The Double Cross ¥ By A. E. THOMAS Copyright, By Dodd, Mead and Company, Inc. W. N. U. Service THE STORY Jim Stanley, wealthy young New York business man, unable to concentrate in his dictation to his desk audiphone, has the ma- chine taken to his home, intend- ing to finish his work there. Rol- lin Waterman, his business part- ner and closest friend, comes in. Both men are avowedly in love with Doris Colby. Stanley pro- poses they toss a coin to deter- mine which of them shall, that evening, first ask her to marry him, Waterman wins. Nina Mor- gan, Waterman's secretary, also his mistress, has overheard his conversation with Stanley and resents Waterman's plan to de- sert her. Waterman tells her he is practically penniless and must make a rich marriage. He urges Nina to go to Doris and tell her she (Nina) has been wronged— but by Stanley. The girl con- sents. Doris admits to her fa- ther her interest in both Stanley and Waterman, but is unable to make up her mind which to marry. Nina goes to Doris with her story, securing a promise that Doris will not reveal the source of her information, She convinces Doris of Stanley's duplicity, and leaves her broken hearted, and realizing that it is Stanley she really has loved CHAPTER V—Continued elfen It would not be tair to say that Wa- terman had no compunctions regard ing his treatment of Jim Stanley. He had been deceiving "im for a long time. Stanley, for example, had no idea that Waterman had been playing the market “on his own,” a thing ex- plicitly forbidden to each of them when the partnership was formed. Waterman, having begun a course of dissimulation in this matter, was obliged, or so he thought to keep ft up. And as little lies lead to bigger ones, and small disloyalties beget great treasons, so now the tide of deceit on which Waterman had long ago em- barked had finally brought him to this crest of treachery. Five years ago he would have been appalled at the mere suggestion of it. Yet, such is the effect of slow but cumulative moral degeneration that now it merely made him uneasy. And uneasy, increasingly so, he now became as he left the club and turned northward. Nor was this uneasiness at all allayed by his brief colloquy with Nina outside the Colby house. Even after he had been alone with Doris in the Colby drawing-room a quarter of an hour, he still had not the slightest notion as to what had passed between the two women. He had found Doris strange, cold, aloof. He had come there to ask *her to marry him, but the moment seemed hardly propitious, despite his agree- ment with Stanley. Somehow, his suspense must be ended—and quickly Time was passing—in fifteen minutes more Jim Stanley would be at the door. He must know, and he must know at once. And so he made a plunge. After a long silence, he said abruptly. “Doris, what’s the matter with yon?" Somewhat to his surprise she did not fence. “1 have just heard the most painful thing in the world,” she said. “Now for it!” he thought, and aloud he said, squaring his shoulders to meet the blow, “About whom?” “About Jim.” The relief that he felt was over- whelming. Guiltily he felt that she must be conscious of it, but almost simultaneously he saw that she was not thinking of him at all, and in- wardly he gave three cheers. “About Jim?” he said. “A certain person has just been here and told me an awful thing about him.” “What?” “1 cannot tell you. [I gave my word of honor.” “Surely you don’t believe it?” “I'm afraid 1 do.” “Was this talebearer some one you know 2” “No, it was some one | never saw or heard of before.” Instinctively Waterman hit upon the sound course to follow, “But surely, Doris, you don’t mean to say that you believe this scandalous tale told by an atter stranger, and about one of your very best friends?’ She feebly shrugged her shoulders. “But,” he went on, “you can’t do it! At least you must give Jim a chance to explain—to defend himself” “Impossible—] gave my word of honor—"" “Before you heard it?” “Vos? ‘Why on earth did you do that?” “Because 1 took it so lightly. 1 couldn’t imagine that it could possibly be anything of the slightest <onse “mence.” “And ft is?” [Lg “Yes, it is. It Is a thing that no one but a man with a cruel, cruel heart could do. Oh, he might in the first place have done it upon impulse That 1 could forgive. But, after that nothing but cold, cold cruelty could explain it.” “And you can’t tell me what it Is? “No, I can’t tell anyone—I've prom ised.” “But 1 cannot understand,” sald Waterman, warmly, his confidence ris ing with the overwnelmingly welcome knowledge that he himself was not in danger. “1 cannot understand. [It seems to me that if anybody, | don’t care who he was, came to me with a scandalous story about old Jim, | should refuse to credit it until Jim had had a chance to defend himself— especially if, as you say, his accuser was a person whom I did not know at all.” “l can’t go Into it,” said the girl sadly and abruptly, “but 1 am certain that if you had heard the story as | heard it, you would have to believe it too, no matter how much it hurt you.” “1 don’t believe it, whatever it is, Why, we've known Jim all our lives —he’s one of the very best.” “So [I've always thought,” she sighed, “until tonight.” “But not any more?” “Not any more.” Suddenly she put out her hand to him appealingly like a frightened child. “Oh, Rolly, Rolly,” she said, “I’ve lost my friend. He's gone. [I've lost him. And it hurts.” Swiftly he was at her side. His time was come. He took the cold little hand in both of his own, and drew it to his breast. “Doris, dear,” he said, “let me help you.” “You can’t. You can’t.” “1 do so want to help you, because— you see—I love you.” The long lashes rose above the violet eyes, and then they flickered and fell again. Quietly he drew her to her feet, and with a little sob she slipped into his arms. “Dearest,” he murmured, “don’t cry—please don’t cry.” “But she only murmured brokenly, “I've lost my friend—I've lost him.” “Yes, yes, | know. But | must try and make it up to you if | can.” And thus it happened. Desperately she needed comfort and—the comfort- er was there. A moment later she freed herself swiftly from his arms. “Good heavens,” she said, “lI had quite forgotten. He's coming here this very night. 1 can’t see him—I| can’t. I must tell Barker to send him away Please ring the bell—hurry, hurry!” But Waterman had anticipated this amergency. “On the contrary,” he said promptly, “I think it best that you should see him.” “What now? Oh, 1 couldnt, |} couldn't!” “Yes, now, darling. Think a mo- ment—think. You have lost your friend, you say.” “Yes,” she said, “and so have you.” “Yes, we've both lost him, haven't we? And yet we cannot tell him so. How do you propose to treat him?” “Oh,” she said, “I haven't thought— there hasn't been time.” “Well, 1 suggest that my idea is this, You cannot tell him you are no longer his friend without telling him why, and you can’t do that. You must let him find it out by degrees, and | think the easiest way to start will be by tell- ing him at once that you are going to marry me.” The violet eyes widened abruptly. In truth, the girl was startled. In a moment of keen suffering she had, it was true, gone to the arms of the com- forting Waterman. She had lain there some moments. He had caressed her —she had allowed it. Yet it was not antil this instant that she realized fully what this had meant to him. All this he saw in the moment of silence that followed his last remark. His fate was in the balance. He knew it. “Dearest,” he breathed. At length she turned away. “All right,” she said, “as you wish.” His heart leaped up—he had won! He was safe. Now to clinch it. “Oh, I am sure I am right, darling,” he hur- ried on. “It will be hard to do, but there’s one thing about it, once done it will be over and swiftly over. Since you cannot tell him what you know about him and yet you must believe ft, you can’t go on seeing him day by day, pretending you are still his friend. No one could do it. So let him know that you're engaged to me. If I am not mistaken, that of itself will be a bit of a blow to him.” She sighed as she dabbed at ner eyes with her handkerchief. “I sup- pose you're right,” she admitted. “Since it must be, the sooner the better.” “I'm sure of it.” At this moment Stanley entered the room, unannounced, since Barker knew quite well that his mistress was always at home to him. He paused upon the threshold just an Instant Nobody spoke. He feared the worst. but he crossed the room briskly, took the girl’s unresisting hand, and sald. “Well, my dear Doris, and how are youn tonight?” “I'm very well,” she said faintly, without looking at him. “Good,” said he. “Hello, Rolly.” “Hello, Jim.” “I haven't seen you In a long time not for four or five hours. Very sel dom happens like that. Well, Doris, what’s the news?” “No news,” she said faintly. “I've got to contradict you, Doris,” interrupted Waterman. “There is news, the best news [I've had in a long long time or ever shall.” Stanley’s heart saunk—his prophetic soul was right, He knew it before Waterman continued: “It’s delightful that yon should have happened in as you did, for | am sure that Doris feels as | do when | sav that it makes me quite happy that you gagement.” Jim managed to force a smile, “Splendid,” he cried, “splendid! My two very best friends! Doris, my dear friend. my very best wishes—the very hest wishes that you could imagine, and then add to those about a thou- sand more still better ones. And as for you, Rolly, you know perfectly well that 1 consider you the luckiest man in the wide, wide world.” “Thanks,” said Waterman, “1 knew I could rely upon you.” “How soon is it to be?” “We haven't got as far as that,” smiled Waterman. “In point of fact it's only just happened.” Jim paused perhaps a second and a half. Within that brief time he made a decision. He suffered—intolerably— with an acuteness of which he had never dreamed. He had apn uncon trollable impulse to get away—far, far away, with the swiftness of light. If he could only wish himself at the end of the world, and be there with the wish! “Well, well,” he said, “this is de lightful! It will make me especially happy as | go away.” “Away?” queried Waterman, “Yes, I know, | haven't told you, but for a long time | have had a plan in the back of my head. As you know, | have been one of the backers of a series of archeological explorations that the museum has been carrying on “Dearest,” He Murmured, “Don’t Cry —Please Don’t Cry.” in the interior of Thibet. Nesbitt is starting this week to join the party now in the field, and I'm going with him.” Doris felt that the time had come when she must say something, so she asked: “How long shall you be gone?” “I've no idea—one year, two years, maybe five. And so | fear that | shall not be present at your wedding 3ut 1 plan to have a part in it, none the less. And as your wedding gift from me, my dear fellow, | presen: you with all my interest, right, title and all that kind of thing, in the busi- ness now managed under the style of ‘Stanley and Waterman.’ ” “My dear Jim!” “Now don’t say no. I’m through with it. I'm sick of the Street. [I've had six years of it and I'm tired of the game. You enjoy it. You're good at it. I'm afraid at times the limitations I've imposed upon you have irked you a little. I'm afraid I've been a bit of a drag.” “Not at all,” murmured Waterman politely “Oh, yes, | have seen that there were many times when you were irri- tated by my ultra-conservatism. But now all that is passed. The business is yours—lock, stock, and barrel.” “But I say, this is mighty sweet ot you!” “Not at all. An event ot this tm- portance, an alliance between my two best friends, requires to be comme:mo- rated by something more substantial should be the first to hear of our en- THE PATTON COURIER toan the presentation of a pie-knfre or a mantel clock. There, there—say no more about it, Now I must be off Good night, Doris.” He took her hand again. “I'll see you again before | go, but again let me say how charmed I am, Next to being happy one’s self the most delightful thing in the world IS to be assured of the happiness ot the two people in that world one loves the most.” “But, my dear Jim, | can't thank you enough—such a princely present!” objected Waterman. “Nonsense. Why here you are. my two old friends, going to he married— I'd like to do something nice for you —and, well, this is it—that’s all. And you know perfectly well | can afford it. [ ask only one thing of you in re- turn.” “Whatever it is, it's yours,” smiled Waterman. “In the first place, be happy, but much more than that, make her happy because you see that’s about the d—dest most important thing in the world.” “You—you’ll write, perhaps,” asked Doris, feebly. “Oh, now and then, maybe, and when 1 come back, Rollin,” he added with a smile, “you shall render me an accounting of your stewardship. Good- night, Doris, dear. Good-night, Rollin. old boy.” He gripped both their hands again. As he reached the door he turned once more and beamed upon them. “You two dear people,” he said. | “l love you both and always shall!” With that he was gone. Waterman turned toward the girl. “Rollin, oh, Rollin, Rollin,” she whis- pered brokenly, as she slipped again into his arms. “I can’t believe it. ' can’t believe it.” - . . * . . . uncomfortably Stanley plunged down the steps as the heavy door ¢losed behind him, and hurried blindly across the Avenue There was tumult in his brain. He | had not expected defeat. Not that he nourished any overweening estimate of his personal attractions, or that he re- garded them as in any way superior to those of his friend. Opn the con- trary, in his eyes Waterman was quite the best looking man of his acquaint- ance, the most winning and the most agreeable. Yet Doris had always been to him everything that was kind and sympathetic and uanderstanding. He had never, it is true, made love to her directly, yet she must have known, he thought, what he thought of her, and being uncommonly intelligent. she must have guessed that before very long he would ask her to be his wife. He had no suspicion whatever of the truth. 3y no conceivable means could he possibly have guessed the devious route by which Waterman's success had beep achieved. He coulo not know the sudden shock to which | the girl's whole nature had been sub jected, nor how much she suffered at the conviction of his turpitude. He could not know that Doris in her suf fering had unconsciously, blindly, put out her hand, yearning for comfort, | and had taker. almost without know- ing it, the only comfort that offered itself. No suspicion of all this crossed or | could cross the mind of the stricken | Stanley. His nature was of the sim plest and most direct. Life had been too easy for him. Everything had been | plain sailing. This was the first great shock of his life and it shook him to | the core of his soul. Resolutely, consciously, he endeav ored to put the past behind him. He would burp all his bridges, sink all | his boats. Yes, that was the thing Immediately he burned with the wish to be gone. He waved his hand at a | passing taxi whose driver pulled up so sharply that his rear wheels skidded | slightly against the curb. Ten min utes later, in his own apartment, he was telephoning: “Is that you, Wilson?—Yes, yes, I'm lucky to find you ip on a Saturday night. Something come up. [I've got to make many plans of importance with a good deal of speed. Were you planning to leave town over Sunday? No?—You're quite sure? Good, then | shall ask you for once to give up your day of rest and meet me at the office in the morning at eleven o'clock. All right. Good-by.” (TO BE CONTINUED.) Ancient Ceremony of Blessing the Waters The blessing of the waters is a quaint ceremony to be seen in coun- tries where the Greek church exists. It occurs during the first winter sea- son and is attended with great demon: strations and rejoicings. Extensive preparations are made the day before the ceremony. A route is set apart leading from the church to the spot on the quay that has been selected for the ceremony, a carpet of straw being laid down. In general, the day of the ceremony is a bitterly cold one, but this circumstance does not deter the populace from attend ing en masse. They arrive on foot and in sledges and are attired in na- tional dress. All horses are gayly caparisoned with worsted favors and tassels and motor cars are similarly decked out. On the quay a layman is actively en Traveling Book Few traveling-books are better than a good anthology of poetry in which every page contains something com plete and perfect in itself. The brief respites from labor which the self immolated tourist allows himselt can not be more delightfully filled than with the reading of poetry, which may even be got by heart.— Aldous Huxley, in “Along the Road.” gaged in stirring a barrel of water to keep it from freezing. At ten o'clock, heralded by the blare of many brass instruments, the priests leave the church, preceded by a troop of cav- alry. With them are borne numbers of religious emblems and banners. The priests chant as they march to the quay, where they go through the spe- cial form of blessing the waters of the | country. Water so blessed is then distributed among the people and each recipient | treasures the few drops that fall to his share, Twin Coincidence Mary and Jane, sisters, were mar- ried June 12, 1924, to John and Bill, brothers. On Christmas day, December 25, | 1927, twins, a boy and a girl, were born to Mary and John. On the same day twins, a boy and a girl, were born to Jane and Bill The baby boys weighed identically the same, T'% pounds. each weighing more than his baby sister, while the weight of the girls differed % pound —Capper's Weekly. Airy Fancy We suppose aviators’ wives semich their Wusbands’ air pockets.—Ladies Home Journal, unexpected has | Home Always Most Potent Force in the Forma- tion of Character By DR. THOMAS ARKLE CLARK, University of Illinois. OUNG people of today are better trained, more independent and more self-reliant than those of forty years ago. They are so radically different because in the home they have been given more privileges. They have more freedom, more luxuries. They work best and spend more. They are, therefore, more selfish, more independent, less respectful and less polite. Too, they are more frank. , They pull down the shades on nothing. I do not overlook the effects of environment, but an experience of many years with tens of thousands of young men and women has brought me to the conclusion that young people are tremendously like their parents. Whatever traits we find in young people, if we look closely enough, we shall find them in their immediate ancestors. If the young people are so different it is because of the economic and scientific changes in the home. Nobody is at home any more. Father and mother are riding, at the movies or their clubs. The children like- wise, Companions, the church, the schools and the home influence our characters. But the most potent of all these is the home. Courtesy, ideals, truth, honesty—all these have their foundation in the home. We learn by precept and example. Every parent should remember this, because a child’s character is pretty completely determined by the age of fifteen. In Increasing Numbers, Young People Today | Are Turning to Religion By REV. WILLLIAM T. MANNING, New York Episcopal Bishop. The world is coming back to truer standards. After all, these stand | ards are not mere matters of convention—the Ten Commandments are | the divine laws of life upon which the happiness, the progress and the welfare of our race depend. People are turning to religion again. ticularly with young people. They are seeing the absurdity of a conflict between religion and science. Life has no meaning without religion. As a concrete fact, I may say that since our diocesan convention in May, in a period of only five weeks, 16 young men, most of them froin New York and almost all of them of a high qualification and promise. have come to me to offer themselves for the work of the ministry. Then, too, great churches are being built. We are building the greatest cathedral in the whole of the English-speaking world. It is a strikiny thing that the city of New York sometimes mistakingly regarded as car ing only for material things, is erecting one of the greatest buildings in Churches are crowded, par the world to serve no utilitarian purpose, but to stand solely for things o! the spirit. Toilers of Today Co-Workers With Employers | in Industrial Production By BENITO MUSSOLINI, Premier of Italy. Under the Fascist system employers are co-workers with the pro ducers, whose scale of living should be raised materially and morally, ac cording to favorable moments and possibilities. In time of a crisis the workmen must accept a wage reduction, but once the crisis is overcome it is to the interest of the employer to augment wages, restoring balance in the situation. Henry Ford's policy of high salaries is impossible in Ttaly, for man) obvious reasons, and a policy of low salaries is just as inadvisable—th latter by reducing the buying power of vast masses ends by damaging in dustry itself. | It is to be forecast that peace will not be disturbed by the grea: Western nations, which are those giving directives to world civilization | After political peace will come social peace. We are witnessing the eclipse of class struggles. After the last strike of the British miners Europe's laboring classes entered into periods of stasis. Young Americans Making Mistake in Deserting the Farm for the City By JAMES J. DAVIS, Secretary of Labor. The day is passing when the American farmer is being referred t. in the slighting manner of yesterday—an attitude on the part of the pub lie, which has been responsible mainly for hundreds of thousands o: young Americans deserting the farms of their fathers, because the: could not bear to be called “hayseeds.” Science has come to the aid of the farmer as it has come to fhe ai of every class in our community and science is transforming the farme as it is now transforming the members of ever other occupation. If my advice were sought, I should advise every boy and girl born o a well-developed farm to remain thereon, unless he or she felt to a marke: degree that their vocation lay distinctly elsewhere. There can be as muci happiness on a farm in these Twentieth century years as exists within ou cities. Even our city dwellers are beginning to cast a longing glance ar the great open spaces, and they are manifesting a desire to get beyond th mist and heat of our urban streets. # Modern Girl Leading the Women of the World Into Emancipation By MRS. NATHAN WOOD, Boston Baptist Church Worker. God has given us this modern girl whom you sometimes look askanc: at and yet to whom you must look for the salvation of the world. I be lieve she has come into the kingdom for such a day of need as this. Sh is fully developed intellectually and what would we do in the churc! without her? These modern girls are trained to think for themselves Sometimes we say they think too much for themselves, but they are th only girls we send to the Orient today, for they are thinking for them selves in the Orient also. You say the modern girl is unconventional. Yes, just a bit. Per | haps there are among the modern girls some who wear their skirts just | bit too short, but it is these girls who are going out into the Orient { | lead the Turkish woman out of her harem and the Mohammedan wom: out of her filth and unhappy married conditions. It is these modern gir! | who are leading the women of the werld into emancipation. i | PEXEL makes jelly cost less and ‘it always ‘comes out like this he never like this PEXEL makes jelly cost less per glass. Cuts boiling time to one minute. Saves your time and fuel. You get more jelly be- cause fruit juice, sugar and flavor are not boiled off. Pexel repays from one to three times the 30c it costs. Pexel is different. It is = powder, not a liquid. Color- less, tasteless, odorless. Itis a 100% pure-fruic product. Makes jelly jell as soon as it is cold. Equally effective with fresh fruits, bottled juice, or unsweetened canned fruits, Get Pexel at your grocer’s. Complete recipe booklet with accurate tables in each pack- age. 30c. The Pexel Company, Chicago, Ill. ¥ For example—with Pexel 4Y2 cups strawberry juice and 8 cups sugar make 11 glasses jelly. 4Y2 cups raspberry juice and 8 cups sugar make 11 glasses jelly. 6 cups currant juice, 10 cups sugar make 14 glasses of jelly. 4Y2 cups grape juice and 7 cups sugar make 10 glasses jelly. Write for our Special Prices to Churches, School Boards and Farmers. Blymyer Bells excel in purity of tone, volume of sound, carrying power and durability. Illustrated Catalog FREE. The JOHN B. MORRIS FOUNDRY Co. Proprietors Cincinnati Bell Foundry Dept. 201 Cincinnati, Ohio Cr MEDITERRANEAN Cruise 8 8 “Transylvania sailing Jan. 30 Clark’s 25th cruise, 66 days, including Madeira, Canary Islands, Cas: a, Rabat, Capital of Morocco, Spain, Alg Malta, Athens, Con- stantinople, 15 days Palestine and Egypt, Italy Includes hotels, guides, motors, ete. Norway-Mediterranean Cruise, July 2, 1929; $600 up FRANK C. CLARK, Times Bldg, N.Y. BRIGHTON IN SOUTHERN FLORIDA y general farming t, health LIAM D Ohio VIL unnecessary Women—Sell Hosetex; y rin we start you; new silk hose Write f m Products Co., 16 Park Row, 1 Suite 1 TIME He had been hopelessly, he time. Then, on sitting together at him, and mu “Claude, didn’ would be willing roism for my s: “Yes, Cora, said,” he declare “Well, Claude something reall) “Speak, darlin “Ask me to be you did, don’t ; DOING She—What's now? He was tr ment job awhile He—He's doin Air Building cast Foolish spc Now and the Modest bun Most After dinner t writer and his wireless. A brand-new s the guest liked i “That's a Zot marked, “Good?” said t should think it is it myself 12 diffe No Re: She had just her partner at a ing to him viva “Tell me,” she terribly homely n Her partner lo “That,” he said brother.” “Oh!” gasped f fied amazement. ly, I hadn’t notici Toc “What's worryi YT want a ob party.” “She’ll be hard DULL | “Last night 1 correct girl I've “I had a prett, self.” Quite th Altnough he mak Nor wanders e The tie that bine Is not the one Orders Mus Small Town ( through here with Motorist—But I this car. Cop—Then get « it closed. Note From Tourist—1 suppe quite agitated wh ternational thieves Native—Yes; th put locks on the cg Why Booker the Ager ventriloquist act af tainment. It's for The Ventriloquis dummy’s jaw all tl watch it. They're Signs Point Fond Mamma—I propose soon, Dor Daughter—Yes, | making so many marks about you.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers