yuth- vere mar- slip- veen ugh- the The Ipa- > be Ger- Rus- able rich ame 1s8ia egic Hin- . Rus- back 10ar- Rus- | 0X tele- ents Ger- cost )DOS- Nv ie Nida Aus- from riven pris- de a SAW. , the lost sians burg e in cond onor- nade Ss at- wetz ated . the city gain had rtant sians arpa- gary. ight- ssian ough they es in reat, ured. , fell stro- nsen and the rnéd 'BAW- angle 18 in sper- Von nila a. asnik the A se- Held | hot- town rand- | story Bal- ; the or M. the *h, of nister yer of t pay v one 10use. * own . Sun- town, Stan- ny em Br : The \ - Black | Tortoise jd | Frederic Viller BEINa THE STRANGE TLL, OLDFRICK ND = oY RIGIT DOUSLELAY PAGES CO - o- - - - -lusie It was half-past twelve, and the sun was shining brightly when I again rang the bell at old Frick’s in the Drammen Road. I had slept a few hours, handed in my report to the superintendent, and now I wanted to have the pleasure of giving old Frick his diamond back again. I had taken a little more trouble than usual about my toilet; you can guess the reason why. I was very pleased to find Miss Frick alone when I was ushered into the sit- ting-room. I thus had an opportunity of exchanging a few words with her; for when old Frick came in I knew only too well who would take up all the con- versation. She received me in a friendly manner, and when, without further ado, I showed her the diamond, she clapped her hands in joyful surprise. “How glad uncle will be! When he once gets it back again he will look upon last night's affair as an exceeding- ly pleasant diversion. May I take it to him?” “Yes, of course!” “It was I who advised him to tele- phone to you in the night, Mr. Monk, and to-day I also assured him that you would be gertain to find his tortoise again.” “It is a great pleasure, Miss Frick, to find you have such confidence in me. May I ask how you got to know of my name?” The young girl blushed a little. “We have often read about you in the papers, and Einar tells me there isn’t a case which you cannot clear up.” “I must thank your brother for his flatteriflg opinion, and I am indebted to the burglars of last night for giving me this opportunity of making your ac- quaintance and the acquaintance with your family.” “But you must excuse me a moment, Mr. Monk. I must hurry away and find uncle and give him the diamond. I haven't even told him you are here!” She ran out of the room, and I looked after her, enraptured. She was even prettier by daylight than by lamplight. Light, reddish-golden hair, blue eyes, a straight nose, and a beautiful shapely mouth, yet not of the smallest. As for her figure, it was that of a veritable Diana as she vanished from the room. I stood looking out of the window, when the door opened. I turned round hastily, and at first I thought it was Miss Frick who had eome back again. But the next moment I discovered that it was a young girl whom I had not seen befase, who stood ‘hesitating on the threshold. She was also tall, fair and slight, and with something of the same grace in her movements. Indeed, both in her movements and carriage she was won- derfully like Miss Frick. Nor was her face and especially the shape of her head unlike Miss Frick’s, but her hair was much redder, her lips thinner, and her mouth more sharply moulded. Her eyes were certainly blue and pretty, but they wore a colder expression, I thought at first it was Miss Frick’s sister, but a glance at the small, co- quettish, servant-maid’s cap told me she held a different position in the house. With an excuse she hurriedly left the room; she had thought Miss Frick was there. Scarcely had she shut the door after her before Miss Frick again appeared, and as she saw perhaps that I looked a bit puzzled, she gave a low laugh, and said : “You have seen my double, I sup: pose? She didn’t know any one was here. All strangers are astonished at the likeness between Evelina and me, She is my lady’s-maid.” “The likeness does not strike me as being so great,” I answered; “do you think so yourself? I should never make such a mistake as taking her for you.” “Oh, yes, indeed!” she replied; “at first it was almost unpleasant to me. Her father was, in his line, a well-to-do artisan, but things went badly with him, and he took to drink. The mother is not a very desirable person either, and so my uncle, who had known them many years, proposed that I should take the daughter as my maid.” It was a pleasure to me to talk with this pretty young girl. She was more natural and free from any affectation than any young woman I had met. It was easy to see she had plenty of com- mon sense, and was well educated. Mr. Frick did not tarry long. He came waddling in, clad in a large- checked, English pea-jacket, his full- blown face beaming like the sun. He was not satisfied this time with shak- ing onc of my hands, but seized both in his gigantic paws. His praise of my skill was quite overwhelming, and it was only by the greatest effort that I got him to change ubigct. TYEE ATER TE w After that tollowed an invitation to dinner at “Villa Ballarat,” as he called the house. He would like to have a full description of how I managed to discover the thieves. This invitation clashed with my en- gagements that day, and I should have felt almost duty bound to refuse it, had 1 not happened to look at Miss Frick. Tt appeared to me as if T could read something in her face which spoke of anxious expectation, and—TI accepted the invitation. The dinner went off very well. Old Frick told us how he had first become possessed of the tortoise; that, however, I will return to later. Happily there was another person present who could listen to old Frick, while I hada much more interesting conversation with Miss Frick. Young Einar, who seemed a fine young fellow, and whose occupation it was to keep his uncle’s books and ac- counts, alone emptied a bottle of Heid- sieck monopole, and then stole away immediately after dinner with a good supply of his uncle’s Havana cigars, to have a game of billiards at the Grand Hotel. Before I left Villa Ballarat, I had an other talk with old Frick, of a more serious nature. I represented to him how wrong it was to let so many costly articles as those he had gathered to- gether lie unprotected against thieves and burglars. “You have seen yourself, Mr, Frick,” 1 said, “how you tempt people to become housebreakers.” Old Frick showed himself for once amenable to advice. “Come and see me to-morrow,” he said; “I should like to have your opin- ion as to how I ought to arrange my things. The house here is becoming too small for me; I expect a guest in a few days. ranging it specially as a museum or as a place of custody for all my curiosities? If I built a pavilion expressly for this purpose, I ought to be able to make it could use iron safes, iron bars before the windows, electric-alarm apparatus, and suchlike. So long as I am well and able to move about, I can look after my things—as you have seen I did last night; but when I get older, it will be more difficult. One cannot depend upon the young people in the house.” By sufficiently encouraging this plan of his, I got him to start the work, and within a month old Frick had a build- ing constructed in the garden, about forty yards from the house. A building which should serve as a depository for all his collection, and at the same time give space for his office, and contain- ing a fire-proof room for money and im- portant documents. This building will, later on, play a part in my story, and I shall therefore give a short description of it. It was built nearly square, and di- vided into two. The whole of the one half was fitted up to receive Frick’s col- lection, It formed a large room with no windows, but was lighted from above. Over the skylights were placed strong gilt iron bars to prevent entrance from above. The heavy iron shutters, which, be- ing painted white and lacquered, looked like innocent wooden boards, could be pulled down in front of the cases when the museum was closed. ’ These iron shutters were so well bal- anced with hidden counter weights that the weakest child could move them up or down. They could be locked with mew Frick alone had the keys. The other half of the house was par- titioned into two, forming a larger and a smaller room. The larger did duty as Mr. Frick’s office, and there his nephew took up his residence in the morning among the heap of business books. The smaller room, which, on account of the many feet thick, brick walls, gave very little inside space, served as a fire-proof room for money and documents. This room had no windows, and only one very solid, double iron door, which led into the before-mentioned room used as the museum, It had been made according to my suggestion; for I reasoned thus: The office is, as a matter of course, the least- protected room in the building. It has windows, and necessarily a good many strangers will be going in and out there. The safest thing is to let the one door to the fire-proof room, where Frick likes to keep a large sum of ready money, lead out into the museum. It is only frequented by the people of the house and guests, and at night it is more se- cure against burglary than the office. All round the garden there was an iron railing, twice as high as a man, and people who were going to the house had { to ring a bell at the iron gate. At that time, when I made old Frick’s acquaintance, he had invested a great deal of his money in various enterprises, mostly industrial undertakings, and especially such as would bring new trade and industry to the country. . He himself took no part in the man- agement of these undertakings, and the work in his office was not more than could be managed by himself and his nephew It was not long before I was a regu- lar and, as far as I could perceive, a welcome guest at the villa; indeed, all through the winter there was scarcely a day when I did not visit there. Old Frick was never tired of asking me about news from the police courts; but I soon realized that it was not so much my stories that interested him, as the fact that for each of my stories, which T tried to make as short as possi- ble, he found opportunity to treat us to two or three of his own, which always took a long time. He was, however, an admirable story- teller, and we often sat by the hour together, listening to him with the great- est interest. Generally the party was limited to old Frick Einar was Sigri {i myself. deal of his time and hi | a gay voung fel 1 good his | don’t think my old friend, even when he What do you say to my build- ing a pavilion out in the garden, and ar- | sufficiently proof against thieves. I strong safety locks, of which Bartholo- 4. v ~ompanions, and he gave us but Iittle of his society. Thus the three of us spent many pleasant evenings together. CHAPTER IIL MR. REGINALD HOWELL. Here was my first letter from Miss Frick: Dear MR. Monk —My uncle wants you to come and dine with us to-morrow at five o'clock. He is expecting an Eng- lishman to-day, a son of one of his old Australian comtades, and would like you to make his acquaintance. Yours, Sicrip FrICK. It was not a love lcerer, not even a friendly epistle, but quite the most con- ventional piece of writing one could re- ceive; and yet it caused me great hap- piness when this note arrived, in the fine bold handwriting I got to know so well. It was on a Saturday, a few days be- fore Christmas. From the first day I had seen Sigrid Frick, until now, I had employed the time in falling in love as deplorably as ever a man can do, and I could see that my attentions were not displeasing to her. And so, as a mat- ter of course, I accepted the invitation for dinner next day. On my arrival at Villa Ballarat, I found old Frick beaming with delight. “Here he is, Monk ; here he is —Regi- nald Howell, son of my old friend How- ell, who was the best man and the most faithful friend in the whole world. I was young, had such a fine appearance as his son here; but his heart was as true as gold, and he was as reliable as a rock.” It would have been difficult for old Frick to get away from his ,reminis- cences of old Howell, but luckily his niece recalled him to the present by inti- mating that he ought to introduce me to the young Englishman before he in- dulged in them further. He was a tall, handsome young fel- low, about my own age, and of the dark English type. His manners were easy and unaffected, as is usual with English men of good birth. x There was nothing particularly attrac- This dread to take our daily way, and Song and Story.... .. We know not what it is, dear, sleep so deep and still; The folded hands, the awful calm, the : cheek so pale and chill; lids that will not lift again, | though we may call and call; | The strange, white solitude of peace | that settles over all. We know not what it means, this desolate heart pain; this The dear, | walk in it again; We know not to what other sphere the loved who leave us go, Nor why we're left to wonder nor why we do not know. still, But this we know: our loved and dead ; if they should come this day— |, Should come and ask us “What is | life?”’not one of could say, Life is a mystery as deep as ever death can be; Yet, oh how dear it is to us, this life we live and see! Then might they say—these van- ished ones—and blessed be the though: “So death is sweet to us, beloved! though we may show you naught; We may not to the quick reveal the mystery of breath.” The child who enters life comes not with knowledge or intent, So all who enter death must go as little children sent. Nothing is known. But nearing God, and as life is to the living, so death is to the dead. Did She See? tive about his face, although he had fine eyes, somewhat dark, almost black, in fact, but without the fire in them that usually accompanies eyes of that color. His manners were rather insinuating, though not at all unpleasant. I gradually learned to like him fairly well. At first, it happened that he threw many a tender glance at Miss Frick, and on that account I felt not a little inclined to quarrel with him. But as this was only a repetition of what had . happened in the past two months with half a dozen other young men who vis- ited Villa Ballarat, enough to allow these feelings to have only a momentary hold upon me. He soon kept his eyes to himself, probably because he saw “how the land lay,” as the sailors have it. One thing which, in a great measure, spoke in the young Englishman’s favor, was his apparent modesty. When his father died the year before —he had until then lived in Australia— | the son decided to go to Europe, and he took his passage on a sailing ship. But the vessel had caught fire in the open 3ea, and the passengers and crew had had to take to the boats. Only one of the boats had reached land—the one in which Reginald Howell and eight others had saved themselves. But the boat foundered on a coral reef, and Mr. How- ell at last found himself, the only sur- vivor, on a little island. The natives were friendly to him, and after two months’ stay there, he sighted a ship which brought him to England. People seldom refuse to relate inter- esting stories when they concern them- selves; but it was only after repeated appeals from old Frick that Mr. Howell was at last induced to give a very sober and curtailed description of his adven- turous voyage. It was easy to understand that he must have behaved very coolly and bravely under such terrible circum- stances, and that it was only due to his presence of mind and courage that he was able to save himself, yet he seldom . spoke of himself, and then always in the most modest manner possible. In short, he had the habit, owing either to the way in which he had been brought up, or by nature, seldom or never of speaking about himself—a habit which never fails to make a favorable impression. When the young man came to Eng- land, he of course gave the authorities an exact account of the wreck of the Queen of the East, and the fate of the crew. The account had been published in several of the English papers, and he laughingly proffered to show us some of these papers if we found his verbal account not exhaustive enough. Mr. Howell had come to Norway at the express invitation of old Frick, who, when he had heard of his old friend’s death, had written and asked his son to visit him in Norway. The young man had received Frick’s letter just when he was on the point of sailing from Australia—he had already ar- ranged previously to visit Europe—and had notified his departure by telegraph. “You did right, Reginald, in coming as quickly as possible to your father’s old friend. I suppose you intend to spend the winter with us. You can learn to go on ‘ski’ here; a fine sport I can tell you. You must live with us. i have had two rooms made ready for you here in Villa Ballarat.” Mr. Howell said he thought he would avail himself of the invitation for one or two months; he was a keen sports- man, and had long ago made up his mind to have a look at, and a try at, gki-running. (To be Continued.) We print sale bills quick. CARLOAD BARREL AND BAG SALT at HABEL & PHILLIPS. All kinds of job work here. 1 was sensible A woman was discussing the Eng- lish language with Rudyard Kipling. “Don’t you think it strange, Mr. Kipling,” said the woman with sup- erior wisdom, ‘that sugar is the only word in the English language where an ‘s’ and a ‘uw’ come together and are pronounced ‘sh’?” Mr. Kipling’s eyes twinkled as he answered: “Sure.” Was Willing to Try It Again. Once when John D. Rockefeller was playing golf a negro lad crossedthe ‘links. Mr. Rockefeller had just given ! the balll a vigorous stroke and the ,lad received the missile squarely on ‘the head. It was a heavy blow, but [it only stunned the boy a little, and ‘afte blinking his eyes for a moment “he Was himself again. : | Mr Rockefeller, who had rushed up | fearing that the boy had been badly ‘injured was relieved to find that he took it so calmly, and, pulling a five ' dollar bill from his pocket he gave ‘it to the youngster as a salve for his | feelings. | The boy looked at the bill and grin- ned with delight. Then he looked at at Mr. Rockefeller and inquired: * | When is yu goin to be playin’ again?” The Kind that Gets on. Booker T. Washington, congratulat- 'ed by a New York reporter on the ! success he had made of his life, said | with a smile: | “I suppose I must be modest and de- clare that luck has had much to do 'with my progress,or, otherwise, I'll | be in Senator Dash’s shoes. “Senator Dash, of Tallapoosa, prid- ed himself on his rise from the bot- tom, for Senator Dash, in his youth, had worked with the colored men in the cotton fields. : “Boysting at a political about his rise, the senator singled out Uncle Calhoun Webster among his audience and said: “I see before me old Calhoun Web- ster, beside whom, in the Now, ladies and gentlemen, I appeal was I, or was I not, a gcod man in the cotton fields?’ “‘Yo ,wuz a god man, senatah,’ the aged negro replied, ‘yo’ wuz a good man fo’ a fack; but yo’ sut’ ny dida’t work much.’” —Washington Star. Here is a touching war story that was printed in the “London Nurs- {ing Mirror.” It was told in a West Country Hospital by one of many British soldiers who lay there, The British had taken a German trench with bayonet, Two British sol- diers badly wounded lay besides a dying German in the trench. “What wouldn’t I give for a drink!” called out one Tommy to the other. The German understood the word “drink” for it is much like the word in his own language. The soldier who lived to tell the tale, said “He kep’ sayin’, “ere, and pointin’ to his side. We thought he he wanted liftin’ up, and couldn't rest easy;so, after a bit, 1 managed lto lift myself up and give him a pull, and than I found he was lyin’ on his water bottle. It was ful! of wine and water, and I put it to his lips. ‘Pore chap! He was nigh done for, but he sez, ‘No, not me. drink! He died, too, he did er some of us buried him proper. I die—you and lat- Ca shops. States. ° Just Sign a Your second signature on these “A. B. A” Cheques makes them good and identifies you. No further introduction is necessary. 50,000 banks throughout the world will cash them at sight. They may be used, without converting them into currency, for hotel bills, railway and steamship fares and for purchases in the principal The best kind of “travel money” abroad or in the United Issued in $10, $20, $50 and $100 by Second National Bank MEYERSDALE, PENNA. TE nd Cash Hide ugly boards with new and neat linoleum. Cheaper thas parquet—easier to keep in condition. Armstrong’s Linoleum Sanitary and durable. Fits the weeds of the kitchen—fit for the parlors. Patterns for every room in the house, Don't waste energy in scrubbing floors. Use a mop—and a ty ARMSTRONG'S IS THE BEST. R. REICH & SON THE HOME FURNISHERS Complete From Cellar to Attic 120 Ucn ie 1, cyersdals If Lincoln Had Commanded at Gettys- burg? In John Hay’s war-time diary, pub- lished for the first time in Harpers Magazine, Hay makes a definite state men that Lincoln thought at one time of taking command of the Union armies in the field. “News traveled with desperate slow- ness to those kept in suspense at the White House during this crisis. The battle of Gettysburg ended at dark on July 3, 1863; and yet for more *han a week following, doubt and hope alter- nated in Lincoln’s mind as to whether | the Union general, Meade, would com- | plete his victory by destroying Lee's army. On Saturday, July 11, 1863, Hay writes: «The President seemed in specially good humor today, as he had pretty good evidence that the enemy were | still on the north side of the Potomac, i meeting broiling | southern sun, I toiled day after day. | worded—talking about reconnoitering and Meade had announced his inten- - tion of attacking them in the morning. The President seemed very happy in the prospect of a brilliant success. « «Sunday, 12th July—Rained all the afternoon. Have not yet heard of Meade’s expected attack. « Monday, 13th — The President begins to grow anxious and impatient about Meade’s silence. I thought and told him there was nothing to prevent the enemy from getting away by the | Falling Waters if they were not vigor- ously attacked......... Nothing can save them if Meade does his duty. I doubt him. He is an engineer. « «14th July—This morning the Pres- {dent seemed depressed by Meade’s despatches of last night. They were so cautiously and almost timidly ! to find the enemy's weak places, and, other such........ About noon came the to Uncle Calhoun. Tell us all Uncle, despatches stating that our worst fears The enemy had gotten The President was) | deeply grieved. “We had them within | | our grasp,” he said; “we had only to; | stretch forth our hands and they were: ours. And nothing I could say or do | were true. | away unhurt. could make the army move.” «Qeveral days ago we sent a des- patch to Meade which must have cut, Hike a scourge, but Meade returned 50. reasonable and earnest reply that the President concluded he knew best: what he was doing, and was reconciled to the apparent inaction, which hai hoped was merely apparent. « ‘Every day he has watched the pro. gress of the army with agonizing im- patience, hope struggling with fear.. He has never been easy in his own mind about General Meade, since Meade’s General Order in which he! called on his troops to drive the in- vader from our soil. The President gays: “This is a dreadful reminis- cence of McClellan. The same spirit that moved MgcClellan to claim a great victory because Pennsylvania and Maryland were safe. ten million people sank within them fall. Will our generals never get that {dea out of their heads? The whole country is our soil.” « «5th July—Robert Lincoln says the President is silently but deeply grieved about the escape of Lee. Ha sald: | have whipped them myself.” (And 1 know he had that jdea’ ® Hay adds) pg SSE wach | Cuts down house-work. | ' 11 is sightly and sensible. Clean