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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 25, 1915)
gg- ■ .-.— ' - '. I THE GLOVED HAND |j ^ T>etec1ix)e Story (By BURTON E. STEVENSON Author of "The Hoiladay Case,” "The Marathon Mystery,” "The Mystery of the Boulo Cabinet,” etc. > - --—-^ CHAPTER H—(Continued.) “It Is absurd.” I assented, “and yet (t Isn't much more absurd than to sup pose that two men would go out on the roof every night to watch a Roman candle, as you call it, come down. Un lass, of course, they’re lunatics.” "No,” said Godfrey, "I don’t believe they’re lunatics—at least, not both of them. I have a sort of theory about ft: but it’s a pretty thin one. and I want you to do a little Investigating on your own account before I tell you What It Is. It’s time »ve went to bed. Don’t get up In the morning till you’re ready to. Probably I’ll not see you till flight; I have some work to do that t»iU take me off early, liut Mrs. Har E» will make you comfortable, and I’ll ■ back In time to Join you in another ok at the Roman candle!” He uttered the last words Jestingly, but I could see that the jest was a sur face one, and that, at heart, he was deeply serious. Evidently, the stVange •tar had impressed him even more than It had me—though, perhaps, in a dif ferent manner. 1 found that It had impressed me (Jeeply enough, for I dreamed about It (hat night—dreamed and awoke, only to fall asleep and dream and wake again, t d<> not remember that 1 saw uny more 1n the dream than I had seen with my Waking eyes, but each time I awoke trembling with apprehension and bathed in perspiration. As 1 lay there the second time, staring up into the tSarknoss ami telling myself I was a Cool, there came a sudden rush of wind among the trees outside; then a vivid flash of lightning and an instant rending crash of thunder, and then a steady downpour of rain, f could guess how the gasping city Welcomed it, and I lay for a long time listening to it, as it dripped from the. leaves and beat agulnst the louse. A delightful coolness filled tho room, an odor fresh and clean; and fvhen. at last, with nerves quieted, I (ell asleep again, it was not to awaken t-ntil the sun was bright agulnst my (jrtalns. CHAPTER III. \ THE DRAMA IN THE GARDEN. I glanced at my watch, as soon as I Anas out of bed. and saw that it was After 10 o'clock. All the sleep I had font during the hot nights of the pre-. Vlous week had been crowded into the last nine hours: I felt like a new man, *nd when, half an hour later. I ran townstalrs, it was with such an ap petite for breakfast as 1 had not known for a 'ong time. There was no one in the hall, and I Hepped out through the open door to the porch beyond, and stood looking about me. The house was built in the taldst of a grove of beautiful old trees, some distance back from tho road, of Which I could catch only a glimpse. It was a small house, a story and a half |n height, evidently designed only as k summer residence. "Good morning, sir.” said a voice be hind me. and I turned to find a plens tnt faced grav haired woman standing i the doorway. "Good morning." I responded. "I •oppose you are Mrs. Hargis?" "Yes. sir; and your breakfast’s ♦eady.” "Has Mr. Godfrey gone?" “Yes. sir; he left about an hour ago. tie was afraid his machine would Waken you." “It didn’t,” I sold, as I followed her back along the hall. “Nothing short of an earthquake would hava wakened me. Ah. this Is fine!" She had shown me into a pleasant loom, where a little table was set near in open window. It made quite a pic ture. with its white cloth and shining dishes and plate of yellow butter, and bowl of crimson berries, and—but I didn't linger to admire it. I don't know when I have enjoyed breakfast so much. Mrs. Hargis, after bringing in the eggs and bacon and setting a lit tle pot of steaming coffee at my el bow, sensibly left me alone tc the en joyment of It. Kver since that morn ing, I have realized that, to start the d»y exactly right, a man should break fast by himself, amid just such sur roundings, leisurely and without dis traction. A copy of the morning's Rec ord was lying on the table, but I did mot even open it. I did not care what Wad happened in the world the day before! At last, ineffahly content. I stepped but upon the driveway at the side of «he house, and strolled away among the trees. At the end of a few minutes, I came to tho high stone wait which bounded the estate of the myterlous Worthington Vaughan, and suddenly the wish came to me to see what lay behind it. Without much difficulty, I found the tree with the ladder against It. which wc had mounted the night be fore. It was a long ladder, even in the daytime, but at last I reached the top and settled myself on tho limb against which it rested. Assuring mysdf that the leaves hid me from any chance observer. I looked down into the grounds beyond the wall. There was not much to see. The grounds were extensive and hud evi dently been laid out with cure, hut there was an air of neglect about them, as though the attention they received was careless and inadequate. The sbrubberv was too dense, grass was invading the walks, hero and there a tree showed a dead limb or a broken * no Near the house was a wide lawn. I.CBignod. perhaps, as a tennis court or eroquet ground, with rustic seats un der the trees lit the edge. About the house itself was a screen ■vt magnificent elms, which doubtless •gave the place Us name, and which •but the house in completely. All 1 could see of it was one corner of the ioof. This, however, stood out clear kgninst the sky, and it was here, evi dently. that the mysterious midnight Sgures had been stationed. As 1 looked It it. I realized the truth of Godfreys remark that prob ably from no c'lher point of vantage ♦ at just ti ls would be visible. It dhl no, take me many minutes to •xhaust the Interest of this empty pros <e» t, more 'specially since my perch «vas anythin.? but comfortable, and I was abou* to descend, when two white robed '’.gurus appeared at tho edge of the t-pen space near the house and walked slowly across It. 1 settle back Sato my place with a tightening of in terest which made me forget Its dis comfort. for that these were the two I tar worshipers I did not doubt. The distance was so great that their isxx-s were the merest blurs; but I mid see that one leaned heavily upon te arm of the ether, as much, or so seemed to me, for moral as for phys <■»! eoptort. I could see. too. that tha 2 hair of the feebler man was white, while that of his companion was Jet black. The younger man's face ap peared bo dark that I suspected he wore a beard, and his figure was erect and vigorous, in the prime of life, virile and full of power. He certainly dominated the older man. I watched them attentively, as they paced back and forth, and the de pendence of tho one upon the other was very manifest. Both heads were bent as though In earnest talk and. for perhaps half an hour, they walked Blow- . ly up and down. Then, at a sign of fatigue from the older figure, the other led him to a garden bench, where both , sat down. The elder man, I told myself, was no doubt Worthington Vaughan. Small wonder he was considered queer if ho dressed habitually In a white robe and worshiped tho stars at midnight! Thero was something monkish about tho hab its which ho and his companion wore, and the thought flashed Into my mind , that perhaps they were members of some religious order, or some Oriental : cult or priesthood. And both of them. j I udded to myself, must be a little , mad! As I watched, tho discussion gradu- j ally grew more animated, nnd the , younger man, springing to his feet, j paced excitedly up and down, touching , his forehead with his fingers from time , to time, and raising his hands to hear- , en. as though calling It as a witness to his words. At last tho other made a sign of assent, got to his feet, bent his ] heud reverently as to a spiritual supe- , rlor and walked slowly away toward the house. The younger man stood gaz- . lng after him until he passed from , sight, then resumed his rapid pacing up and down, evidently deeply moved. At last, from the direction of tho , house, came the flutter of a white robe. For a moment, I thought It was the old . man returning; then, as it emerged ful- 1 ly from the trees, I saw that it was a woman—a young woman, I guessed, from her slimness, and from the mass of dark hair which framed her face. , And then I remembered that Godfrey j had told mo that Worthington Vaughan had a daughter. The man was at her side In an In stant. held out his hand, and said something, which caused her to shrink , away. She half turned, as though to flee, but the other laid his hand upon her arm, speaking earnestly, and, after . a moment. Hhe permitted him to lead ; her to a seat. He remained standing , before her, sometimes raising his hands . to heaven, sometimes pointing toward , the house, sometimes bending close above her, and from time to time, mak- j lng that peculiar gesture of touching 1 his fingers to Ills forehead, whose , meaning I could not guess. But I could ; guess at tho torrent of passionate words ! which pourea from his Ups. and at the , eager light whl^h was in his eyes! The woman ‘ sat quite still, with ] bowed head, listening, but making no sign either of consent or refusal. Grad- , ually, the man grew more confident, , and at Inst stooped to tnko her hand, but she drew It quickly away, and, rals- ( lng her head, said something slowly ] and with emphasis. He shook his head , savagely, then, after a rapid turn up j and down, seemed to agree, bowed low j to her. nnd went rnpidly away townrd ‘ the house. Tho woman sat for seme , time where he had left her, her face , In her hands: then, with a. gesture of ( weariness and discouragement, crossed ( tho lawn and disappeared among the f trees. For a long time T sat there motion- t less, my eyes on the spot where she , had disappeared, trying to understand, j What was the meaning of the scene? ( What was It the 'younger man had » urged so passionately upon her. but j at which she had rebelled? What was , It for which he had pled so earnestly? t The obvious answer was that he pled for her love, that he had urged her to t become Ills wife: but the answer did r not satisfy me. His attitude had been s passionate enough, but It had scarcely been lover like. It had more of ad- \ monition, of warning, even of threat, f than of entreaty in it. It was not the i attitude of a lover to his mistress, i but of a master to his pupil. c And what had been the answer, wrung from her finally by his Insist- J once—the answer to which he had at 1 tirst violently dissented, and then re- ' luctantly agreed ? 1 No doubt, if these people had been 1 garbed in the clothes of every day, 1 l should have felt at the outset that 1 .all this was none of my business, and !J have crept down the ladder and gone 1 away. But their strange dross gave to the scene an air at once unreal and theatrical, and not for an instant had I felt myself an Intru der. It was as though 1 were looking at the rehearsal of a drama designed for , the public gaze and enacted upon a stage: or, more properly, a pantomime, i dim and figurative, but most impres- < sive. Might it not, indeed, be a re- J hear sal of some sort—private theatri- J cals—make believe? But that scene at midnight—that could not be make be- J lieve! No. nor was this) scene in the ‘ garden. It was in earnest—in dead- ‘ best earnest: there was about it some- 1 thing sinister and threatening; and it c was the realization of this—the real- J ization that there wus something here . not right, something demanding acru- c tiny—which kept me chained to my f uncomfortable perch, minute aftor , minute. But nothing further happened, and I * realized, at last, that if I was to escape ' an agonizing cramp in the leg, I must * get down. I put my feet on the ladder, ( and then paused for a last look about j the grounds. My eye was caught by * a flutter of white among the trees. Someone was walking along one of the f paths; in a moment, straining for- • ward, l saw it was the woman, and • that she was approaching the wall. < And then, as she came nearer, 1 saw < tli,it she was not a woman at all, but a * girl—a girl of 18 or 20. to whom the ! flowing robee gave, at a distance, the ! effect of age. I caught only a glimpse 1 of her face before it was hidden by u i clump of shrubbery, but that glimpse < told me that it was a face to set the ! pulses leaping. I strained still farther 1 forward, waiting until she should come 1 into sight again. . . Along the path she came, with the sunlight about her kissing her hair, ’ her ltpa, her cheeks—and the next in stant her eyes were staring upwaids Into none. 1 could not move. I could only stare down at her. I saw the hot color sweep < across her face: I saw her hand go to her bosom; I saw her turn to flee. Then, to my amazement, she stopped, I as though arrested by a sudden I thought, turned toward me again, and | raised her eyes deliberately to mine. | For fully a minute she stood there, 4 rer gaze searching ana intent, as though she would read my soul; then her face hardened with sudden reso lution. Again she put her hand to her bosom, turned hastily toward the wail, and disappeared behind it. The next instant, something white came flying over it, and fell on the grass beneath my tree. Staring down at it, I saw it was a letter. CHAPTER IV. ENTER FREDDIE SWAIN. I fell, rather than climbed, down the ladder, snatched the white missile from the grass, and saw that it was, indeed a sealed and addressed envelope. I had somehow expected that address to in clude either Godfrey’s name or mine; but it did neither. The envelope bore these words: MU. FREDERIC SWAIN, 1010 Fifth Avenue. New York C.ity. If not at this address, please try the Calumet club. I sat down on the lowest rung of the ladder, whistling softly to myself. For Freddie Swain’s address was no longer 1010 Fifth avenue, nor was he to be found in the luxurious rooms of the rialumet club. In fact, it was nearly x year since he had entered .either place. For some eight hours of every iveek day, he labored in the law of ’iccs of Royce <fc Lester; ho slept in i little room on the top floor of the Vlarathon; three hours of every eve ilng, Saturday, Sundays and holidays accepted, were spent at the law school if the University of New York; and he remaining hours of the 24 in haunts nuch less conspicuous and expensive han the Calumet club. For Freddie Swain had taken one of hose toboggan Blides down the hill of 'ortune which sometimes happen to ;he most deserving. Hie father, old Jen. Orlando Swain, had, all his life, nit up a pompous front and was sup >osed to have inherited a fortune from lomewhere; but, when he died, this edifice was found to be all facade and 10 foundation, and Freddie inherited lothing but debts. He had been ex jensively educated for a career as an irnument of society, but he found that •areer cut short, for society suddenly :eaeed to find him ornamental. I sup >ose there were too many marriageable laughters about! I am bound to say that he took the ilow well. Instead of attempting to ling to the skirts of society as a ven ler of champagne or an organizer of otps champetres. he—to use his own vords—decided to cut the whole show. Our firm had been named as the idmlnistrators of the Bwain estate, and vhen the storm was over and we wero itting among the ruins, Freddie ex ircssed the intention of going to work. “What will you do?" Mr. Royce in luired. "Ever had any training in linking money?" "No, only in spending it," retorted •"reddle, easily. "But I can learn. I wras hlnking of studying law. That’s a rood trade, isn’t it?" "Splendid!” assented Mr. Royce, varmly. "And there are always so nany openings. You see, nobody studies aw—lawyers are as scarce as hen's "Just the same, I think I'll have a try at it," said Freddie, sturdily. “There's always room at the top, you know,” he added, with a grin. “I can go to the night school at the university, and I ought to be able to earn enough to live on, as a clerk or something. I know how to read and ■write." "That will help, of course,” agreed Mr. Royce. “But I’m afraid that, right at first, anyway, you can scarcely hope to live in the style to which you have been accustomed." Freddie turned on him with fire in his eyes. “Look here,” he said, “suppose you give me a job. I’ll do my work and earn my wages—try me and see.’’ There was something in his face that touched me, and I glanced at Mr. Royce. I saw that Ills gruffness was merely a mantle to cloak his real feel ings; and the result %vas that Freddie Swain was set to work as a copying clerk at a salary of $15 a week. He applied himself to his work with an1 energy that surprised me, and I learned that he was taking the night course at the university, as he had planned. Fin ally, one night, I met him as I was turning in to my rooms at the Mara thon, and found that he had rented a cubby-hole on the top floor of the building. After that, I saw him oc casionally, and when six months had passed, was forced to acknowledge that ho was thoroughly in earnest. I hap pened to remark to Mr. Royce one day that Swain seemed to be making good. “Yes,” my partner agreed; "I didn’t think ho had it in him. Ho had a rude awakening from his dream of affluence, and it seems to have done him good.” But. somehow, I had fancied that it was from more than a dream of af fluence he had been awakened; and now. as I sat staring at this letter, i began to understand dimly what the other dream had been. The first thing was to get the letter into his hands, for I was certain that It was a cry for help. I glanced at my watch and 3a\v that it was nearly half past 12. Swain, I knew, would be at lunch, and was not due at the office until 1 o’clock. Slipping the letter into my pocket, I turned back to the house, and found Mrs. Hargis standing on the front porch. (Continued next week.) Paris Safa But Sober. From Century Magazine. "Paris is safe now, and, like an in valid Just out of danger, is able to sit up and see a few friends. The Folies Bergeres! IIow like old times! Surely you won’t be able to help laughing there! In that slim and preoccupied audience there is a dry laugh or two occasionally, but mostly they dream at the ceiling. Comedy scenes go for pathos, and pathos— men rise, yawn, and walk out. Is this a dress rehearsal, college boys’ the atricals, or what? The house drifts further and further away until sud denly—’La Marseillaise!’ and the crowd is on its feet, electrified. Join ing in the chorus, shouting 'Vive la France!’ With the waving tricolor for a spur the show picks up for a while until a shouddor runs through the spectators—oh, that fancy bay onet drill by the chorus! And now the women leave; their faces are a little white. “No. the city has little appetite for gaiety; it is gripping realities. A myriad poignant needs keep Paris busy. And as the trained nurse in the operating room does not laugh or ask questions, but silently passes the in struments, so anxious, obedient Paris is straining every nerve to assist the surgeon, and has no thought for any thing but war. And, stimulated by its great peril, that thought has been so concentrated by suffering, by sacri fice, and service, that Paris has been lifted into a new order of being. It has gone on, it lias gone up." The Interborough Association of Female School Teachers in New York has a membership of over 15,000. The latest thing in jewelry for wom en is the nose diamond, which is al ready becoming popular in San Fran cisco. Mrs. William Bishop, aged 37, of Wlnsted. Conn., has just given birth to her 17th child. Princess Margaret, of Denmark, it is said, will become the bride of the prince of Wales at the conclusion of the war. \ ONE ON THE OLD SQUIRE Child’s Misconstruction that Must Have Been in a Slight Degree Disconcerting. Tlie kindly old squire was giving a little treat to the village school chil dren. After supper he stepped on to the platform and announced, with a beaming smile: "Now, I am going to perform cer tain actions, and you must guess what proverb they represent. The boy or girl who succeeds first will receive a quarter.” That did it. Instantly every eye was fixed on him. First of all the old gentleman lay down on the platform. Then one man came forward and tried in vain to lift him. Two others came to his aid, and between them they raised the squire, who was rather portly. The actions were meant to repre sent the motto, "Union is strength.” When they had finished, the squire stepped forward and asked if any child had solved the puzzle. At once a grubby hand shot up and an eager voice squeaked: “Let sleeping dogs lie.” Some merchants need larger quar ters and some need more quarters. ---- Write Plnrlne Kjre ltemedy Co.,r<ilcago for illustrated Book of the Eye Free. Some women are happy because they know iiow to think they are. Dr. Pierce’s Pellets are best for liver, bowels and Btomaeh. One little Pellet for a laxative—three for a cathartic.—Adv. How He Saw the Louvre. A French literary man fell in with one of the new order of American commercial men the other night and asked him if he had seen the sights of Paris. ‘■‘Yes,” he said, “but I find that the police have closed most of the sights.” “Oh, no,” said his literary friend, "the real sights of Paris, the monu ments, are always open—the Pan theon, Notre Dame, the Invalides, the Madeleine and the Louvre.” “Ah, yes. 1 have seen the Louvre thoroughly.” "Thoroughly?” said the French liomme de lettres in surprise, recall ing the labyrinthian vastness of the Louvre collection, “and how long did it take you?" “Fully an hour," was the reply which has left the Frenchman puz zled ever since. Only Once. “Do you see the man?" “Yes. I see the man." “What is he doing?” “He is blowing his fingers, jumping up and down and acting in such a way j that his wife looks at him in aston- , ishment and fear. There, he lias kicked over two chairs, torn down ; the lace curtains and made a rush for | the kitchen.” “But has the man gone crazy all of ; a sudden?” “Oh, no; he was hunting for a col- ! lar button and picked up his wife's | red-hot curling tongs in an absent \ way. Lots of husbands -do that — ; once. He won't speak to her for the I next three days, but he will not die of his injuries, and the experience may do him good.” Scheme Didn’t Work. “I tipped every waiter in the (lining room." said the man at the summer hotel. "And thereby secured the best of attention?" “No. The head waiter asserted his authority and called a boycott. He was indignant because I didn't hold out on the other boys and give all the money to him." DEMAND FOR PURE ENGLISH New York Publication Criticizes the Style in Which Street Car No tices Are Worded. “Public notices ought to be exam ples of the best writing. They should be written by masters of style. Take, for example, the notice in the street cars: “Passengers requiring transfers must request same from conductors at the time of depositing fares in box.” Of course, that is understandable. It is about as good English as one would expect in a judge’s opinion. But it is not good enough for a notice that hundreds of thousands of people are to read every day. Here is New York spending forty millions a year for lit erary and other instruction for chil dren who, when they ride in the street cars, are exposed to managers’ Eng lish and taught, as to transfers, to "re quest same irom conductors.” Shocking! Of course the notice ought to read: "Passengers who want transfers must ask for them when they put their fares in the box.”—Life. RECOGNIZED DEBT TO MICE Mr. Growcher Grateful That He Didn’t Have to Partake of the Welch Rabbit. "Yep,” said Mr. Growcher. "nothing was made in vain. Everything that earth produces may serve some useful purpose, if you can only find out what it is. There is a whole lot to think about in that story of the mouse who gnawed the net for the captured lion.” “Mebbe there is,” replied his wife. “But I’m willing to bet that was the only kind and considerate mouse known to the animal kingdom.” “You are wrong. Have you forgot ten that Welsh rabbit party we at- , tended last night?” “Yes. But there wasn’t any Welsh rabbit?" "And as a result we are all comfort able and happy today instead of be ing miserable and dyspeptic. And we owe it all to the fact that a few kind hearted mice sneaked around during the afternoon and ate up the cheese.” Appropriate Prescription. The following is from New Zealand, where, apparently, “accidents happen in the best regulated’’ military camps. An officer attached to one of the re enforcement drafts was making his rounds, and asked if there were any complaints. An Aucklander stepped forward and declared that he had been supplied with a ginger-ale bottle that contained not gingerale but benzine, and that he had drunk half the. ben zine unwittingly. 'All right." replied the officer, “you had better not smoke for a few days." Sad Pleasure. A minister who had resigned from his church was making his farewell calls. He called at the home of one of his parishioners who sent her lit tle girl down to the parlor to en tertain the minister for a few min utes, the mother not being dressed to receive him. After a lew of the cus tomary remarks about the weather the little girl said to the minister: ‘.’1 hear that we are to have the sad pleasure of losing you.” Not Particular. “Jones says he's for peace at any price." “Oh, Jones would be for anything at any price.” There’s nothing like being ready when opportunity knocks. HAVE YOU o., A CHILD? Many women long for children, but because ol Some curable physical derangement are deprived of this greatest of all happiness. The women whose names follow were restored to normal health by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta ble Compound. Write and ask them about it. “I took your Com pound and have a fine, strong baby.” — Mrs. John Mitchell, Mas sena, N. Y. “Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound is a wonderful medicine for expectant mothers. ’ ’ — Mrs. A. M. Myers, Gor donville, Mo. “I highly recommend Lydia E. Pinkham’s Veg etable Compound before child-birth, It has done so much for me.”—Mrs. E. M. Doerr, R. R. 1, Con shohocken, Pa. “ I took Lydia E. Pink ham’s Vegetable Com pound to build up my system and have the dearest baby girl in the world.”—Mrs. Mose Blakeley, Coalport, Pa. “I praise the Com pound whenever I have a chance. It did so much for me before my little girl was bom.”—Mrs. E. W. Sanders, Rowles burg, W. Va. “I took your Com pound before baby was born and feel I owe mv life to it."—Mrs. Winn/* Tillis, Winter Haven*' Florida. ” Insulted the “Copper.” Through the busy streets a stal wart policeman led a little child by the hand. A motherly looking woman paused before them for a moment. Then, in i sudden burst of sympathy, she bent over the child and kissed her. “Poor lamb!” she breathed sadly. "She looks so cold and etarvedlike, and she hasn't been washed for a week. Some folks cannot be trusted with children, wicked, cruel things they are. Where did you find the child, policeman?" ^ "Find the child, woman?” snarled the policeman angrily, “i didn’t And tier at all. She's my own kid!" His Lavish Linguipotence. "Those sonorous sentences that the Hon. Bray Louder rolls forth with meh an impressive wealth of masto iontic pomposity and overpowering orotundity—” “Yeah! Sounds like the. water com ing down at Lodore in MeGcffev's old l'hird Leader, doesn’t it? The hon arable keeps a large collection of port y platitudes preserved in glass jar# :or the obfuscation of the unthink ing."—Kansas City Star. It Surely Is. “Pa, what is affectation?" 'Affectation, my son, is carrying hree extra tires on an automobile hat never gets more than tour blocks iway from a garage."—Detroit Free Press. J The Exception. “All tile world loves a lover." "Except the boss who is expected o raise his salary on the wedding lay.” __ The Breakfast Shapes the Day Load the stomach up with a breakfast of rich, greasy food, and you clog both digestion and mind. For real work—real efficiency—try a il breakfast of T. Grape-Nuts and Cream Some fruit, an egg, toast, and a cup of hot Postum. Then tackle the work ahead with vigor and a keen mind. There’s joy in it Grape-Nuts is a food for winners. “There’s a Reason” 1 Sold by Grocers everywhere.