNKIND. "Tom Is a very effeminate fellow.* "Yes, he never comes into the rcom Without my looking to see if he has feathers on his hat." German Farmer Good Business Man. Under a seemingly generous ofTer of hospitality, a North German farm er has managed to include a good stroke of business for himself. In a Hanover paper recently appeared an advertisement that from fifteen to twenty women and girls (not under twelve years of age) who needed re cuperation could have free board and lodging on a country estate. But in exchange they would be required to pick pease from eight to ten hours Industrious pickers might also be paid cash for their labor. Filial. "I thought your father looked very handsome with his gray hairs." "Yes. dear old chap. I gave him those." —London Opinion. A FOOD CONVERT Good Food the True Road to Health. The pernicious habit some persons still have of relying on nauseous drugs to relieve stomach trouble keeps up the patent medicine business and helps keep up the army of dyspeptics. Indigestion—dyspepsia is caused by what is put into the stomach in the way of improper food, the kind that so taxes the strength of the digestive organs they are actually crippled. When thlß state is reached, to resort to tonics Is like whipping a tired horse with a big load. Every addi tional effort he makes under the lash diminishes his power to move th« load. Try helping the stomach by leaving off heavy, greasy, indigestible food and take on Grape-Nuts—light, easily digested, full of strength for nerves and brain, in every grain of It. there's no waste of time nor energy whea Grape-Nuts is the food. "I am an enthuslastlo user of Grape* Nuta and consider it an ideal food." writea a Maine man: "I had nervous dyspepsia and was all run down and my food seemed to do me but little good. From reading an advertisement I tried Grape-Nuts food, and, after a few weeks' steady use of It, felt greatly improved. "Am much stronger, not nervous' now, and can do more work without feeling so tired, and am better every way. "I relish Grape-Nuts best with cream and use four heaping teaspoonfuls as the cereal part of a meal. I am sure there are thousands of persons with stomach trouble who would be bene fited by using Grape-Nuts." Name giv en by Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich. Read the little book, "The Road to Wellvllle," in pkgs. "There's a rea son." Ew read the abort letter? A lew appears from time to tine. They are ffeaulaa, true, aad fall ml kuaaa latere* t.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers