rfiSAiri | DONALDSON, JR. j F Being a True Record and Explanation 1 ▼ of the Seven Mysteries Now Asso- A dated inth Jlis Kaine In the X PulUc Mind, and of an A Eighth, Witch Is the Q T Key of the Seven I By HOWARD FIELDING 4 A Copyright, ISJO2, by Charles W. Hooks £ • C [Continued from last Week. | "I'll tell you the truth!" he cried, wheeling toward me suddenly. "The psychic matter hasn't anything to dc with It. It's because I'm in love witli somebody else. I've got no business tc be in love, but I am. On the chance that the woman I love may love me 1 aught togo and drown myself—in het Interest—but I won't. I will stay righl here and win her If I can. I'm selfish enough to do it, vain enough to think 1 □lay succeed, and it seemed to In my Cuty to tell you about it, Mr. Harring on, considering the very peculiar cir cumstances of the case." "Who 1s the young lady?" I inquired. For some strange reason a flood of Amotion choked him as he tried to speak her name. He struggled with it for an instant and then answered me by throwing out his right arm so that he pointed to the window and across the broad lawn and nearly the whole town beyond it, half a mile or more in all, to the house where Dorothy lived. I understood him perfectly. "You couldn't please me better than that," said I. "With all my heart I wish you well." Some days later Dorothy told me that she was much more encouraged about the school and that she had quite given up the idea of going away. She was devoted to the work, and yet I knew that it was not her success there in which had so lightened her heart. When Hackett learned how matters stood, he insisted that my theory about a natural antipathy between psychics was overthrown, but I preferred tore- T/iey were married in n>y house. gard the case as merely exceptional. Obviously the rule cannot be ironclad, for if such were the fact occult powers would disappear from the world. At any rate, this was a true love match if ever there was one. Their happiness brought out the noblest qual ities of their hearts. They did wonder ful work that winter, both of them, justifying my best hopes and winning my warmest good will. It was to be a long engagement. Dorothy had mentioned two years, I bslieve. But in the late spring we planned to send Donaldson abroad, with the result that Dorothy decided to go too. So they were married in my house, which was rose bedecked for the occasion. There were festivities which lasted until sundown, and then while some of the younger guests were tying telltale ribbons to the carriage that waited before my door the two lovers escaped by another way and ran hand in hand like children across the fields through the sweet June even ing. It appeared that they had secret ly sent all their baggage to the railroad etation earlier in the day. CHAPTER V. THE MTSTEBY OF THE EXPECTED nOEBER. DONALD PONALDSON, JE.. was born May 2, 1881. lie was the healthiest and alto gether the finest child that ever came into the world, tlie most de sired, the best loved. And whimsical nature exacted the smallest possible price of pain for him. Yet permit me to reconsider that otatement in the light of a better phi losophy. There are those who say that ID adversity one need not shout for the awakening of the gods nor in the day of superabundance dread it; tint noth ing comes which is not earned. It may be that a young mother reaped no more than the just reward of consistent light living from her earliest girlhood. How ever that may be, the fact remains that all things went Incredibly well. Behold Dorothy, as pretty as ever and not a day older, tripping about the house with a song; behold the boy, healthy as a young lion and roaring, when he roared, for bis own good pleasure and not for any ill. Hackett prophesied great things of him, believing that his exploits would some day necessitate a revised edition of our "Psychic Facts," a work that was then complete except for the last section, which Hackett wished to en title "The Iteal Facts" despite the Imputation upon the accuracy of the preceding portions. As to his hopes of young Donald my partner spoke only once in the pres ence of the boy's parents. "You'd have thought I had accused him of being cross eyed," said he to me in describing the incident, and there after we discussed the subject strictly in private. >Our book eventually went to the printer, but Hackett never saw it in a binding. He was stricken with an ill ness which rushed onto a fatal ter mination in such haste that it seemed all over in a day.and I was standing by the grave of my oldest friend. After ward 1 could hardly bear to look at the book upou which we had labored to gether. I left everything to others. It hod a small success and was soon for gotten, though recent events have led the publishers to print some thousands of copies from the old plates. The work Is full of unbounded belief and equally unfounded doubt. 1 am proud only of the former, which was mostly Hack ett's. A natural, houest, seemingly baseless belief is probably founded up on the knowledge of the ages and the soul's sympathy with infinite wisdom, but your doubt is likely to be your own, and you should be the more mod est in the expression of it. Pardon this about "I's.v g chic Facts." The psychic fact witb T which this present record principally 112 concerns itself is Donaid Donaldson. b > Jr., and from this point onward I shal' T stick closely to him. I have given a ■ view of his parents because that was I absolutely necessary to an understand £ ing of his nature and of the events in 112 which ho took part. 1 shall now very fc briefly sketch his youth, which was 4 unmarked by any incident out of the £ ordinary. j? He was a healthy baby and a sturdy, r .otive schoolboy when the years had L brought him onward to that stage of 1 life. Mentally he was too quick to re quire diligence. The tasks in the Tun bridge schools were easy for liini, and he led his classes without effort. It 1, must he remembered, however, that no e other pupil had equally good home o training. His mother was a teacher, li both by nature and by instruction. He 0 might have advanced more rapidly un e der her care alone, 1.-ut the public scliool 1 is a part of our creed in Tunbridge. if >r any school in the town had not been a it good place for Donald, we should not h have taken him away. We should I : have made the schcol better. y While upon this subject I will quote a curious remark that I once heard a :- little girl make to another in Don's hearing and somewhat in the way of a i. taunt: 112 "Don Donaldson always knows what 0 the teacher's going to ask him. He t guesses it before recitation and hunts 0 It up in his book." t I questioned the little girl, but could s not learn that she had any basis for e her belief except Donald's proficiency j i in his studies and a vague tradition that he "could guess things." It was impossible to discover any specific in , | stance worth mentioning. In the 1 sports of boys he was very successful, but any boy will be so who grows up ; I ahead of his years. From the time 1 when he reached school age he was al > ; ways growing more rapidly in height > and weight than the average. More [ | over, he played with tremendous ener j gy and concentration. lie was fond of | rough games, but neither suffered inju a ry nor indicted it. Indeed he presently t j began to be known as "lucky," and if ; I were to select one attribute of his which never deserted him and seemed ! always to make its impression upon his associates I would choose his "luck." For luck is a personal quality. It 5 means, as a rule, no mote than an in ! stinctive accuracy of judgment, the i power that makes a bird fly south in the fall, though he knows nothing of the danger which he is . scaping, liav ! ing never seen a winter. If you tell me that it is rational supe : riority which enables a boy to thrust his head into a football scrimmage in a place where it will not encounter an j other boy's list or his skull or his feet and to keep on doing this nil through a ' season of the game. I shall laugh at i' you. Yet it is well known that injuries are not equally distributed; that nei ther the strong nor the prudent es | cape them; that the boy who doesn't i get hurt is the one who has the faculty, i the natural gift, the instinctive guid | ance, the luck. And the world Is a I great football game, full of flying fists and feet. ! So when I say that Donald was lucky 1 decline to be accused of superstition or | of fatalism. That which all of us be ; lieve in, though some of us affect to | doubt it, the thing called luck as a per i sonal asset, is neither ordinary good l judgment nor the favor of heaven. It is the faculty of relying upon a deep | • seated, guiding power resident in the J individual and nearly if not quite in , j fallible. . ] This power is not limited by the . j fineness of the physical senses. It will j help you to dodge an invisible microbe I just as a more obvious instinct will help you to dodge a snowball. It is I natural to step out of the snowball's j path, but if you hesitate and try to ! reason about it you will get hit. And . ! the same thing is true of that mysteri ! ous force within you which is absolute , j ly at one with nature. In Donald there appeared a singular . | combination of spontaneous judgment i i and deliberate action. As a child he i | would respond to questions slowly .and ,! with care, even when the expression , 1 of his eyos showed that the correct , i answer had flashed through his mind I | Instantly. His greatest and most ob ( ' stinate fault was secretiveness. Though . j his nature was very affectionate and I his sympathy most tender, he lacked ! the natural tendency to confide his ' troubles, his joys or his hopes to those I he loved, even to his mother. He had no slyness. He was at no pains to keep a secret. He simply said nothing about it and gave no sign of its ex istence. We were often grieved to find that he had left us in ignorance of some in cident of his daily life, some act nei ther praiseworthy nor blamable or <>ne perhaps involving a moral question be }'ond the appreciation of his years. When reproved for such an omission, his customary—and, I believe, sincere— reply would be: "Why, it never occurred to me that you didn't know." It was frequently necessary to give him qui'.' an elaborate explanation be fore he s; emed to realize that we had had no means of knowing. By all this I do not wish to give the i impression that he was a markedly phenomenal boy, but it is Important, of course, that I should point out all par , ticulars iri which lie differed from the average. 1 have therefore with great care selected these three peculiarities: 1 He thought very quickly and spoke very slowly. ' He had an unconquerable habit of \ I keeping his own affairs to himself, i lie enjoyed remarkably good fortune, r including a notable immunity from 111- r ness and injury, in which connection I may record the fact that he never had one of the so called diseases of child > hood. In other respects he was the typical i American boy. He played as much as possible and studied when his con science or his elders compelled him to ' do so. He had his friendships and his 1 childish loves. He romped gayly in the long summer evenings and com ' rnitted clever and amusing mischief once in awhile, in regard to which I 3 think that CM- the recording angel 1 always waited for Donald's confes sion and never attempted to know the " facts in advance of it. J At the age of sixteen he was ready I for college. He was then six feet in height and weighed 170 pounds. lie | c resembled both his parents, but was | generally called his mothers boy, for j ' he had her red gold hair and bright j blue eyes. His father's nature lay the j ' deeper in him. It came to the surface | 9 most plainly in moments of excitement, and at such times, even during his *■* childhood, young Donald would exhibit ' the solemn, superficial calm and ex treme precision of speech which had al- ways characterized the "deacon" when In a high state of nervous tension. ' If lie had during his youth such '' psychic experiences as are not tlie com r mon lot of humanity, I was not able l ' to observe them. A few vague hints of no more importance than the school girl's remark which I have quoted would have been the best evidence that I could have adduced previous to the month of June in the year 1899. We were expecting him home from college in a week or two when we were , surprised by receiving this telegram: Last exam, today. Leave Immediately. ; You will see me tomorrow. We knew that he had intended to j stay beyond class day and that the | varsity baseball nine, of which he was , a member, had not closed its season, so I the message puzzled us and gave rise to considerable anxiety. His mother telegraphed for an explanation, but no answer came. On tiie morrow, how ever, came Donald himself, hale and happy, anil handsome beyond the dreams of romance. When we assailed him with questions, he stared at us. "Why, there's no particular reason for my coming," said he."l merely felt like it; that's all." Then after a pause he added: "I wonder why the dickens I did come? I can't think, unless it was be cause I wanted to see my very best girl." Whereupon he put his arm across his mother's shoulders and kissed her/ tenderly upon the forehead and hair To all appearances Dorothy might i' deed have been his "very best girl" perhaps his sister, but surely not, s mother. She had preserved her yc .h --ful looks to a degree that is beyom. the credence of the reader, so that I shall not attempt to state the truth about it. When she was thirty, the Tunbridge people spoke of her with wonder, and she looks younger now than she did then. Donaldson, upon the other hand, has aged greatly. He is a worrying man, I am afraid, and must always be so. Moreover, he received a peculiar in jury some years ago, when an old fac tory building which we bought from the Strobel estate collapsed while a dozen of our workmen were inspect ing it with a view to ascertaining its needs. Donaldson was the first to per ceive the peril, and it is said that he sustained a mass of falling timbers in the posture of Atlas long enough to permit several of his companions to crawl out to safety who would other wise have been shut in. A maze of tradition has grown up around this in cident, but it really involved nothing more than a very ready and brave use of great physical strength. Though he escaped broken bones or any specific hurt to which the best of doctors could give a location or a name, he was never the same man afterward. He began to stoop in the shoulders and to move more slowly, and upon his forty-sec ond birthday his hair was as white as mine. He was morbidly sensitive about the change iy his looks, though ho had come by it so honorably, and I have seen tears in his eyes when strangers have spoken of Dorothy as his daugh ter. I think that he had always held too high an idea of youth. It is a com mon fault and was exaggerated in him by his love of Dorothy, who would not grow old. She seemed to stand still while he was dragged onward in the grip of time. This is the natural sor row of women, but one which men are rarely called upon to bear. When Donald came home that June day. his father was busy about some matter of immediate importance, and so the boy and 1 walked down to the of fice, as we call it, a separate building upon the other side of the street from the factory. I was witness of a most affectionate greeting. Donaldson was very proud of his son, as he had every reason to be, and the boy loved him heartily. Afterward Donald paid his respects to the office staff, especially to eld Jim Bunn, our cashier, and His crippled assistant, Tim Ilealy, some times called Tiny im, a youth who sat on a very high stool and kept the hand somest set of books in the state of New Jersey. 1 lost sight of Donald for a little while and subsequently discovered him in my private ottiee. He was sitting iD my chair, with his head thrown back and his clasped bands pressed hard across his eyes. I asked him what wafl the matter, and he started up and be gau to walk around the room in a pe culiar, aimless fashion. "Uncle John," said he at last, "every thing is all right, isn't it? You're not worried or anxious?" "Anxious?" said 1. "Certainly not What should I be anxious about?" "I don't know," said be, with hesita tion. "Perhaps I oughtn't to have ask td you the question." "Ask me whatever you please, m„ boy," said I. lie resumed his restless wanderin. ibout the room. "I wish 1 knew what to do," he said ».t last. "I feel very uneasy." "In regard to what?" 1 inquired. "That's just the point," he replied "What is it all about? I don't know." He had a despondent and tormented air, and the sight of it carried me back a good many years to the day when 1 had first seen his father. It was im possible to shake my mind free of this memory. The scene of long ago in Bertram's eating house recurred with startling vividness. I was aware of a strange sensation that this was something for which I had been waiting—a long expected oc currence. There came to me also an indescribable depression of spirit and a sense of chill. "Do you mean"— I began. But he begged me hastily not to ask him any thing. "This is a queer business, Uncle John," said he."l think I'm on the point of getting myself into all kinds of a tangle, and I don't want to do it the very first day I'm home. Please let me think it over." "Speak when you are ready, Donald," said I."It was always a habit of yours." We were interrupted by the advent of Dorothy, who had come down from the house in a pony phaeton. She wore a sober gray gown, but it had the dain ty grace of all her raiment. Dorothy never takes any pains to dress either j'oung or old. Her clothes are for Dor othy. They would not suit anybody else, and they have nothing to do with years. Donald surveyed her with affeetiou ate admiration. "My incredible mother!" said he, drawing her close to him and looking I down Into her face. Then 1 saw the tears come suddenly I into his eyes. He drew a quick, deep I breath and stood sharply erect, so that j he seemed to grow both in breadth and ; height, while she looked almost like a frightened child in the embrace of bis arm. "Be careful!" she cried, with a gasp and a laugh. "You will break my bones!" "Did I hurt you, little mother?" said he. "Well, by the same token, nobody else ever shall." "To what do we owe the honor of this visit?" I asked Dorothy, and she replied that she had come to take my nephew, Carleton Anler, across to the town of Solway, where our other fac tory was situated. Archer was an able, energetic and ambitious young ' man who liad been brought into my service about two years before to be Donaldson's assistant and lighten his burdens. He lived at my house and was the leading spirit in all our recre ations. lie was blessed with unfailing ; activity of mind and body. He could | both work and play at the same time. Often he has come to me at midnight i with business plans that he had thought out during the evening, an ' evening devoted to ceaseless gayety of | the somewhat childish sort in which he found his chief delight and relaxa tion. lie was an enthusiast for the gentler forms of athletics, sucli as wo men may indulge in, and as a result of his efforts there were tennis courts j upon our lawn and golf links on the ! south slope of the hill. After Dorothy and Carl had ridden away in the phaeton Donald remained with me until luncheon time, when he and his father and I walked up to the bouse together. The boy was not quite himself, as any one could see, and I was consumed with curiosity to know what lay on his mind, but experience taught me to ignore the subject. Donald spent the afternoon with his mother, who returned from Sol way, which was only a matter of live miles distant, in time for luncheon. In the evening he disappeared, and I found "Be careful!" she cried. him about 0 o'clock sitting on the steps of the office. I don't know how I happened togo down there and should be inclined to include it among the mysteries of the affair. "Uncle John," said he when I sat down beside him, "you told me that I could ask you whatever I pleased, j Will you tell me whether you are sur rounded by thoroughly trustworthy people in your business?" This was a rather startling question, ' »nd I answered it with another: "Do you know anything to the con trary?" "No," he replied. "If I did, I'd tell you, of course. I don't know anything, j but I feel a lot! Is Mr. Bunn a good ; sian?" I replied that old Jim Bunn had been with me for thirty years and might be banked upon so long as he lasted, which couldn't be very long, poor fel low, since his health was so bad. He then asked me a similar question in regard to every other person holding a position of any consequence in the company, even including his own fa- , ther, though Of course it was not a query in this case, but a naive and boy ish expression of confidence. I an- i swered soberly for them all that they were good men and true and even en- I tered into some explanation of my method of judging men. Donald seemed rather discouraged than cheered. "It must be something else," said he. j "You have a feeling that all's not right here," said I. "Is that why you came home so suddenly?" "Yes, sir," he replied, and then, with i hesitation: "Do you believe there si anything queer about me? I've al- | ways had an impression that you thought I wasn't quite —quite right. There have been some stories about "Both your parents," said I, "pos sessed a power which I once thought myself competent to define and ex plain, but I have grown more modest." "Once possessed it?" he echoed, with what I might call joyful animation. "Then it's something a person can get rid of, outgrow? You d n't always have to have it?" "1 think you know more about the Bubject than I do," was my answer, "and if you don't now you will some day." "I'd like to have you tell me about my father and mother and the tilings that they did," said he, "but I mustn't ask you, because I tried to get it out of them long ago, and they didn't want me to know." I applauded this view, and so we spoke of other subjects as we walked home together. CHAPTER VI. MYBTERY OF THE EXPECTED ROBBER (CONTINUED). ABOUT r> o'clock in the follow ing afternoon Donald came to me as I sat alone In my work room at the office. "Uncle John," said he,"l have de cided to make a startling and terrible fool of myself once and for all and have it over with. If I do, you'll for give me, won't you? I wish you'd give me permission to do any Idiotic thing that comes into my mind. It's better than getting drunk, as some fellows at college do, and running around with all kinds of people, but their parents forgive them." I told him that it would Indeed be a startling and terrible thing which could make him any less my boy than lie had always been. "Then it's all settled," said he,"and here goes!" He strode up to a safe that was in the room, a small safe compared to those in the outer office, yet of a new style and very strong. "In that safe," said he, "there are two packages of money. They are in brown paper, with rubber bands around them. One of them is not quite so thick as a pack of cards, and the other is thicker than two packs. The larger one is on top." "The larger one is on top?" 1 repeat ed. "How do you know that?" "I know it, uncle," lie replied. "That's all I can say." "It Is important in such matters as this," said I."to distinguish between the knowledge that can come from reading another person's mind and that which proceeds directly from the heart of nature. It is the latter class which is deepest down in this realm of mys tery. Now, I know that there are two such packages as you describe in that sale, but if you know which of them is on top you must have got your infor mation direct, without the interposi tion of another mind, for only one hu man being besides yourself ever knew. j and lie has forgotten. In fact, I'm not I sure that I could have told you the i next instant after I had put tinm there. : I don't believe that my mind t< ok any cognizance of the relative position." "Let's have a look at them, said he eagerly. "If I should be wrong" He did not tinisli the sentence, but I could see that lie felt the invariable joy of the true psychic i:i uny suggestion or prospect of failure. Meanwhile 1 was opening the safe, it contained noth ing except a few documents of mine and the money. We had inl< .d< d to use it for some books of the Tun! ridge branch, a little independent railroad which connects our town with the trunk line, but an um :.peeled and somewhat mysterious opposition had arisen among the executive officers of this insignificant corporation, and so the headquarters remained at tlit.' Junc tion. In the furthcoming annual meet ing this would all lie r etiiicd, as we controlled a majority of the stock. I swung open the outer doors and then unlocked the inner ones and my private drawer, in which lay the pack ages, the larger of them on top. I rais ed them with my linger sufficiently for Donald to see and then dropped them back. He nodded many times ill a slow and rather solemn fashion. "Does any l ody else know they're there?" he asked. "Your father," said !, adding, with a smile: "But he didn't know how they lay or even that they were in my pri vate drawer. He had the combination of the safe, but I have all the k ys of the drawers and of the inner doors." "The larger package," said Donald in a monotonous tone, as if he were re ]>eating a lesson, "co: tains !?T_\o<ii); the smaller contains ,SS,OOO. The bills are of many denominations. I don't know why." "The money came from several sources," said I."It is to be used in payment for part of what is known as the Ilackett interest. Mr. Ilaekctt was my partner, who died many years ago. He left a considerable part of his inter est to an aunt, whose children have since inherited it. It is her oldest son whom we s-.re going to buy out. Of course, we can pay him by check, but for certain reas dis we wanted to have a good supply of legal tender on hand." "That's Mr. William Ilackett, isn't it?" asked Donald. I remember see ing him here last winter when I was at home. He's the man with the red lace, red whiskers, red hair everything red, even his necktie, as I recall him." "That's the man," said 1. "Weil, uncle." he returned, "I hope Mr. Ilackett may get the money, if [ that's your intention, but there's an other man after it." I perceived that we had got down to the root of the matter. "Another man?" I queried, j "There is a pale, hard featured man, with prominent ears and a brutal look ] about the mouth," said the boy. "He i has lips that are as stiff and hard as j iron. His chin li s a little peaked point I with a queer dimple that looks like a I shot hole. The left side of his mouth !is lower than the right. He is coming , here for this money. He is about 5 feet U inches tali and of medium j weight, a tritie thin pi rhaps. I can't say how old he is, but his hair is griz zled, though I wouldn't wish to speak definitely about that, for I never saw ; him with his hat off." "You've seen him?" I exclaimed. Donald smiled at u:p. and. extending his hand, he tapped upon the drawer l of the safe. I understood immediately that he had not seen the individual in the ordinary way of mortal vision. "You think that he is coming here for this money?" said I. "Uncle, I know it," replied Donald, j "I know that he intends to get this ! money and that he feels perfectly sure I about it, and, the worst of it is. that I keep having the itnpn ssion of his 'getting it unless something very un | usual, something quite out of the or- I dinar}', happens to prevent. 1 don't I seem to have any confidence in the < strength of the safe or in our watcli ! man, and 1 don't know whether it I would do any good to take the money and put it somewhere else." ! "What do you want us to do?" 1 ask , ed. "Set a special watch?" "The thing that would please me best," he replied, "would be to have this matter a secret between you and me. Can't we do that. Uncle John? Don't tell my father or mother or any body. Just let me wander down here every evening and sleep on that couch. Nobody need know, and if nothing hap pens you won't laugh at me." I answered that I could not allow him to take the risk, and I held to this opinion although he protested that there was no ground for alarm. "This man wouldn't make a luncheon for me, uncle," said he, squaring his broad shoulders. "I'd be positively ashamed to lay a hand upon him in violence. Besides, I*ll bring down my shotgun if you'd feel any safer." We discussed the matter for a few minutes, with the result that I tele phoned to New York for a detective whom I have occasionally consulted. He is at the head of one of the best private bureaus and prides himself upon a personal acquaintance with ev ery criminal of consequence in the country. That evening after dinner Donald and I went out for a walk, and in a secluded place which had been desig nated in advance we met Mr. Graves Iteedy, the detective. When the case was unfolded to this astute and expe rienced man, he confessed that he not ed in it some slight flavor of the un usual. "I ain't exactly accustomed to hav ing descriptions come in this way," said he, "but I'll tell you one thing right off the griddle—l know the man. I ain't seen him in some time and thought he was out of business. It was said that he'd gone to Australia, and then I was told that he was dead. But, dead or alive, Havid ''reel, alias Williams, alias Carney, is the man." "You recognize him?" said 1. He spread out his hands ;:s one who dismisses a matter that is all settled "Perfect," said he. "There's only one Scotch Davy tint's lib : ■Ltian • He's a safe blower, and a oed O:II He must be sixty years o! I by thin time." "He didn't look it." saiil I : Id. "He's a well prcserv I inati," re Joined the detective, "or was the las' time I saw liini. lie's always lived right; never dissipated or had any bad habits. He was a good man in his way and kind to bis family. Did you notice how he was dressed?" "A sort of dark sack suit, as 1 re member," replied Donald. "Kind of a reddish brown?" "Yes, with a faint red stripe." "You mean what they call an invisi ble check." said the detective—"stripes up and down and crossways?" "Precisely." Reedy rubbed his head. "That's the suit he was wearing nine years ago when I saw him last," said he. "Can't have it yet. Be worn out before this time. By gee! It begins to look as if he was dead." He laughed softly and then became serious. ; ONE STEP MORE Will be fatal to the sleep-walker. Will he draw back or will he take the final, fatal step? A great many people are in peril like ti»e sleep-walker. They are diseased. The disease is progressing day by day. The time conies when one more step away from health i. fatal. The man who has suffered from indi gestion or gastric trouble fljr? goes some night to a tgydinner and returns home to find he has taken that ifij j j last step from health MAi J which can never be tak ffflu/' 1 I J en ' ,ac^- fTo neglect the cure {nil ij /Ou of indigestion or some l 11 /.Mir.. o ther form of stomach trouble is dangerous. It is also inexcusable. Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical Discovery cures diseases of the stomach and other organs of digestion and nutrition. It purifies the blood, stimulates the liver, cures biliousness, and eliminates bilious poisons from the sys- tem. J "The praise I would like C imin ma ug V SI ' Baa writ'.-.- Jas r. Ambros* 1 m| \Wm of 1205 Mifflin St Hunt ingdofi. Pa. "I was taken with what our physicians said was indigestion. I doctored with thfr best around here and found no relief. I wrote you, and yon adrtaed me to use Dr. Pierce'* Golden Medical Discovery. I i took three bottles and I felt so good that I | stopped—being cured. I have 110 symptoms of pastric trouble or indigestion now " If you ask your dealer for "Golden Medical Discovery" because you have confidence in its cures, do not allow yourself to be switched off to a medicine claimed to be "just as good," but which you did not ask for and of which you know nothing. You can get the People's Common Sense Medical Adviser, 1008 pages, pa per coverfi, free by sending 21 one-cent stamps, to pay expense of mailing only. Address Dr. R. V. Pierce, Buffalo, N. Y. SCIENCE SIFTINGS. While volcanic eruptions are usually restricted in area, earthquakes are not. If all the mountains in the world were leveled, the nverage height of the land would rise nearly '.150 feet. The face of Jupiter presents a con siderable number of markings, notably one great scarlet patch covering nearly 400,000 square miles. The amount of heat produced by an average man In a day's work would bo sufficient to raise sixty-three pounds of water from freezing to boiling point. Cirrus clouds were once observed at | a height of 43,800 feet. This is by far the greatest height at which cloud ' vapor has ever been noted above the ! surface of the earth. Experiments made while in a balloon ! | show that when a height of 15,000 feet has been reached the number ot j corpuscles in the human blood have in creased by one-tliird. j The atmospheric pressure upon the 1 surface of an ordinary man is «2.4u0 pounds, or over fourteen and a half j tons. The ordinary rise and fall of the barometer increases or decreases this pressure by 2,.~U0 pounds. Sick Headache ? Food doesn't digest well? Appetite poor? Bowels constipated? Tongue coated? It's your liver! Ayer's Pills are liver pills; they cure dys pepsia, biliousness. 25c. AM dflgglfts. | «»r Ward a beaMiful I I teoi nor rich black? rhen um ( BUCKINGHAM'S DYE Whiskers j CURING A BALKY HORSE. fitiiiple Method* May lie Kiiiplo.ved Without t sing tlif Whip. An expert states that the vice of balking in horses is almost invariably j caused by improper breaking and han j dling of the animal while young, says the Chicago Chronicle. It is only high strung and ill tem pered horses that balk, and these are handled with more success by humor ing and patience than by severe meas ures, twdi generally make matters worse, it rr-s almost impossible to fol low rules in a ease of this sort. What will succeed in one case is useless in another, so that a driver Jhust exer cise good judgment—"horse sense"—in handling a case. A very gool treatment is to watch the animal closely in places where it would be likely to balk, and with the lirst sign of stopping the driver should say "Whoa," then get off and loosen or pretend to change the harness in some way; also take up a foot and tap the shoe with a stone. Spend a few moments leisurely in this way, and in nine eases out of ten the animal will forget its inclination to balk and will go 011 at the first bidding. It is also well to give a lump of sugar or a handful of oats or an apple. This will always produce better results than se vere measures. A Safe Age. The insuring of or.e's life is one of tli'se things which one is most apt to put off There are few. however, who postpone whit ought to be the inevita ble until so late a period ill life as did lb • tough old smack owner of Grimsby. When he presented himself at the in surance office, he was naturally asked his age. His reply was. "Ninety-four." "Why, my good man, we- cannot in sure you." said the company. "Why not?" he demanded. "Why, you are ninety-four years of age." "What of : that V"the old man cried. "Look at statistics, and they will tell you that fewer men die at ninety-four than at any other age."—London Business Il lustrated. Nasal CATARRH In nil its stages tliere | should l.e cleanliness. Ely's Cream Halm j cleanses,soothe? and lu rils M J * jf mv.iy a cold in the head unickly. ('renin Halm is placed Into the nostrils, sprcr.ds over the membrane and is absorbed. Ilelief is im mediate and a cure follows. It is not drying—does not produce sneezing. Large S.-.e, 50 cents at Drug gists or by mail; Trial Si/-. 10 cents by mail. i;i.y IJItOTUEUS, Warren Street, New York. fitoOKfc X". ...I \ t CfßSSflfti 18, COUgI»S 8Ml( Than By All CK'.er Throat And I urg Rj toi ics Couibirjed. This wonderful m iictr.e jJbsitivetf cures Consumption Cougns, Gold#, Bronchitis, Asthma, Pneumonia, Hay Fewer, Pleurisy, LaGrippe, Hoarseness, Sore Throat, Croup and Whooping Cough. WOCUWE. KOFAY. Price 50c. S: sl. Trial Bottle Free. ft L & , TIM , TABLE, Corrected to May i, 1901. »w , K Bar. i,v M I , . i I(■1 i > 11»| !.. r s . H0i...!, SerilllUlll \i (• >« rarili r, \r • i< • -\ I \ s ' IIA »T' K '• I > 111 I 1 , licllevu- . 1. -It T»J lorritH .. 885 WII »Y I La". ..v 7 1,:. - [ I )u ryes... Pitt-m0... Sll.-.jUi'il ll i \ 1 WCH 1*1!t . . • -i i 2 Wyoming.... I ' . _ Forty Fen Hen nest I-1 In i" 2 ..i Kingston ir. 7 o .1 2 4 W ilk< , Harre.,.. Ar 71" II In 2 si Wllke* Kim l.ve 7 _il 1 - i> 11 Klnuston r. 7 |i ,1 j j,, Plymouth .1 nee ... . Plymouth 7 - 11 1 _; 4 , Avomlale 7 12 a , Nanticoke 7I > 11 it •. Hnnhck v 7 11 17 u, 1 Sl.u n-I.ln ly v "I 11 .j an 112 lii< k's I r> I- 111 I Bench I ;ivcn I" IM» » ;i --lierv, ck * - IJ >1 344 i Briar Creek 112 " Willow Grove BM . 112 .: 51 I,line 1. Lite " 1 fl2 1;• .» K*ry J, ! I ■ 4OH Hl<i 'tnaburg .... H ■ ! 12 22 41/ P.upert *' 12 27 417 Cataw;-ca • j 4 lisrvllle li it 4 , Chulasky t ij 'imcroii . 12 i? 4in NrITHI>IIKBLAKD ' I J" 61m Ar. AM I'Sl PM 90HW SAS?. r • * >KW > lit , , C Htreitt st. -\r is l :iu Christopher St . :I . I£ " HotM/bon in 11 44* . I \M* \M* I 12 .Y> I'M AM- AM" Buffalo \ r | * llu IJ 45 7> 0 Scrantou I.\ I V* ."> 4* II :2V MP 112 112 1 I'M* Scr.mton .. 12 3i 4 '.o » !•"> Bellevue • 4 46 Tsj lorville •• :>2 4 ««► I Lackawanna . 20 4 XI * 27 Duryea . il'£'• 4iv »25 Plttaton . Si 111 "j 17 4 .'4 *2l Susijueh ■ » '.I M> la 14 4 211 H |-> West Pitt .. I- 417 x 111 Wyom !• i-'.i 12 I.x 412 *Vt Fort VI ......... |! 1 4 117 lieu u ... 9(1 403 "> 111 K "' l> * £ * lir.lt 4 'HI »02 Wil .. - -|;' im ,. L« *•" n •'« 3W 750 H .• s-l!arr« \r 1-1" ♦ K K • ton H II l' IW *OS ymoutfa .lunft;«in s '' 3 lymonth B<7 11 61 I(7 t H Avondaie 3 41 Nanticoke s -* I' * ■ 338 7 ; Hunlock s h 831 f7 II 1 Slilckshinny s 11 «"» 3»> 7HI 1 Hiek> Ferry s 3 irti r7 21 Hf." - h Haven ? '. r r 3•' '• »I- Hcrwi?k " ' 11 1 > fi 08 7 , IlriarCreek " fi >1 f'< * Willow t;rovp 'I 41 K *••••• I<ime lililife .' 2 " . - r '' j Efj.y 7 H jo 4> 'I 10 • D 1 Hlooaibnrg L 7' 10 |« - «■» 11 1 Hubert i ' 10 37 *» t;atawlßßa ' 1 - 10 34 "»* '' «7 I'anville *' , ' s 10 1!' 21l •I t'hulisky •••,"■ I Cameron '■ I J ll ! NtißTHCsnmti/n., '' ' iiVoi M "0 *■"' :A) A A.M. J* j * i Connections at Rupert with Phllsalelpbla h Keailiric Kailroa<l for Tamanend, Tamaqas, Williamson, Muntmrv. Potlsvllle. etc At Northumhcrlan'i ivitli H ac-l E. I»iv. p. K. K. for HarrisbnrK. Lock Haven, Kmiorinm. Warr'n : Corry. ami Erie. ! Daily. + I tally except unday. f»i signal. PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD. TIME TABLE 111 Effect May, 25, 1902. I A.M. S<-ranton(l>&H)iv ; v3B 112 427 | I'ittfton " '• 7"j 112 i oo§2 1(i 4 52;""" A.M. rt.M P.M. H. "VI Wilkefbarre,.. Ivs 7 2? .10 :ir, 2 )'• ih< Plym'th Kerry "17:' lin 42 I 2 ■'>- i 6 "7 Nanticoke •' 7 10 ,vj 301 « Mocananua ...." C >1 11 fC 3 'Jo 837 Wapwsllopen.. " - 10 11 IK 3.1 647 Nejcopeck ar 'IN 11 20 342 T0" ])"" A.:u A.M. P.M. i'ottsviile...... lv ,1 .j sll ■>> Hasleton i y 1J '■*- ■- l"' ****** Tomhicken " 1 11 ! (*"> "" Fern (lien " I IS •'! I > '"* Hock Ulen .... "1 8 £Ji***... INescopeck . ar Ili *] ( litaw i—a 4 0" ATM A 37 P.M. P M Nescopeck... . Iv J « is ,-;i 2> 4J 7 ui Creasv •• s;i 11 3 .2 7 (i!» " Espy Ferry... •• I 8 4: II 4: f4 02 73» E. liloomshurk " 8 4 II .Vi 4 l»i 7 !!•' Catawissa Iv 8 b 11.,".7 4 l : 732 South Danville •• !1412 1 431 7 Mi! Sunbury ar \> 3- 12 !'■ 1 -"1 sls A. M. I'. M. P. M p.M. ~ - KakM} Iv !> 4Z ;1- W}s 1" :i 40 Kewlalturg.... ar 10 I : I 4"> >4n Mlltoa •• ktW lan 5SWwn Williamfport.. " 110' 111 •> 311 10 .V, Lock Haven... " II »:• 22" 7 ,1 ! Kcnovo " A.M. '0 > Kane " 8 2"> ! P.M. P.M. I.ock Haven..l\ ;12 10 :! i,"i lie lie ft into ....ar In, 111 ...... \ T\ nine " SSB ••• I PtaUlnrtmrg •• 16, * 02 | Clearfield.... '* 5 -'"1 > * 4"> I PltUhurg.... " li ;Vi 10 45 A.M. P. M P. M. P M Sunbury Iv 9io : 1 '' "> 2 <3l ImMm ar 11 3»- so li n ,"*1 :o 10 ...... j H. M. K. M. M. \ M i'liilailelphia.. ar 53 IT 823 10 20 42> Haltiinore •• S:i 11 fl '0 4> 230 Washington... '• si 4 M 7 15 ',O it IC| 1 A?M* P. M. sunhury Iv 510 no $ 2 I I Jc. Jc. ar II I i 05 PittßburK " ti Slo l.i _ A.M. P. M P. M. P M llarrlsburif.... Iv II 45 i (>' 715 102> P. M. A M. A. V A M i-ittshurg ar »> V» il 15n Ijo :> :mi . P. M.i P M A M A M Pitt.-burn Iv : I" 00 :i toWts 00 lA. M A M P M n«iiW|,...id IN 42' •» »* AM A M PM (.ewistown '• 7 3 n Sunbury ar #S' I 50 P. M. A N A M A M Wa>hiiiKti>n... Iv 10 4>-' 7 - 10 "m Baltimore " 11 00 4 10 t« 40 114.". Pfeilsdslptaia... u 112" 4 - J' 1140 A. M A M A. M. P M HarriM'Urif.... Iv :: 3."> 7 ,V> II 40 J" Sunhury SI >OO »- 1 1o» 0 M P.M. A M \ M I'ittsloirg 1\ Jl2 45 5 •« l s 0" .... Clearfield.... " :V 1 »2H ' PlillipMburg.. " 14i I" 12 rone •' 700 8I" ® liellefonte.. " *l< 032 I ' ... Lock Haven ar oli H>:» 2 1®C.... P. M. A M A M 1" M • Erie Iv ."> . Kane ....." - l" '■ "0 Kcnovo '• 11 • '■ 4 ■ in so l.cok llaven ... ' 12 > 7 i 11 300 "' A.M. P M WilllaiUHport" 2'--' 830 12 »«' 4'" Milton •• J2. :• i: 12. *«!*..... Ecwlflmrg " » 0 11 4 4.' Sunbury ar :> 24 tf «■ 1 5-. 51> A. M. AMI' M P MI" Sunbury Iv ; tf Is| | 9 96 \ 2 •»> t 5 2>i South fisnville" 7 i 0 17 Jl Catswlssa " 7 . 10 36 . • «o- F HliKimstiurg.." 7 7 10 43 2 i : 6 1 ' Espy Ferry " 742 II' 1 47 16!' t'reafy w 7 2 l' l s f ' ' *■ , ' Nescopeck " he 2 li o . 0". fl 40 AM A M l\ M. P M ('atawiHsa Iv 7 It' > '• 08 Nescnpeck IV S2" I 5 06 70 > • Kock <llen ar II 2 7 2> Fern 1 Hen ••*■ll 7. 1 " Tiimhieken " • 1 - T4: Hazleton " •» 1 II ■" 806 '^]] Pottsvllle '• 1 AMAM P M P M Nescopeck 1\ H l"2 11 ';• «. 610 ■■••• Wapwalli'pen. ar !» V 11 9 S 01 Miieanauua " 8 ,1 II 32 701 ••• Nanticoke " t> . • 11 64 7 PI Plrm'tb Ferry I »0 . 12 ot • IT > wilksliarre . .. " i» !• 12 1 4®. 7 ■ AMPMP M P >1 Ptttaton MH|S( IN ISM 4 M 838 -<eranton " " 10 os 121 i2l ty oi* Weekday*. Daily. 112 I'lau station. Pullman Parlor aril Meeplns I'ars run on through trains between Surbury. Willlasis|iort anil Erie, between Sunlmry »o2 Philaiielphis ami Washington an.l between llarri«i»u.':' Pitts burir an.l the West. I'or further information apply t.. Ticket Agents i n. m rcjiiMsoy, j. u. wood, (ien'l .l/o uiiijer. (itu'l /V»M'«'r A;/ Shoes Shoos 3t3riisn I Crieap ! ISella ole t Bicycle, Cymnasium and Tennis Shoes. THE CELEBRATED Carlisle Slhm^s ANI> THE Siisijj; Proof liulilipi* Uools A SPECIALTY. A. SCHATZ. IN SEW I A Reliable | TIN SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing Spoutlne and Conoral Job Work. Stoves, Heaters, IVan«o« ( Furnaces, sto. PRICES THE LOWEST! QIiLITY THE BEST! JOHN HIXSON NO. 116 E. FRONT ST. m :" We will have a full line of HOLIDAY GOODS! —CONSISTING OF Books, Stationery, Leather Goods, Fancy Baskets, Gold Pens, Fountain Pens, Sterling Silver Novelties and many other novelties at Lowest Cash Prices. A.HTGRONE, 112 MILL ST. PHILADELPHIA and READING RAILWAY IN EFFE4T NoVF.MBKN HSth. WW. TRAINS I.E.WE DANVII.I.E For PbiladelpbiH I|.Q a. m. l-'or New York 112,'. a. m. I'or »'atswi«*a lp2i a. m.and ri-HC. m. For Hlooxii*burg 11 S) a m. K«,r Milton 83U1 a. 111. and l:Wp.a. For Wllliam«port *«1 a. ■».. and 4 00 p. m Tram- for Haiti no >re. Wa«litoat*»n. tb. s,iilh and We»t via B. A 1•. I£. K. leave RriHlii« Terminal. Philadelphia at 7:55 l|:»i a »» . 1;N, 7.X p. 11l Sundays 3:20 s. m.. 7ii. II •>, : "i»>. 727 p. m. Addltlomu trains front 24i and Clieotnut street «tation. «.»* ila»«. I i:41,8:21p. m.. Sunday I 8 jrs p. n> TH MNs FOR I>AN V11.1.K. I.eave I'biladelphia !■> 21 a. m Leave I.eave Milton It '*• a m., 5:20 p. in. Leave Hloomsburu 7:10 am , 'i:'*l (k. m. Leave t'ataw i«»a 7: IS a. m.. • »< p. in Daily 's Sunday*, "f* ffiiMsji " c saturdav via -Mibway. "h MHIIII St. 4 '«l "o -outh St. 1.l . •« South St •>:»! •a South >t 130 •il x»uth sr w. -4 ILOOexenraioßs. I'etaiUii lime table* at tieket Ofll<'. < INtta at:ili be«tnutst» >.;4 «'h4-»tnnt-~t . k»t»«'h«*t rut St . «iW Sooth l-i St.. »C Market S- an-i HI alio OK. I'nlon Transfer company will rail for and cheek baggage from hotel* and muden.-t * PEQG The Ccal Dealer SELLS WOOD —AND— COAL —AT -344 Ferry Street
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers