The Meyersdale commercial. (Meyersdale, Pa.) 1878-19??, March 22, 1917, Image 2

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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
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