1X
THE MEYERSDALE COMMERCIAL '
——i
L00008008 20 28 san
YOY
A808
| INBOW'S END 4
By REX BEACH
¢Copyright, by Harper and Brothers)
ovel |i
Author of “The Iron Trail,” “The
Spoilers,” “Heart of the Sunset,” Ete.
<
Be
PAA VVVMNANAVIIRIRIR RRR ETE
FOREWORD
The Cuba of the days of
Weyler and Gomez and the
ragged, half-starved bands
of “insurrectos” furnishes
an admirable background
for this delightful story, in
which love, war and the
search for a buried treasure
are the principal strands
that are interwoven to make
a plot that is worthy of the
mind of Rex Beach. The
author of “The Snoilers,”
“The Barrier,” and other
stirring tales, has produced
his most thrilling story in
“Rainbow’s End.”
CHAPTER |.
ie
The Valley of Delight.
In all probability your first view of
the valley of the Yumuri will be from
the Hermitage of Montserrate, for it is
there that the cocheros drive you.
There you overlook the fairest sight in
all Christendom—*the loveliest valley
0 the world,” as Humboldt called it—
sor the Yumuri nestles right at your
feet, a vale of pure delight, a glimpse
if Paradise that bewilders the eye and
fills the soul with ecstasy.
Standing beside the shrine of Our
Lady of Montserrate, you will see be-
yond the cleft through which the river
MVIWY FHV
God was jealous and took here to Para-
dise.”
The widowed man cried out angrily:
“paradise! What is this but Para-
dise?’ He stared with resentful eyes
at the beauty round about him. “See!
The Yumuri!” Don Esteban flung a
long arm outward. “Do you think there
is a sight like that in heaven? Para-
dise indeed! 1 gave her everything.
She gained nothing by dying.”
With a grave thoughtfulness which
proved him superior to the ordinary
slave, Sebastian replied :
“True! She hat all that any wom-
an’s heart could desire, but in return
for your goodness she gave you chil-
dren. You have lost her, but you have
gained an heir, and a beautiful girl
baby who will grow to be another
Donna Rosa. I grieved as you grieve,
once upon a time, for my woman died
in childbirth, too. You remember? But
my daughter lives, and she has brought
sunshine into my old age. That is the
purpose of children.” He paused and
shifted his weight uncentainly, digging
his stiff black toes into the dirt. After
a time he said, slowly: “Excellency!
Now, about the—well—?2”
“Yes. What about it?” ’
“Did the Donna Rosa confide her
share of the secret to anyone? Those
priests and those doctors, you know—""
“She died without speaking.”
“Then it rests between you and me?”
“It does, unless you have babbled.”
“Master!” Sebastian drew himself
up and there was real dignity in his
black face.
“Understand, my whole fortune is
there—everything, even to the deeds of
patent for the plantations. If I thought
there was danger of you betraying me
I would have your tongue pulled out
emerges another hill, La Cumbre, from
which the view is wonderful, and your
and your eyes torn from their sockets.”
The black man spoke with a sim-
driver may tell you about the splendid
pomes that used to grace its slopes
in the golden days when Cuba had an
aristocracy. Your cochero may point
out a certain grove of orange trees,
pow little more than a rank tangle,
and tell you about the quinta of Don
Esteban Varona, and its hidden treas-
are; about little Esteban and Rosa, the
twins; and about Sebastian, the giant
slave, who died in fury, taking with
tim the secret of the well.
The Spanish Main is rich in tales of
treasure-trove, for when the Antilles
were most affluent they were least se-
eure, and men were put to strange
shifts to protect their fortunes. Cer-
tain hoards, like jewels of tragic his-
tory, in time assumed a sort of evil
personality, not infrequently exercising
a dire influence over the lives of those
who chanced to fall under their spells.
it was as if the money were accursed,
gor certainly the seekers often came
to evil. Of such a character was the
7arona trensure. Don Esteban himself
was neithsr better nor worse than
other men of his time, and although
part of the money he hid was wrung
from the tvil of slaves and the traffic
in their bodies, much of it was clean
enough, and in time the earth purified
it all. Since his acts made so deep an
tmpress, amd since the treasure he left
played so big a part in the destinies of
those whi came after him, it is well
that som account of these matters
should be given.
The story, please remember, is an
old one: I't has been often told, and in
the telling and retelling it is but natural
(dat a ivertain glamour, a certain
jropical ‘extravagance, should attach to
't, therefore you should make allow-
ance for some exaggeration, some ac-
ecretions due to the lapse of time. In
the main, however, it is well authenti-
rated and runs parallel to fact.
Donna 1losa Varona lived barely long
enough to learn that she had given
pirth to twins. Don Esteban. whom
people krew as a grim man, took the
olow of his sudden bereavement as be-
came one of his strong fiber. Leaving
the priest upon his knees and the doc-
tor busied with the babies, he strode
;hrough the house and out into the
sunset, iollowed by the wails of the
slave women.
Don Euteban was at heart a selfish
man, end now, therefore, he felt a sul-
fen, fierce resentment mingled with
nis grief. What trick was this? he
asked himself. What had he done to
merit such misfortune? Had he not
made rich gifts to the church? Had he
got knelt and prayed for his wife's
safe delivery and then hung his gifts
apon the sacred image, as Loyola had
nung up his weapons before that other
counterpa © of Our Lady? Don Este-
pan scow’#d at the memory, for those
gems were of the finest.
He looked up from his unhappy
musings to find a gigantic bare-
footed negro standing before him.
The slave was middle-aged; his kinky
hair was growing gray; but he was of
superb proportions, and the muscles
which showed through the rents in his
cotton garments were as smooth and
supple as those of a stripling. His
plack face was puckered with grief,
as he began:
«Master, is it true that Donna Rosa
—» The fellow choked.
“yes” Esteban nodded,” wearily, *‘she
is dead, Sebastian.”
Tears r=me to Sebastian's eyes and
everflowed his cheeks; he stood mo-
gionless, striving to voice his sympathy.
length he said: :
#ghe was too good for this world.
plicity that carried conviction: “Times
are unsettled, Don Esteban, and death
comes without warning. You are
known to be the richest man in this
province and these government officials
are robbers. Suppose—I should be left
alone? What then?”
The planter considered for a mo-
ment. “Well, when my children are old
enough to hold their tongues they will
have to be told. If I'm gone, you shall
be the one to tell them. Now leave me;
this is no time to speak of such things.”
Sebastian went as noiselessly as he
had come. On his way back to his quar-
ters he took the path to the well—the
place where most of his time was ordi-
narily spent. Sebastian had dug this
well, and with his own hands he had
beautified its surroundings until they
were the loveliest on the Varona
grounds. It was Sebastian’s task to
keep this place green, and thither he
took his way, from force of habit.
Through the twilight came Pancho
Cueto, the manager, a youngish man,
with a narrow face and bold, close-set
eyes. Spying Sebastian, he began:
“So Don Esteban has an heir at
last?” .
The slave rubbed his eyes with the
heel of his huge yellow palm and an-
swered, respectfully:
“Yes, Don Pancho. Two little angels,
a boy and a girl.” His gray brows
drew together in a painful frown.
“Donna Rosa was a saint. No doubt
there is great rejoicing in heaven at
her coming. Eh? What do you think?”
«Um-m! Possibly. Don Esteban will
miss her for a time and then, I dare
say. he will remarry.” At the negro's
exclamation Cueto said: “So! And
why not? Everybody knows how rich
he is. From Oriente to Pinar del Rio
the women have heard about his treas-
ure.”
“What treasure?’ asked Sebastian,
after an instant’s pause.
Cueto’s dark eyes gleamed resent-
fully a* this show of ignorance, but he
laughed. :
“Ho! There's a careful fellow for
you! No wonder he trusts you. But
do you think I have neither eyes nor
ears? My good Sebastian, you know
all about that treasure; in fact, you
know far more about many things than
Don Esteban would care to have you
tell. Come now, don’t you?”
Sebastian's face was like a mask
carved from ebony. “Of what does this
treasure consist?’ he inquired. “I have
never heard about it.”
“Of gold, of jewels, of silver bars
and precious ornaments.” Cueto’s head
was thrust forward, his nostrils were
dilated, his teeth gleamed. “Oh, it is
somewhere about, as you very well
know! Bah! Don’t deny it. I'm no
fool. What becomes of the money
from the slave girls, eh? And the
sugar crops, too? Does it go to buy
arms and ammunit'on for the rebels?
No. Don Estebap hides it, and you
help him. Come,” Le cried, disregard-
ing Sebastian’s murmurs of protest,
“did you ever think how fabulous that
fortune must be by this time? Did you
ever think that one little gem, one
bag of gold, would buy your freedom?”
«Don Esteban has promised to buy
my freedom and the freedom of my
girl.”
«80? The manager was plainly
surprised. “I. didn’t know that.” After
a mo.xent he began to laugh. “And
yet you pretend to know nothing about
that treasure? Ha! You're a good
boy, Sebastian, and so I am. I admire
you. We're both loyal to our master,
Cueto’s face took on a craftier expres-
sion. “She is a likely girl, and when
she grows up she will be worth more
than you, her father. Don’t forget that
Don Esteban is before all else a busi-
ness man. Be careful that some one
doesn’t make him so good an offer for
your girl that he will forget nis prom-
ise and—sell her.”
Sebastian uttered a hoarse, animal
cry and the whites of his eyes showed
through the gloom. “He would never
sell Evangelina!”
Cueto laughed aloud once more. “Of
course! He would not dare, eh? Iam
only teasing you. But see! You have
given yourself away. Everything you
tell me proves that you know all about
that treasure.”
“I know but one thing” the slave
declared, stiffening himself slowly,
“and that is to be faithful to Don Es-
teban.” He turned and departed, leav-
ing Pancho Cueto staring after him
meditatively.
In the days following the birth of
his children and the deat of his wife,
Don Esteban Varona, as had been his
custom, steered a middle course in
politics, in that way managing to avoid
a clash with the Spanish officials who
ruled the island, or an open break with
his Cuban neighbors, who rebelled be-
neath their wrongs. Esteban dealt
diplomatically with both factions and
went on raising slaves and sugar to his
own great profit.
The twins, Esteban and Rosa, devel-
oped into healthy children and became
the pride of Sebastian and his daugh-
ter, into whose care they had been
given. As for Evangelina, the young
negress, she grew tall and strong and
handsome, until she was the finest
slave girl in the neighborhood.
Then, one day, Don Esteban Varona
remarried, and the Donna Isabel, who
had been a famous Habana beauty,
came to live at the quinta. The daugh-
ter of impoverished parents, she had
heard and thought much about the
mysterious treasure of La Cumbre.
Before the first fervor of his honey-
moon cooled the groom began to fear
that he had made a serious mistake.
Donna Isabel, he discovered, was both
vain and selfish. Not only did she
crave luxury and display, but with sin-
gular persistence she demanded to
know all about her husband’ financial
affairs. §
Now Don Esteban was no longer
young; age had soured him with sus-
picion, and when once he saw himself
as the victim of a mercenary marriage
he turned bitterly against his wife.
Her curiosity he sullenly resented, and
he unblushingly denied his possession
of any considerable wealth. In fact,
he tried with malicious ingenuity to
make her believe him a poor man. But
Isabel was not of the sort to be readily
deceived. Finding her arts and co-
quetries of no avail, she flew into a
rage, and a furious quarrel ensued—
the first of many. For the lady could
not rest without knowing all there was
to know about the treasure.
She searched the quinta, of course,
whenever she had a chance, but she
discovered nothing—with the result
that the mystery began to engross her
whole thought. She pried into the ob-
scurest corners, she questioned the
slaves, she lay awake at night listening
to Esteban’s breathing, in the hope of
surprising his secret from his dreams.
At length a time came when they lived
in frank enmity; when Isabel never
spoke to Esteban except in reproach or
anger, and when Esteban unlocked his
lips only to taunt his wife with the
fact that she had been thwarted de-
spite her cunning.
It was only natural under such con-
ditions that Donna Isabel should learn
to disiike her stepchildren—Esteban
had told her frankly that they would
inherit whatever fortune he possessed.
As may be imagined, she found ways
fo vent her spite upon the twins. She
widened her hatred so as to include old
Sebastian and his daughter, and even
went so far as to persecute Evange-
lina’s sweetheart, a slave named Asen-
sio.
It had not taken Donna Isabel long
to guess the reason for Sebastian’s
many privileges, and one of her first
efforts had been to win the old man’s
confidence. It was in vain, however,
that she flattered and cajoled, or
stormed and threatened; Sebastian
withstood her as a towering ceiba with-
stands the summer heat and the win-
ter hurricane.
His firmness made her vindictive,
and so in time she laid a scheme to
estrange him from his master.
Donna Isabel was crafty. She began
to complain about Evangelina, but it
was only after many months that she
ventured to suggest to her husband
that he sell the girl. Esteban, of
course, refused point-blank ; he was too
fond of Sebastian’s daughter, he de-
clared, to think of such a thing.
“So, that is it,” sneered Donna Isa-
bel. “Well, she is young and shapely
and handsome, as wenches go. I rather
suspected you were fond of her—"
With difficulty Esteban restrained an
oath. “You mistake my meaning,” he
said stifily. “Sebastian has served me
faithfully, and Evangelina plays with
my children. She is good to them; she
is more of a mother to them than you
have ever been.”
“Is that why you dress her like a
tossed her fine, dark head. “I'm not
blind ; I see what goes on about me. I
won’t have that wench in my house.”
Goaded to fury by his wife’s sense-
less accusation, Esteban cried: “Your
house? By what license do you call it
yours?”
“Am I not married to you?”
“Yes—as a leech is married to its
victim. You suck my blood.” :
“Your blood!” The woman laughed
shrilly. “You have no blood; your
veins run vinegar. You are a miser.”
“Miser! Miser! I grow sick of the
word. It is all you find to taunt me
with. Confess that you married me
for my money,” he roared.
“Of course I did! Do you think a
woman of my beauty would marry you
for anything else? But a fine bargain
I made!”
“Vampire!”
“Wife or vampire, I intend to rule
this house, and I refuse. to be shamed
by a thick-lipped African. Her airs
tell her story. She is insolent to me,
but—I sha’n’t endure it. She laughs
at me. Well, your friends shall laugh
at you.”
“Silence!” commanded Esteban.
“Sell her, or—"
Without waiting to hear her threat
Esteban tossed his arms above his
head and fled from the room. Flinging
himself into the saddle, he spurred
down the hill and through the town to
the Casino de Espanol, where he spent
the night at cards with the Spanish of-
ficials. But he did not sell Evangelina.
In the days that followed many simi-
lar scenes occurred, and as Hsteban’s
home life grew more unhappy his dissi-
pations increased. He drank and gam-
bled heavily ; he brought his friends to
the quinta with him, and strove to for-
get domestic unpleasantness in boister-
ous revelry.
His wife, however, found opportuni-
ties. enough to weary and exasperate
him with reproaches regarding the
slave girl.
CHAPTER IL.
Spanish Gold.
The twins were seven years old when
Donna Isabel’s schemes bore their first
bitter fruit, and the occasion was a
particularly, uproarious night when
Don Esteban entertained a crowd of
his Castilian friends. Little Rosa was
awakened at a late hour by the laugh-
ter and shouts of her father’s guests.
She was afraid, for there was some-
thing strange about the voices, some
quality to them which was foreign to
the child's experience. Creeping into
her brother’s room, she awoke him, and
(
ad
ns
)
iD
V
i
cl
J
“Your Father Has Sold Me to Him!”
together they listened. Rosa began to
whimper, and when Esteban tried to
reassure her his own voice was thin
and reedy from fright.
In the midst of their agitation they
heard some one weeping; there came a
rush of feet down the hallway, and the
next instant Evangelina flung herself
into the room.
She fell upon her knees before them.
“Little master! Little mistress!” she
sobbed. “You will save me, won't you?
We love each other, eh? See then,
what a crime this is! Say that you
will save me!”
The children were frightened, but
they managed to quaver: “What has
happened? Who has harmed you?”
“Don Pablo Peza,” wept the negress.
“Your father has sold me to him—lost
me at cards. Oh, I shall die! Sebas-
tian won’t believe it. He is praying.
And Asensio— But what can they do
to help me? You alone can save me.
You won’t let Don Pablo take me
away? It would kill me.”
“Wait!” Esteban scrambled out of
bed and stood lgfore his dusky nurse
and playmate. “Don’t cry any more.
I'll tell papa that you don’t like Don
Pablo.”
Rosa followed.
brother,” she cried, shrilly. “We'll teh
Don Pablo to go home and leave our
Evangelina.”
“My blessed doves! But will they
listen to you?” moaned the slave.
“Papa does whatever we ask,” they
assured her, gravely. “If he should
growl we’ll come back and hide you in
the big wardrobe where nobody will
ever find you.” Then hand in hand,
with their long nightgowns lifted to
their knees, they pattered out into the
hall and down toward the living room,
whence came the shouting and the
laughter.
Don Mario de Castano, who was fac-
ing the door, stopped in the midst of a
ribald song to cry: “God be praised!
What's this I see?”
The others looked and then burst
into merriment, for across the litter of
¢ards and dice and empty glasses they
saw a dimpled girl and boy, as like as
two peas. They were just out of bed ;
they were peering through the smoke,
and blinking like two little owls.
“So! You awaken the household
with your songs,” some one chided Don
Mario.
“Pwo cherubs from heaven,” another
exclaimed.
But the father lurched forward, a
frown upon his face. “What is this, my
dears?’ he inquired, thickly. “Run
back to your beds. This is no piace
for you.”
“We love Evangelina,” piped the
twins. “You must not let Don Pablo
have her—if you please.”
“Evangelina?”
They nodded. “We love her. . . «
She plays with us every day. . . =
We want her to stay here. . . . She
belongs to us.”
Accustomed as they were to prompt
compliance with their demands, they
spoke imperiously ; but they had never
seen a frown like this upon their fa-
ther’s face.
“Go to your rooms, my sweethearts,”
Don Esteban directed.
“We want Evangelina. She belongs
to us,” they chorused, stubbornly.
Don Pablo shook with laughter. “So!
She belongs to you, eh? And I'm to
be robbed of my winnings. Very well,
then, come and give me a kiss, both of
you, and I'll see what can be done.”
But the children saw that Don Pab-
lo’s face was strangely flushed, that
his eyes were wild and magnificent
beard was wet with wine; therefore
they hung back.
“You won your bet fairly,” Esteban
growled at him. “Pay no heed to these
babies.” :
“Evangelina is ours,” the little ones
bravely repeated.
Then their father exploded: “The
devil! Am I dreaming? Where have
you learned to oppose me? Back to
your beds, both of you.” Seeing them
hesitate, he shouted for his wife. “Ho,
there! Isabel, my love! Come put
these imps to rest. Or must I teach
them manners with my palm? A fine
thing, truly! Are they to be allowed
to roam the house at will and get a
fever?” : '
Mere mention of their stepmother’s
name was enough for Rosa and Este-
ban; they scuttled away as fast as
they could go, and when Donna Isabel
came to their rooms, a few moments
later, she found them in their beds,
with their eyes deceitfully squeezed
shut. Evangelina was cowering in a
corner. Isabel had overheard the wager,
and her soul was evilly alight; she
jerked the slave girl to her feet and
with a blow of her palm sent her to
her quarters. Then she turned her at-
tention to the twins. When she left
them they were weeping silently, both
for themselves and for Evangelina,
whom they dearly loved.
Day was breaking when Esteban
Varona bade his guests good-by at the
door of his house. As he stood there
Sebastian came to him out of the
mists of the dawn. He was half crazed
from apprehension, and now cast him-
self prone before his master, begging
for Evangelina.
The secret of the hiding
place of the buried treasure
dies with the two men who pos-
sess it. How this happened is
told in the next installment.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Prefer Musical Education.
Music, more than the other arts, is
a thing apart, and the instinctive
knowledge of it, discovered sometimes
in even the youngest children where a
rich musical experience is offered, is
past all computation by the educa-
tional mind. The jealous tutorial mind
which presumes to teach music to the
young without allowing and insuring
them a rich experience of music, and
to detay by the penurious educational
method, however well meaning, the
child’s or youth’s contact with musical
life, is as little thrifty as one who
would dam up the springs of a river to
construct a meager drain pipe.—Ex-
change.
The Alert Auditor.
“Anybody pay much attention te
THAT CHANGE IN
~ WOMAN'S LIFE
Mrs. Godden Tells How I
May be Passed in Safety
and Comfort.
0.—*1 was passing through:
the critical period of life, being forty~
.
2% toms incidenttothat.
change—heat flash-
es, nervousness, and
run
: troubles, which it
surely proved to be. I feel better and
sien in every way Sines i=king it,
and the annoying ms have disap-
Poarsd.” — Mrs. H. GobDEN, 925 Na-
poleon St., Fremont, Ohio.
Such annoying symptons as heat
flashes, nervousnsss, backache, head-
ache, irritability and ‘‘ the blues,’’ may
be speedily overcome and the system.
restored to normal conditions by this
famous root and herb remedy Lydia
Pinkham’s Vegetable Compoun
If any complications present theme
selves write the Pinkham Medicine Co.,
Lynn, Mass., for suggestions how to
overcome them. The’ result of forty
years experience is at your service and
your letter held in strict confidence.
The Misplaced “Sir.”
“John M. Browning, inventor of the
Browning machine gun adopted by our
army, and of scores of other world-
famous firearms, was, early in 1914,
made a ‘sir’ by King Albert of Belgium,
who conferred upon him the decora-
tion of ‘Chevalier de Ordre de Leo-
pold,” says John Bruce Mitchell in the
May Forum. “An Englishman of title,
on a government mission, called upon
Mr. Browning at his home in Ogden,
Utah.
“Sir John M. Browning? he asked.
“+John M. Browning, sir!” snapped
Browning, and the Englishman, taking
the hint, called him ‘Mister’ after
that.”
A Cure a Day Is This
Splendid Medicine’s Record
When Mr. W. W. Reed discovered
the splendid mixture that bears the
name of “Bagle Pile Remedy” little
did he think this medicine would
prove the great aid to humankind it
did. For Mr. Reed was a sufferer
whom physicians and operations had
age, he glories in the wide use of his:
great remedy. ’
It can help you, Mr. Man and Mrs.
Woman. You can begin taking it at
once in perfect confidence that it wilk
benefit you. For more than 20 years
it has been in successful use. A triak
box of 24 tablets, eaten like candy, is
sufficient proof. Send $1 to Reed Dis-
tributing Co., 141 Godwin St., Pater-
son, N. J.—Adv.
Innovation Justified.
A wordy dispute has been stirred up
in England over the action of the
authorities in stationing a tank on the
Worcester cathedral green. This was
denounced by some as sacrilege, but
the dean pointed out that we are fight-
ing in a sacred cause.
Toke Care of Your Horses!
Nothi: 18 uch
BE i ott
Dr. David Roberts’
PHYSIC BALL and
HORSE TONIC "5a
once every three months—makes &
Block Soh Drovenss worms, ete.
e: e Practical Hom i
Bend for free booklet on 3¢ Velerutian
Ka If no dealer in yi town, write
Br. David Boberts’ Vet. Co., 100 Grand Avenue, Waukesna, Wis.
TIRES
direct from the
FACTORY
40% off
pense; you save 407, of
theregularpriceon high-
est grade standard tires,
GUARANTEED
FOR 4000 MILES
# You are paying 40%, more for tires that
© may not be as good—that extra price adds
nothing to the quality or wear of the tires.
Saveit; buy direct. Weship C.O.D.subject
to your inspection, or, 5%, discount if check
in full issentwith order. Dez'ersand garages
, Jpuyonthesameterms. Writefor pricelist#25.
‘ “'HIGH-MILEAGE TIRE CO. ~~
\ 304 North Broad St., Philadelphia, Pe. J
No More Gray Hair
Restores Feded and Gray
Hair only. From a Golden
Blonde to a Jet Black with=
out having any effect on the
naturel color. Sold under
strictly money back guar-
All standard
es (in our
stock.
If your local dealer can-
not supply you, write direct to
The Wonderine Laboratories
403 May Building, Pittsburgh, Pa.
DIRECTIONS IN
EACH BOX
Kill All Flies! ™7&&E"
Plated anywhere, Daisy Fly Killer attracts and kills
ee. Neat, clean, ornamental, convenient and cheap.
your speech?’ “One person,” replied
Senator Sorghum. “The stenographer
eh? But now about Evangelina.”
jady? Bah! A likely story!” Isabel
“Yes, come along,
1 was obliged to get every word of it.”
2m
BALD AVE., BROOKLY?, 0k Vo
not benefited. Now being 84 years of
=
Ves
Is
ALL
No
——
<han
dcan
doed
<clal
whic
-davi
Secre
Ne
soon |
ing tl
have
of we
Sec
dress
here,
id
distar
take
Frenc
thus
ian f)
the c«
effort
tivitie
powel
SAA
Ww
WA
issued
to joi
of thi
strati
EDI
nounc
that
been
in Ire]
mans
in Fre
NE)
Super
to eli
school
KAI
Stokes
was fi
violati