The Meyersdale commercial. (Meyersdale, Pa.) 1878-19??, March 22, 1917, Image 2
| ; THE MEYERSDALE COMMERCIAL, MEYERSDALE, PA. HE MAY BE SPEAKER UNDER BIPARTISAN PLAN \ Photo by American Press Association. CHAMP CLARK ’ “ Bipartisan organization of the ims | coliiing house of representatives, with Champ Clark as speaker and the com- mittee memberships and patronage equally divided, is being discussed by Democratic and Republican leaders as a possibility in the event the five in- dependent members hold up business by attempting to dictate how the house shall be organized. + + 2% 0 2080 ce Ese ARMED NEUTRAL WILL - ® : BE STATUS OF U. 8. * s - Armed neutrality will be the * stafus of the United States the * moment that the first merchant * ship under the American flag * put to sea with canmon mount- * ed for defense. President Wil- * son made this clear in his ad- * dress to congress, Feb. 26, * when he asked specific author- * ity to arm merchant ships for * defense against submarines— * the step he has ordered upon * his own responsibility. . ‘Writers on international law * have held that armed neutrality * consists in placing the country * in a position to defend itself © end its neutrality against © threatened attacks or inroads © By belligerents. This state of © preparedness may last an in- © definite length of time. ° On the other hand; the dtatus: © of armed neutrality may change into one of .agtusl hostility © through a collisfen—~suoh as a © submarine attack om an armed © merchantman. o @ 6 & o ¢ 0 6060 0 ¢6 0 90 EXTRA SESSION OF CONGRESS 15 CALLED Wilson Neads Ald and Counsel During, Preset Crisis President Wilson has called ag e® t#a' session of congress to mest Mom: day, April 16; in order to have ftaisup: port and counsel “ia all matters o8l- CRNOOOODOSDPOOOEOGORIDOIOGESEDIPOIAaCOIORODDS fateral to the defense of omr=merchant {= “marine.” On the mature advice ef the gov- gEament’s highest Jaw! suthorities, je president decided that failure of armed neutrality bill at the last mbbsion left himi: with euficient au- thority undér existing statutes to is- #8e naval guns to merchantmen, He is expected, however, to ask that afi doubt on the point be removed by ‘Massage of a specific authorisation as #8 soon as congress meets. The president sighed the proclama- fion for the extra session while lying fk bed with a cold. COUNT ZEPPELIN DIES 1Moted German Whe invented Dirigi- bule Airship Passes Away. ! Oount Zeppelin is dead, according to dispatch from Berlin, received in fondon by Reuters Telegram com- ny. The count died at Charlotten- , near Berlin, from inflammation of the lungs. Count Ferdinand Zeppelin became ous at the age of seventy as the $ailder of the world’s first practical &irigible balloon. Emperor William recently pro- @laimed Count Zeppelin to be “the greatest German of the twentieth cen- tary.” S=cret Wireless on Appam. ’ ¥Whexn Federal Marshal Saunders took possession of the liner Appam after 146 break with Germany he found in- ‘salted there a secret wireless ap- -gtus by which all wireless mes- poi sent in this section of the coun- fy were road. aera Bulgaria Anxious For Peace. ia 1 i med Germany algaria has infor Eulg 18 $3 3 +h war > tinue in the wa {hat she « : “Valuable at any time. Our presses cost $1,000, our linotypes $2,000. And there is that other thing—so hard to ystimate definitely—the wide appeal of our paper. The price—well, $15,000. Ixtremely reasonable. And I will in- Jude the good will of the retiring nanagement.” “You contemptible little”— began Spencer Meyrick. “My dear sir, control yourself,” pleaded Gonzale, “or I may be unable to include the good will I spoke of. Would you care to see that story on the streets? You may at any moment. There is but one way out—buy the newspaper. Buy it now. Here is the plan: You go with ‘me to your bank. You procure $15,000 In cash. We go together to the Mail office. You pay mé the money, and I leave you in ‘harge.” Old Meyrick leaped to his feet. “Very good!” he ried. “Come onl” *One thing more,” continued the crafty Gonzale. “It may pay you to note—we are watched, even now. All the way to the bank and thence to the sifice of the Mail we will be watched, Should any accident, now unforeseen, happen to me that issue of the Mail wiil go on sale in five minutes all over San Marco.” “I understand! Come on!” CHAPTER. XVIII. “There Will Be No Wedding.” : HERE must be some escape. p The trap seemed absurdly sim. ple. Across the hotel lawn, down the hot avenue, in the less hot plasa, Meyrick sought a way. A naturally impulsive man, he had difficulty restraining: himself. But he thought of his daughter, whose happi- ness was more than money in his eyes. No way offered. At the counter of the tiny bank Meyrick stood writing his check, Gonzale at his elbow. Sud- denly behind them the screen doo? slammed, and a wild eyed man with flaming red hair rushed in. “What is it you want?’ screamed. “Out of my way, Don Quixote!” cried the red topped one. “I'm a windmill, and my arms breathe death. Are you Mr. Meyrick? Well, tear up that check!” “Gladly,” said Meyrick. “Only”— “Notice the catbirds down here?’ went on the wild one. “Noisy little beasts, aren't they? Well, after this take off your hat to em. A catbird saved you a lot of money this morn- ing.” Gongale og fest ag the Lord will let we: can do what you please. little lemon tinted employer if want to.” SH Spencer Meyrick stood’ “However, I've done you do O'Neill. weat on: “¥Youcen do & i mer. It's legitimate salary money due us. We need it. A long walk te New York.” “Y myself — began Meyrick. “Don’t want your money,” O'Neill; “want Gonzale’s.” “Gonsale’s you shall have,” agreed Meyrick. “You pay him!” “Never!” cried the Sp “Then it’s the police,” hinted O'Neill Gonsale took two yellow bills from a wallet. He tossed them at O'Neill “There, you cur’— “Careful,” cried punch you yet!” He started forward, but Gonsile bastily withdrew. O'Neill and the millionaire followed to the street. “Well, my bey,” answered Spencer Meyrick, “if I can ever do anything for you in New York come and see me.” said O'Neill, “or I'l “You may have to make good on that,” laughed O’Neill, and they parted. O'Neill hastened to the Mail office. He waved yellow bills before the lanky Howe. “In the nick of time,” he cried. “Me, the fair haired hero. And here's the fare, Harry—the good old railroad 1 9” “Heaven be praised,” said Howe. “I've finished the job, Bob. Not a trace of this morning's issue left. The fare! North in parlor cars! My to- bacco heart sings. Can’t you hear the elevated”— “Music, Harry, music.” “And the newsboys on Park row™— “Caruso can’t touch them. Where can we find a time table, I wonder?” hile, in a corner of the plaza, Manuel Gonzole spoke sad words in he ear of Martin Wall to = TS; 3 cated a sémewhat perttirbed staté of mind on his own part. . “Brace up, Allan,” he urged. be over before you realize it. “tH Remem- ber m~ own wedding. Gad, wasn’t I - frightened? Always that way with a man. No sense to it, but he just can’t help it. Never forget that little par lor, with the flower of Marion society all about, and th my teeth chat- tering and mj «- knocking to- gether.” | 5 “It is a bit of an ordeal,” said Allan weakly. “Chap feels all sort of—gone —inside"”— * The telephone, ringing sharply, inter rupted. George Harrowby rose and stepped to it. “Allan? You wish Allan? Very well I'll tell him.” He turned away from the telephone and faced his brother. “It was old Meyrick, kid. Seemed somewhat hot under the collar. Wants to see you in their suit at once.” “What—what do you imagine he wants?” ! “Going to make you a: present of Riverside drive, I fancy. Go ahead, boy. I'll wait for you here.” Allan Harrowby went out, along the dusky corridor to the Meyrick door. Not without misgivings, he knocked. A voice boomed, *‘Comel” - H¢ pushed open the door. : 3 He saw Spencer Meyrick sitting pur Dle at a table and beside ‘him: Oynthis’ Meyrick in the lovellest gown of all the lovely gowns she had ever worn. The beauty of the girl staggered Hag. rowby a bit. Never demonstrative, he' had a sudden feeling that hs shéuld be at her feet, Ri “You—you sent for me?’ he asked, coming into the room. As he moved. closer to the girl he was to marry he saw that her face was whiter than her gown and her brown eyes strained and miserable. ” “We did,” sald Meyrick, rising. He held out a''paper. “Will you please look’at that?” His lordship took the sheet in unm- steady hands. He glanced down. Slowly the meaning of the story that met his gaze filtered through his dazed brain. “Martin Wall did this,” he thought to himself. He tried to speak, but could not. Dumbly he stared at Spencer Meyrick. g “We want no scene, Harrowby,” said the old man wearily. “We mere- ly want to know if there is in existence 8 policy such as the one mentioned here?’ The paper slipped from his lordship’s lifeless hands. He turned miserably away. Not daring to face either fa- ther or daughter, he answered very faintly: “There is.” 3 Spencer Meyrick sighed. “That's all we want to know. There will be no wedding, Harrowby.” “Wha-what!” His lordship faced about. “Why, sir, the guests must be downstairs!” “It 1§ unfortunits, but there will’ be Be wedding.” The old man turned to “Cynthia,” Whits, trembling, the girl faced Nis lordship. “It seems, Alan, | that: you' hive regardéd our marriage as & business proposition. You have gambled on the stability of the maer- ket. Weil, you wih: I have changed my mind. This is final. I shall not change it again.” “Cynthia!” And any who had con- sidered Lord Harrowby unfeeling must’ Have been surprised at the an. guisk fh his voice. “I have loved you— 1 love you now. I adore you. What cana I say in explanation of this? We “Cynthia,” he asked, “have you nothing to say?” gamble, all of us. It is a passion bred in the family. That is why I took out this absurd policy. My dearest, it doesn’t mean that there was no love on my side. There is—there always will be, whatever happens. Can’t you understand’— The girl laid her hand on his arm and drew him away to the window. he asked, | #lon for gambling in our family. He will tell you that I love you too.” He moved toward the telephone. “No ‘use,”’ said Oynthia Meyrick, shaking her head. long a painful scene. Allan!” : “I'll send for Minot, too!” Harrowby cried. “Mr. Minot?” Please don’t, rowed. “And what has Mr. Minot to do with this?” “Everything. He came down here came down to make sure that you didn’t change your mind. He will tell you that I love you.” \ A queer expression hovered about Miss: Meyrick’s 1ip8. Spencer Meyrick interrupted. ; “Nonsense!” he cried. “There is no need to"— i “One moment.” eyes shone strangely. brother, Allan, and—for—Mr. Minot.” Harrowby stepped to the telephone He summoned his forces. A strained, unhappy silence ensued. Then the two men entered the room together. “Minot, George, old boy,” Lord Har- rowby said helplessly, “Miss Meyrick Cynthia Meyrick’s istence of a certain insurance policy about’ which you both kiow. “They have believed that ray motive in seek- ing a marriage was purely mercenary; that my affection for the girl who is— ‘be “sincere. They are wrong—quite wrong. Both of you know that. I've derstand. I capnot.” = George Harrowby stepped forward and smiled his kindly smile, . “My dear young lady,” he said, “I regret that policy very deeply. When I first heard of it I, too, suspected Al- lan’s motives. But after I talked with him—after I saw you—I was convinced that his’ affection for you was most sincere. - 1 thought back to the gam-. bling schemes for which the family has been noted. I saw it was the old passion cropping out anew in Allan— that he was really not to blame—that beyond any question he was quite de- voted to you. Otherwise I'd have done everything in my power to prevent the wedding.” “Yes?’ Miss Meyrick’s eyes flashed dangerously. “And your other wit- ness, Allan?” The soul of the other witness squirm- ed in agony. This’ was too much—too | much! “You, Minot,” pleaded Harrowby— “you have understood?” “I have felt that you were sincerely fond of Miss Meyrick,” Minot replied. “Otherwise 1 should not have done : ‘what I have done.” “Then, Mr. Minot,” the girl inquired, {'uydu think I would be wrong to give up all plans for the wedding?” “]—I—yes, I do,” writhed Minot. “And you advise me to marry Lo Harrowby at once?” . Mr. Minot passed his handkerchief over his damp forehead. Had the girl “ do,” he answered misera ls Cynthia Meyrick laughed, v meirthilessly. : “Because that's your business—your mean lttle business,” she said scorm fully. “I know: it 14st why you came to San’ Marco; I. unde ua You had rE with Lord Harrowby, and you came here: to see that you did. not lose your money. Wo you've lost! Carry that news ack to the concern you work for! In #pite of your herol¢ efforts you've lost! CHAPTER XIX. Cynthia Breaks With Marrewby. ST! The word cut Minot to the quick. Lost, indecd! § Jephson's stake—lost the gifl 2). he loved! He bad fafled Jeph- son—failed himself! After all be had done, all he had sacrificed, a double de therefore doubly bitter. : , ‘surety you don't fuésn' Lord" Hérrowby wax pleading. “I do, Allan,” said the girl more gen- tly. “It was true what I told you there the window. It is far better. Fa- ther, will you go down and say Pm not ‘$0: be married, after all?” Spenser Meyrick nodded and turned 0 .-— ~and this i i toward the door. ; “Cynthia,” cried Harrowby brokeéily. ‘There was no reply. Meyrick went out. “I'm sorry,” his lordship said—*sor- ry 1 made such a mess of it, the more go because I love you, Cynthia, and al- ways shall. Goodby.” He held out his hand. She put bers fn it. “It’s too bad, Allan,” she said. “But it wasn't to be. And even now you have one consolation—the money that Boyd’s' must pay you.” “The money means nothing, Cyn- “Miss: Meyrick is mistaken,” Minot “Why not?” asked the girl defiantly. «Up to an hour ago,” sai@ Minot, syou were determined to marry his Jordship. ” “I should hardly put it that way. But I intended to.” ; “Yes. Then you changed your mind. Why 2” “] changed it because I found out about this ridiculous policy.” “Then his lordship’s taking out of the policy caused the calling off of the wed- 2” “Y-yes. Why?” “Jt may interest you to know and it “It’s no use, Allan,” she said, for his ears alone. “Perhaps I could have for- given, but somehow I don’t care as I thought 1 did It is better, embar rassi : h, that 'sbout the wedding. And may interest Lord Harrowby to recall that five minutes before he took out “Send for your ' and her father have discovered the ex- sent for you to help me make them un: | tand every: | ) n a | his desk and sat down in a chef facing At the last nioment Cynthia Meyrick | ehanged Ker mind?” interrupted. “Lord Harrowby has not even that consolation. Boyd's owes him nothing.” , “By gad!” sald Lord Harrowby. '! a subsequent act,” “It would only pro- . to tear up that policy now and go to | work f »” The girl's eyes nar. | © or - OF me as the representative of Boyd's. He | “|” was" to" have “hecomit™ my" wife: cannot | 4 Bvelyns seid ap | agsreml rasively clbert "there I’ pos A this policy he signed an agreement to | do everything in his power to bring i he further T od 1 { i he Hug 3.3 3 { seemed such dull, i "have put your employer's money above ‘ceremony; stood - to’ do’ but” return’ to the nosth as fast . wom, but he had also lost. - mot¥” He inquired: bey.” " know how. You stood by roe lke—like ' no claim on Boyd's. . what's the use of ifing? All my fault. - And—my thanks, old boy!" “Nonsense!” said Minot. “A business | “The taking out of the policy was continued Minot. “The premium, I fancy, is forfeited.” “He's got you, Allan,” said George Harrowby, coming forward, “and I for one can’t say I'm sorry. You're going “] for one am sorry,” cried Miss Meyrick, her flashing eyes on Minot. “I wanted you to win, Allan. 1 want- ed you to win.” “Why ?’’ Minot asked innocently. “You ought to know,” she answered and turned away. Lord Harrowby moved toward the door. “We're not hard losers,” he said blankly. ‘“But—everything’s gone. It's a bit of a smashup. Goodby, Cynthia.” “Goodby, Allan—and good luck.” “Thanks.” And Harrowby went out with his brother. Minot stood for a time, not daring to move. Cynthia Meyrick was at:the window; her scornful back was not en- ,couraging. Finally she turned, saw Minot and gave a start of surprise. “Oh—you're still here?” “Cynthia, now you understand,” he sald. “You know why I acted as I did. You realize my position. I was in a horrible fix""— She looked at him coldly. “Yes,” she sald, “I do: understand. {- You were gambling ‘6’ nt” “Y out “caithé down-here. to defend your employer's- cash. Well, you have succeeded. Is there anything more to be said?” “Isn't there? On the ramparts of the old fort the other night"— “Plegse do not make yourself any more ridictilous than is necessary. You my happiness—always. Really you looked rather cheap today, with your sanctimonious advice that 1 marry Harrowby. Aren’t you beginning to realize your own position—the silly, childish figure you cut?” “Then you'— “Last night when you came stagger- ing across the lawn to’ mie with foolish gown in your arms I told you I hated you. Do you imagine I hate you any less now? Well, I don’t.” Her voice became tearful. “I hate you! 1 hate you!” “But some day”— She turned away from him, for she was sobbing outright now. . “I never want to see you again as long as I live!” she cried. “Never! Never! Never!” Limp, pitiable, worn by the long fight he had waged, Minot stood, staring helplessly at her heaving shoulders. “Then I can only say I'm sorry,” he murmured. “And—goodby.” He waited. She did not turn toward him. He stumbled out of the room. Minot went below and sent two mes- sages, one to Jephson, the other to Thacker. The lobby of the De la Pax was thronged with brilliantly attired wedding guests, who, metaphorically, beat their breasts in perplexity over the tidings’ that had come even as'they | craned their necks to catch the’ first that was to have been the scene of the’ Minot cast one look st it and hurried | ,again to his own particular eell, He took a couple of time tables from, the window. All over now. Nothing as the trains would take Nim. He hud It waa late in the afternoon. whem him to himself. He leaped up snd voice cime over the wire, “Can you run down to the rooms; Mii- Minot went. He found liothithe:Har- ‘rowbys there, prapared to say gosddy | to'San Marco forever. - . ag to. New York of Orge . Us <8 Lord Harrowby smiled wenly. “Nothing left but Chicago,” he drawled. “I wanted to see you before I went, Minot; old chap. Not that I can thank you for all yougdid. I don't 4 gentleman. And I realize that I have It was all my fault. ¥f I'd never let Martin Wall have that confounded polMcy! But He sighed. proposition solely, from my point of view. There's no thanks coming to me.” “It seems to me,” said George Har- rowby, “that das the enly victor in this affair you don’t exhibit a proper cheer- fulness. By the way, we'd be delight- ed to take you north on our boat. Why not?” But Minot shook his head. “Can’t spare the time. Thank you Just the same,” he replied. “I'd lke nothing better.” Amid expressions of regret the Har- rowbys started for the elevator. Minot walked along the dusky corridor with them. “We've had a bit of excitement— what!” said Allan. “If you're ever in London you're to be my guest. Old George has some sort of berth for me over there.” “Not a berth, Allan” objected George, pressing the button for the elevator. “You're not going to sleep. A job. Might as well begin to talk the Chicago language now. Mr. Minot, I. too, want to thank you.” They stepped into the elevator, The ~ Some sense in looking out now. Mi — a shack that.seemed familiar, then another. Next a station, bearing on its sad shingle the cheery name of Sunbeam. And close to the statiom, gloomy in the dawn. a desiccated chauffeur beside an aged automobile. not to take dinner with him. His bags, he remarked, were all packed, and he was booked for the 7 o'clock in. pp I say her father was in the plumbing business?” he inquired. “My error, Dick. He owns a newspaper out in Grand Rapids, Offered me a job any time I wanted it. Great joke then; pretty serious now, for I'm going out to apply. The other day I had a chill It occurred to me maybe she’d gone , and married the young man with the pale purple necktie who passes the plate in the Methodist church. So I beat it to the telegraph counter, and”— “She's heart whole and fancy free?” “0. K. In both respects. So it's me for Grand Rapids.” “Good boy!" said Minot. ' “I knew this game down here didn’t satisfy you. May I be the first to wish you joy?" : “You? With a face like a defeated candidate? I say. cheer up! She'll stretch out eager arms in your diree- tion yet.” “1 don’t believe it, Jack” 3s in. while theres 116 there's stil “Considerfivle hope 1¥ihg 160de about the landscape. That's why I don’t urge you to take the train with me.” A An Hou# ‘Tater "Mr. “Paddock spoke further cheering words in his friend's em “l wanted to pe cross with you & little longer,” she enid. "| ear and departed for the north, And ,in that city of moonlight and romance Minot was left practically alone. He took a little farewell walk , through that quaint old town, then re- F tired fo hfs room to read another chapter in the time table. At 4:29 in | the’ morning, Lie noted. a. small local train would leave for Jacksonville. He decided he would take it. With me parlor cars, no sleepers, he would not be likely to encounter upon it any of ‘the startled wedding party Bound nosth. ‘He rushed through the gate just: as it wes Delfig closed and caught a dreary: little train tn the very met.of pulling out. Gloomy. ofl lamps. sought “The 1as€ call old | vednly to: lessen the dour aspect.of its , two. coaches. Panting, he entered the | rear coach and threw himself ‘and’ his bag into a seat. +: Five seconds later he, glanced screen the aisle and discoverd in the eppo- ; site sent Miss Cynthis Meyrick, adogms- PREY by -a. very: sleepy. eyed. family. “The devil!” said Minot, to himself. He knew that she would see in this Utter accidenit nothing save a deliber- act of folowing. Yat ti - tedt his Mnotencor Via Hots ty He: considered moving to another | seat. But such a theatric act could only increase the embarrassment, Al ready, his presence had been noted— Aunt Mary had given him a glare, Spencer Meyrick a scowl, the girl a ody Tire “Where have I seen this n 7’ glance in passing. Speticer Meyrick went forward to the smoker. Aunt Mary, weary of life, =Md gently down to slumber. Her un- » lovely snore filled the dim car, How different this from the first ride together! The faint pink of the aky grew brighter. {etwtioned next weak) Friis 000000000000 PRACTICAL HEALTH HINT. Use of Mineral Oil. Dr. Le Tanneur contributes to the Paris Medical some practical points in the use of mineral of} in constipation, The oil, he says; i8 In no way digested or even modified by the juices of the stomach and intestines, It acts a8 a lubricant and no though it tends to hE sa, of the intestinal wall caused by rough particles of food, The New York Medical Jour nal says mineral ofl should be taken eitler before breakfast or after dinner, two tablespoon- door slammed; the car began to de- scend. Minot stood gazing through the iron scroll work until the } oo f the helpless Lord H : out £ aio} Yom Jack Paddock appea ed PEEP PEPE EP ESS EERE E SES to invite Mi- i fuls being a dose. Its use should be cont led every day for at least ortnight, when the 1 continue to work hdd dbbddttbdbtdi®troe & L243 322200450000 rE MEO (bMS ee TEoREr SIP dRCO0 ORE a op Ad ~ Be Acton Hwa f=