THE BEST MAN
By
Grace Livingston Hill Lutz
Author of "Marcia Schuyler," “Dawn of the Morning,"
“Lo, Michael!" etc.
Philadelphia & I.ondon.
J. B. Lippincott Company.
1914.
CHAPTER II (Continued).
Tho spell of breathlessness was
broken. The guests relaxed and went
on with their dinner.
Gordon, meanwhile, tried coolly to
keep up a pretense of eating, the paper
held in one hand while he seemed to
be studying it. Once he turned it over
and looked on the back. There was a
large crossmark In red ink at the up
per end. He looked at it curiously and
then instinctively at his host.
"That is my own mark," said Mr.
Holman. “I put it there to distinguish
it from other papers." Ho was smil
ing politely, but he might as well have
said, "I put it there to identify it in
case of theft;” for every one at the
table, unless it might be his wife, un
derstood that that was what he meant.
Gordon felt it and was conscious of tho
other paper in his vest-pocket. The
way was going to be most difficult.
Among tho articles in the envelope
which the chief had given him before
his departure from Washington were
a pair of shell-rimmed eye-glasses, a
false mustache, a goatee, and a pair
of eyebrows. He had laughed at the
suggestion of hlgh-trngedy contained
in the disguise, but had brought them
with him for a possiblo emergency.
The eye-glasses were tucked Into the
vest-pocket beside the duplicate paper,
lie bethought himself of them now.
'Could he, under cover of taking them
out, manage to exchange the papers?
And if he should, how about that red
ink mark across the back? Would any
one notice its absence? It was well to
exchange the papers as soon as pos
sible before the writing had been stud
ied by those at the table, for he knew
that the other message, though resem
bling this one In general words, differed
enough to attract tho attention of a
close observer. Dared he risk their
noticing the absence of tho red cross
on the back?
Slowly, cautiously, under cover of
tho conversation, he managed to get
that duplicate paper out of Ids pocket
and under the napkin in Ids lap. This
he did with one hand, all the time
ostentatiously holding the code mes
sage in the other hand, with its back
to the people at tho table. This hand
mennwhile also held his coat lapel out
that ho might the more easily search
his ve3t-pockets for the glasses. It all
looked natural. The hostess was en
gaged in a whispered conversation
with the maid at the moment. The
host and other guests were finishing
the exceedingly delicious patties on
their plates, and the precious code
message was safely in evidence, red
cross and all. They saw no reason to
hunt for his glasses.
"Oh, here they are!” he said, quite
unconcernedly, and put on the glasses
to look more closely at the paper,
spreading It smoothly on the table
cloth before him, and wondering how
he should get It Into hi* lap In place
tf the one that now lay quietly under
Is napkin.
The host and the guests politely re
trained from talking to Gordon and
lold each other incidents of the day
in low tones that indicated the non
importance of what they were saying;
While they waited for the real business
Of the hour.
Then the butler removed the plates,
pausing beside Gordon waiting punctil
iously with his silver tray to brush
*.way the crumbs.
This was Just what Gordon waited
for. It had come to him as the only
way. Courteously he drew aside, lift
ing the paper from the table and put
ting it In his lap, for Just the Instant
VhTle the butler did his work; but In
that instant the paper with the red
cross was slipped under the napkin,
and the other paper took its place
upon the table, back down so that Its
lack of a red cross could not be noted.
So far, so good, but how long could
this be kept up? And the paper under
the napkin—how was It to be got into
his pocket? His hands were like Ice
now, and his brain seemed to be at
boiling heat as he sat back and real
ized that the deed was done, and could
not be undone. If uny one should
pick up that paper from the table and
discover the lack of the red mark, it
Would be all up with him. He looked
tip for an Instant to meet the gaze of
the six men upon him. They had noth
ing better to do now than to look at
him until the next course arrived. He
realized that not one of them would
have mercy upon him If they knew
what he had done, not one unless it
might be the tired, old-lookhig ono,
and he would not dare Interfere.
Still Gordon wan enabled to smile,
Riiil to say some pleasant nothings to
his hostess when she passed him the
salted almonds. His hand lay care
lessly guarding the secret of the paper
on the table, innocently, as though it
Just happened that he laid it on the
miner.
Sitting thus with the real paper In
his lap under his large damask nap
kin, the false paper under his hand on
the table where he from time to time
perused it, and his eye-glasses which
made him look most distinguished still
on his nose, he heard the distant tele
phone bell ring.
He remembered the words of his
chief and sat rigid. From his position
he could see the tall clock In the hall,
and Its gilded hands pointed to ten
minutes before seven. It was about the
time his chief had said he would be
called on the telephone. What should
fce do with the two papers?
He had but an Instant to think
Until the well trained butler returned
and announced tha{ some
>ne wished to speak with Mr. Burn
ham on the telephone. His resolve was
taken. He would have to leave the sub
Ititute paper on the table. To carry It
away with him might arouse suspicion,
ind, moreover, he could not easily man
age both without being noticed. The
teal paper must be put safely away at
all hazards, and he must take the
chance that the absence of the red mark
would remain unnoticed until Ills re
turn.
Deliberately he laid a heavy silver
. spoon across one edge of the paper on
the table, and an ice cream fork across
the other, as if to hold tt in place until
his return. Then, rising with apologies,
be gathered his napkin, paper, and ail
In his hand, holding it against his coat
most naturally, as if he had forgotten
that h« had it, and made his way Into
the front hall, where in an alcove was
5,. ie. As he passed the hat
t
rack lie swept his coat and hat off with
his free hand, and bore them with him,
devoutly hoping that he was not being
watched from the dining room. Could
ho possibly get from the telephone out
the front door without being seen?
Hastily he hid the cipher message in an
Inner pocket. The napkin he tropped on
the little telephone table, and taking up
the receiver he spoke: "Hello! Yes! Oh,
good evening! You don’t say so! How
did that happen?" He made his voice
purposely clear, that It mlg'/t be heard
In the dining room If anyone was list
ening. Then glancing In that direction
he saw, to his horror, his host lean over
and lift the cipher paper he had left on
the table and hand it to the guest on his
right.
The messenger at the other end had
given his sentences agreed upon and ho
had replied according to the sentences
laid down by the chief In his Instruc
tions; the other end had said good-bye
and hung up, but Gordon's voice spoke,
cool and clear in the little alcove, de
spite his excitement. "All right. Certain
ly, I can take time to writo It down.
Walt until I get my pencil. Now, I’m
ready. Have you It there? I’ll wait a
minute until you get It." His heart beat
wildly. The blood surged through his
ears like rushing waters. Would they
look for the little red mark? The soft
clink of spoons and dishes and the
murmur of conversation was still going
on. but thero was no doubt but that It
was a matter of a few seconds before
his theft would be discovered. He must
make an instant dash for liberty while
he yet could. Couticusly, stealthily, like
a shadow from the alcove, one eye on
the dining room, he stole to the door
and turned the knob. Yet even ns ho
did so he saw his recent host rise ex
citedly from his seat and fairly snatch
the paper from the man who held It.
His last glimpse of the room where he
had bue three minutes before been en
joying the hospitality of the house was
a vision of the entire company starting
up and pointing to himself even as he
slid from sight. There was no longer
need for silence. He had been discov
ered and must fight for his life. He shut
the door quickly, his nerves so tense
that It seemed as If something must
break soon; opened and slammed the
outer door, and was out In the great
whirling city under the flare of electric
lamps with only the chance of a second
of time before his pursuers would be
upon him.
He came down the steps with the air
of one who could siarcely take time to
touch hlj leet to the ground, but must
uy.
CHAPTER III.
Almost In front of the house stood a
closed carrlngo with two fine horses,
but the coachman was looking up anx
iously toward tho next building. The
sound of tho closing door drew the
man's attention, and, catching Gordon’s
eye, he made as if to jump down and
throw open tho door of the earriage.
Quick as a flash, Gordon saw he had
bfen mistaken for the man the car
riage awaited, and he determined to
make use of the circumstance.
"Don’t get down,” he called to the
man. taking chances. "It's very late al
ready. I'll open the door. Drive for all
you’re worth." Ho Jumped in and
slammed the carriage door behind him,
and In a second more tho horses were
flying down the street. A glance from
the back window showed an excited
group of hla fellow-guests standing at
the open door of the mansion he had
Just left pointing toward his carriage
and widely gesticulating. He surmised
that his host was already at tho tele
phone calling for his own private detec
tive.
Gordon could scarcely believe his
sense that he had accomplished his mis
sion and flight so far, and yet he knew
his situation was most pecarlous. Where
ho was going he neither knew nor cared.
When he was sure he wus far enough
from the house he would call to the
driver and give him directions, but first
he must make sure that the precious
paper was safely stowed awav, In case
lie should be caught and searched. They
might be coming after him with motor
cycles in a minute or two.
Carefully rolling the paper Into a tiny
compass, he slipped it into a hollow
gold case which was among the things
in the envelope the chief had given him.
There was a fine chain attached to the
case, and tho whole looked innocently
like a gold pencil. The chain he slipped
about his neck, dropping the case down
inside his collar. That done he breathed
more freely. Only from his dead body
should they take that away. Then he
hastily put on tho false eyebrows, mus
tache and goatee which had been pro
vided for bis disguise, and pulling on
a pair of light gloves he felt more fit
to evade detection.
Ho was just beginning to think what
he should say to the driver about tak
ing him to the station, for It jvas im
portant that he get out of the city at
once, when, glancing out of the window
to see what part of the city ho was
being taken through, he became aware
of an auto close beside the carriage
keeping pace with it, and two men
stretching their necks as if to look into
the carriage window at him. He with
drew to the shadow Instantly so that
they could not see him, but the one
uulek glance he had had made him sure
that one of his pursuers was the short
thick set man with the cruel jaw who
had sat across from him at the dinner
table a few minutes before. If this were
so be had practically no chance at all
of escape, for what was a carriage
against a swift moving car and what
was he against a whole city fyll of
stran&trrs find enemies? If he attempt
ed to drop from the carriage on the
other side and escape Into the dark
ness he had but a chance of 1,000 at
not being seen, and he could not hop6
to hide and get away In this unknown
pari of the city. Yet he must take his
chance somehow, for the carriage must
sooner or later get somewhere and he
be obliged to face his pursuers.
To make matters worse, just at the
Instant when he had decided to jump at
the next dark place and was measuring
the distance with his eye, his hand
even being outstretched to grasp the
door handle, a blustering, boisterous
motorcycle burst Into full bloom just
where he Intended to jump, and the
man who rode it was In uniform. He
dodged back Into the darkness of tho
carriage again that he might not be
seen, and the motorcycle cam,e so near
that its rider turned a white face and
looked In. He felt that his time had
come, and his cause was lost. It had
not yet occurred to him that the men
who were pursuing would hardly be
likely to call In municipal aid In their
search, lest their own duplicity would
be discovered. He reasoned that he
was dealing with desperate men who
would stop at nothing to get back the
original cipher paper, and stop his
mouth. He was well aware that only
death would be considered a sufficient
silencer for him after what he had seen
at Mr. Holman's dinner table, for the
evidence he could give would Involve
the honor of every man who had sat
there. He saw in a flash that the two
henchmen whom he was sure were even
now riding In the car on his right had
been at the table for the purpose of
silencing him If he showed any signs
of giving trouble. The wonder was that
any of them dared call in a stranger
on a matter of such grave import,
which meant ruin to them all If they
were found out, but probably they had
reasoned that every man had his price
and had intended to offer him a share
of the booty. It was likely that the
chief had caused It to be understood by
them that he was the right kind of man
for their purpose. Yet, of course, they
had taken precautions, and now they
had him well caught, an auto on one
side, a motorcycle on the other, and no
telling how many more behind! He had
been a fool to get into this carriage. He
might have known it would only trap
him to his death. There seemed abso
lutely no chance for escape now—yet
he must fight to the last. He put his
hand on his revolver to make sure it
was easy to get at, tried to think
whether it would not be better to chew
up and swallow that cipher message
rather than to run the risk of Its fall
ing again into the hands of the enemy;
decided that he must carry it intact to
his chief If possible; and finally that he
must make a dash for safety at once,
wh.en just then the carriage turned
briskly Into a wide driveway, and the
attendant auto and motorcycle dropped
behind us if puzzled at the move. The
carriage stopped short and a bright
light from an open doorway was
flung into his face. There seemed to
be high stone walls on one side and the
lighted doorway on the other hand evi
dently led Into a great stone building.
He could hear the puffing of the car
and cycle just behind. A wild notion
that the carriage had been placed in
front of the house to trap him in case
he tried to escape, and that he had been
brought to prison, flitted through his
mand.
His hand was on his revolver as the
coachman jumped down to fling open
the carriage door, for he intended to
fight for his liberty to the last.
He glunced back through the carriage
window, and the lights of the auto
glared in his face. The short, thick set
man was getting out of the car, and the
motorcyclist hail stood his machine up
against the wall and was coming to
ward the carrlnge. Escape was going
♦ a ha nroAtlpallv imnnflsihlA A wild
thought of dashing out the opposite
door of his carriage, boldly seizing the
motorcycle and making off on it passed
through his mind, and then the door
on his left was flung open and the
carriage was immediately surrounded
by six excited men in evening dress, all
talking at once. "Here you are at
last!" they chorused.
"Where is the best man?” shouted
some one from the doorway. "Hasn’t
ho come, either?” And as if in answer
one of the men by the carriage door
wheeled and called excitedly: "Yes,
he’s come! Tell him—tell Jeff—tell
him he’s come.” Then* turning once
more to Gordon he seized him by the
aria and cried: "Come on quickly!
There isn't a minute to wait. The or
ganist is fairly frantic. Everybody has
been just as nervous as could be. ^e
couldn’t very well go on without you—
you know. But don’t let that worry
you. It's all right now you’ve come.
Forget it, old man, and hustle.” Dimly
Gordon perceived above the sound of
subdued hubbub that an organ was
playing, and even as he listened it
burst into the joyous notes of the wed
ding march. It dawned upon him that
this was not a prison to which he had
come but a church—not a court room
but-a wedding, and. horror of horrors!
they took him for the best man. His
disguise had been his undoing. How
was he to get out of this scrape? And
with his pursuers just behind!
“Let rne explain-” he began, and
wondered what he could explain.
"There's no time for explanations
now, man. I tell you the organ has
begun the march. We’re expected to
be marching down that middle aisle
this very minute and Jeff Is waiting
for us in the chapel. I sent the signal
to the bride and another to the organ
ist the minute we sighted you. Come
on! Everybody knows your boat was
late in coming in. You don’t need to
explain a thing till afterwards."
At that moment one of the ushers
moved aside and the short, thick set
man stepped between, the light shin
ing fully upon his face, and Gordon
knew him positively for the man who
had sat opposite him at the table a few
minutes before. He was peering
eagerly Into the carriage door and Gor
don saw his only escape was into the
church. With his heart pounding like
a trip hammer he yielded himself to
the six ushers, who swept the little
pursuer aside as if he had been a fly
and literally bore Gordon up the steps
and Into the church door.
A burst of music filled his senses,
and dazzling lights, glimpses of flow
ers, palms and beautiful garments be
wildered him. His one thought was
for escape from his pursuers. Would
they follow him Into the church and
drag him out In the presence of all
these people, or would they be thrown
off the track for a little while and
give him opportunity yet to get away?
He looked around wildly for a place
of exit, but he was in the hands of
the insistent ushers. One of them
chattered to him in a low. growling
whisper, such as men use on solemn
occasion:
“It must have been rough on you,
being anxious like this about getting
here, but never mind now. It’ll go all
right. Come on. Here’s your cue and
there stands Jefferson over there. You
and he go in with the minister, you
know. The groom and the best man,
you understand, they’ll tell you when.
Jeff has the ring, all right, so you
won’t need to bother about that.
There’s absolutely nothing for you to
do but stand where you’re put and go
out when the rest do. You needn't feel
a bit nervous."
Was it possible that these crazy peo
ple didn't recognize their mistake even
yet here In the bright light? Couldn’t
they seo his mustache was stuck on
ftivl one eyebrow was crooked? Didn’t
they know their best man well enough
to recognize his voice? Surely, surely,
some one would discover the mistake
goon—tbpt man Jeff over there who
was eyeing him so intently. He would
be sure to know this was not his friend.
Yet every minute that they continued
to think so was a distinct gain for
Gordon, puzzling his pursuers and giv
ing himself time to think and plan and
study his strange surroundings.
And now they were drawing him
forward and a turn of his head gave
him a vision of the stubbed head of
the thick set man peering in at the
chapel door and and watching him
eagerly. He must fool him if possible.
“But I don’t know anything about
the arrangements," faltered Gordon,
reflecting that the best man might not
be very well known to the ushers and
perhaps he resembled him. It was not
the first time he had been taken for
another man—and with his present
makeup and all, perhaps It was natu
ral. Could he possibly hope to bluff
It out for a few minutes until the cere
mony was over and then escape? It
would of course be the best way im
aginable to throw, that Impudent little
man In the doorway off his track. If
the real best man would only stay
away long enough It would not be a
difficult part to play. The original
man might turn up after he was gone
and create a pleasant little mystery,
but nobody would be Injured thereby.
All this passed through his mind while
the usher kept up his sepulchral whis
per:
“Why, there are just the usual ar
rangements, you know-nothing new.
You and Jeff go In after the ush,ers
have reached the back of the church
and opened the door. Then you just
stand there till Celia and her uncle
come up the aisle. Then follows the
ceremony—very brief. Celia had all
that repeating after the minister cut
out on account of not being able to re
hearse. It's to be just the simplest
service, not the usual lengthy affair.
Don’t worry, you’ll be all right? old
man. Hurry! they're calling you. Leave
your hat right here. Nov/ I must go.
Keep cool. It'll soon be over.”
The breathless usher hurried through
the door and settled into a sort of ex
alted hobble to the time of the wonder
ful Lohengrin music. Gordon turned,
thinking even yet to make a possible
escape, but the eagle eye of his pur
suer was upon him and the man Jef
ferson was by his side.
“Here we are!” he said, eagerly grab
bing Gordon’s hat and coat and dump
ing them on a chair. "I’ll look after
everything. Just come along. It’s time
we went in. The doctor is motioning
for us. Awfully glad to see you at last.
Too bad you had to rush so. How many
years is it since I saw you? Ten!
You’ve changed some, but you’re look
ing fine and dandy. No need to worry
about anything. It’ll soon be over and
the knot tied.”
Mechanically Gordon fell Into place
beside the man Jefferson, who was a
pleasant faced youth, well groomed and
handsome. Looking furtively at his
finely cut, happy features, Gordon won
dered if he would feel as glad as this
youth seemed to be, when he walked'
down the aisle to meet his bride. How,
by the way, would he feel if he were
going to be married now—going into
the face of this great company of well
dressed people to meet Miss Julia Bent
ley and be joined to her for life? In
stinctively his soul shrank within him
at the thought.
But now the door was wide open, the
rv/ui«uB uo vuoi, illivi lie suuueiuy
became aware of many eyes, and of
wondering how long his eyebrows
would withstand the perspiration that
was trickling softly down his forehead.
His mustache—ridiculous appendage!
why had he not removed It?—was It
awry? Dared he put up his hand to
s.ee? His gloves! Would any one no
tice that they were not as strictly fresh
as a best min's gloves should be? Then
he took his first step to the music, and
it was like being pulled from a delicious
morning nap and plunged Into a tub of
icy water.
Ho walked with feet that suddenly
weighed like lead, across a church that
looked to be miles in width, in the face
of swarms of curious eyes. He tried to
reflect that these people were all stran
gers to him, that they were not look
ing at him, anyway, but at the bride
groom by his side, and that It mattered
very little what he did so long as he
kept still and braved It out. If only the
real best man didn’t turn up until he
was well out of the church. Then he
could vanish In the dark, and go by
some back way to a car or p. taxicab
and so to the station. The thought of
the paper Inside the gold pencil case
filled him with a sort of elation. If
only lie could get out of this dreadful
church, he would probably get away
safely. Perhaps even the Incident of the
wedding might prove to be his protec
tion, for they would never seek him in a
crowded church at a fashionable wed
ding.
The man by his side managed him
admirably, giving him a whispered hint,
a shove, or a push now and then, and
getting him into the proper position.
It seemed as if the best man had to
occupy the most trying spot in all the
church; but, as they put him there, of
course It was all right. He glanced fur
tively over the faces near the front, and
they all looked quite satisfied, as If
everything were going as it should, so
he settled down to his fate, his white,
strained face partly hidden by the
abundant display of mustache and eye
Srow. People whispered softly how
handsome he looked, and some suggest
ed that he was not so stout as when
they had last seen him, 10 years before.
His stay In a foreign land must have
lone him good. One woman went so
far as to tell her daughter that he was
far more distinguished looking than she
lad ever thought he could become, but
t was wonderful what a stay In a for
eign land would do to improve a per
son.
The music stole onward; and slow
y, gracefully, like the opening of buds
nto flowers, the bridal party Inched
ilong up the middle aisle until at last
he bride in all th.e mystery of her white
,'ell arrived, and all the maidens In their
flowers and many colored gauzes were
mitably dlsposedabout her.
The feeble old man on whose arm
:he bride had leaned as she came up
;he aisle dropped out of the procession,
melting Into one of the front seats, and
3ordon found himself standing beside
:he bride. He felt sure there must b.e
something wrong about It, and looked
it bis young guide with an attempt to
change places with him, but the man
lamed Jefferson held him In place with
1 warning eye. ‘‘‘you’re all right. Just
stay where you are,” he whispered soft
y • <um vjui uuii aia* W| lowovnuj
strange fashions of weddings, and won
lerlng why he had never before taken
notice of just how a wedding party
came In and stood and got out again.
[f he was only out of this how glad he
would be. It seemed one had to be a
pretty all around man to be a member
>f the secret service.
The organ had hushed Its voice to a
sort of exultant sobbing, filled with
Ireams of flowers and Joys, and hints
of sorrow; and the minister In a voice
noth Impressive and musical began the
ceremony. Gordon stood doggedly and
wondered if that really was one eye
brow coming down over his eye, or only
x drop of perspiration.
Another full second passed, and he
decided that if he ever got out of this
situation alive he would never, no,
never, no, never, get married himself.
During the next second that crawled
by he became supremely conscious of
the creature in white by his side. A de
sire possessed him to look at her and
see if she were like Julia Bentley. It
was like a nightmare haunting his
Ireams that she was Julia Bentley
somehow transported to New York and
being married to him willy-nilly. He
could not shake it off, and the other
eyebrow began to feel shaky. Ho was
sure it was sailing down over his eye.
If he only dared press its adhesive
lining a little tighter to his flesh!
Some time during the situation there
came a prayer, interminable to his ex
cited imagination, as all the other cere
monies_
(Continued Next Week.)
The working force of the British
navy, afloat and ashore, includes mori I
than 1,000,900 man.
SECRET NEWSPAPERS
ISSUED IN BELGIUM
Defy and Baffle German Po»
lice—Methods of Publica
tion Mystery.
Havre, France, (by mail.)—The Bel
gian government authorities here have
received information of the continued
appearance of patriotic newspapers at
Brussels and throughout Belgium, in
defiance of the German censorship and
despite all the efforts of the German
military police. It is one of the mys
teries of the German occupation of
Belgium how these secret papers can be
published, where they engrave their
cartoons ridiculing the Germans, and
how they set the type and circulate the
papers.
There is a price of 50,000 marks on
the head of the editor of the Free Bel
gium, but it keeps on appearing just
the same. Several of the supposed
editors are said to have been shot. One
man was sentenced to 12 years hard
labor, others to three and 11 years, and
a woman, Madame Schoupens, to five
years. But each time that a supposed
editor is imprisoned and the German
authorities feel the trouble is ended,
the paper appears the following day
more lusty then ever with a cartoon
making fun of the prosecution.
A file is kept here of these secret
papers, as a matter of curiosity. Free
Belgium, which has given the most
trouble, prints the following notices un
der its title:
“A bulletin of patriotism, submitting
to no censorship whatever.
“Price per copy elastic, from zero
to infinity.
"Business office—Not being handy to
have an established address, we aro
installed in a movable automobile cel
lar.
"Advertisements—Business being nil
under German domination, we have
suppressed our advertising page and
counsel our patrons to keep their
money till times get better.
"Telegraphic address: Care of Ger
man commander at Brussels.”
A recent issue of Free Belgium gave
n cartoon by Raemaker, adapted from
Gustave Dore's scenes in hell, showing
women and children in agony as they
arc trampled down by a soldier in Ger
man helmet, the face of the soldier be
ing evidently meant for that of the
kaiser. Another cartoon, entitled
"Love's Chagrin,” shows General von
oissing tilt? military commanaer oi
Brussels, trying to find the editor of
Free Belgium in cellars and attics,
while the editorial rooms, business of
fice, etc., are depicted on wheels. A big
sun, labelled Free Belgium, smiles
down derisively at Von Bissing’s vain
efforts to capture the editors.
La Patrie Is another of these secret
newspapers. It announces under Its
title that it is a “noncensored Journal,
appearing how, where and when it
pleases.” Another line states that it is
in the second year of its publication.
The bitterness of this paper is shown
in a standing line carried at the head
of its editorials, referring to the Ger
mans as “barbarians and liars always."
A recent number showed the Germans
"en route for Calais" by way of the
Yser river, with the bodies of German
soldiers slaughtered by the Belgians,
floating in the river.
L’Echo, another of the secret jour
nals, announces that it prints "what
censored Journals dare not and cannot
say.” A recent number gave the speech
of Premier Asquith in the house of
commons, declaring there would be no
peace until Belgium was free. The edi
torial was headed: “Teuton Pirates
and Vandals.”
Other secret newspapers are La Ver
lte and the Flemish Lion. There is also
a Weekly Review of the French Press,
giving articles which have been pro
hibited from being published in Bel
gium. Illustrated books also continue
to appear, with handsome engravings
and colored maps, giving the Belgian
story as against the German.
Even a secret press bureau has been
set up at Brussels, which issues type
written sheets comparing favorably
with those from the official press bu
reau at Paris and London. The editing
is well done, showing that there must
be capable men to gather the material
and put it in shape. The sheets, me
chanically, are even better than those
Issued at Paris and London, showing
there must be a large and first class
duplicating process somewhere beyond
the power of the Germans to discover.
The Belgian officials themselves do
not know how this work Is done, and it
Is simply incomprehensible how all this
editing, publishing, printing, circulat
ing, getting the requisite white paper
and ink, drawing cartoons, engraving
and lithographing, and all the innum
erable details of getting out newspa
pers, weeklies, books and a press ser
vice, can be accomplished ini secret with
the German police straining every nerve
and offering prices on the heads of ed
itors. It takes courage and ingenuity
to be an editor in Belgium under these
conditions.
Great American Porcelain.
Hazel H. Adler In the Ctentury.
In 1911 an American woman, Ade
laide Aisop RoBlneau, sent an exquisite
collection of high-fire porcelains to the
International exposition in Turin, Italy,
where they were awarded the grand
prize, the highest award that could be
given, and against the best modern
porcelain manufactories in the world.
In recognition of her gTeat contribu
tion to the ceramic art of the world,
both France and Italy awarded her the
highest honors in their power, and yet
her work in this country is unglorified
and unknown, and some of the rarest
pieces for which collectors hereafter
will pay fabulous sums have had to be
sacrificed to provide- for the bare means,
of sustenance.
In may not be in accordance withi
the democratic principles of this coun
try to achieve a Sevres, a Gobelin, or a
Dresden, and so far certainly the na
tional govern ment has been more inter
ested in the raleing of pigs than in the
making of porcelains, but it Is high,
time that our manufacturers awaken ta
the economic significance of the Ameri
can craftsman and undertake that pub
lic spirited recognition and intelligent
utilization of his powers which raised
Germany’s art products from a posi
tion of scorn to the conquest of the
markets of the world.
Couldn't Get a Drink Ther^
From the Pittsburgh Dispatch.
Daniel D. Moore, editor and manager
of the New Orleans Titnss-Pieayune,
breezed into the McAlpia. Ro/ore he
had time to register he bad to,listen to
a knock on his home town. He was
greeted by a traveling man.
"That's a lough burg bf yours,"
sai' he.
What’s the Double?" asked Mr.
Moore.
' Why, a fellow t an’t get. a drink there.
My tongue waa hanging out,” said the
true eitng man.
Mr. Moftt perked up Me ears. ‘“That’s
arrange,” said he. “Nett Orleans la a
wld-t fipep town.”
' That'* the Rouble,” maid the travel
er “the saloons are -so crowded one
I * an not get near th»,mahogany.”
F E PILLS SQUARE
EAL, INVENTOR SAYS
Dixon Warner, of Los Angele3r
Claims He Has Devised
Proper Food.
New York—There Is a guest at the
tValdorf who wouldn't care if the chef
retired to his farm tomorrow. He is
Adam Dixon Warner, of Los Angeles,
and he arrived yesterday carrying in
Ids suit case enough provisions to last
him two months. Ho is his own cook
ind never has to wash a dish.
Since his youthful days in a Wis
consin lumber camp cooking has been
Mr. Warner’s ruling passion. In his
first season in the woods he learned
that the peavey man who labored all
day in icy water received only $40 a
month, while the cookce who traveled
like a lord in his wanigan drew down
$125.
Mr. Warner resolved to be a coolcee.
The next season he was. to the de
light of himself and the camp. With
th epasslng of the pine he drifted
west. He was admitted to the bar,
made- $20,000 a year, became promi
nent in politics, grew intimate with
William Jennings Bryan and told J.
Ham Lewis the latest barber shop
jokes.
But in his spare moments the aroma
of beans or coffee would send him
harking back to his wanigan days in
Wisconsin woods. Even William Jen
nings and J. Ham noticed something
wrong. It was a critical moment for
Adam Dixon Warner and the world in
general when he nearly became a con
gressman. If he had the world might
never have seen the perfect ration.
Forsaking home and friends and
forgetting politics, in which he had
already won the title of "Silver Dick”
because of the admiration he inspired
in Mr. Bryan, Warner hired a labora
tory and a -chemist. For 12 months
he and the chemist cooked.
At the end of that time they had
evolved the perfect ration. Warner
wasn’t sure of it until he tried it on
his motherinlaw.
“Adam, it’s just perfect," she said.
The ration comes in lumps, about
the size and shape of chocolate drops.
Five make a meal. Each contains 'w
wheat, corn, oats, rice, lentils, beans. V
peanuts, walnuts, olives, grapefruit, ~
oranges, raisins, figs, prunes, pineap
ple, asparagus, spinach, lettuce, onions,
carrots and celery.
Mr. Warrer Is a vegetarian, but he
says ne will concoct a special euuion
of the ration for a Thanksgiving din
ner.
Nature and the Artist.
Augusta Rodin, in the Century.
“Sincerity, conscience—these are the
true bases of thought in the work of
an artist; but whenever the artist at
tains to a certain facility of expres
sion, too often he is wont to replace
conscience with skill. The reign of skill
is the ruin of art. It is an organized
falsehood. Sincerity with one fault, in
deed with many faults, still preserves
its integrity. The facility that believes
that it has no faults has them all. The 1
primitives, who ignored the laws of '
perspective, nevertheless created great
works of art because they brought to
them absolute sincerity. Look at this
Persian miniature, the admirable rev
erence of this illuminator for the form
of these plants and animals, and the
attitudes of these persons which he has
forced himself to render just as he saw
them. How eagerly has he painted
that, this man who loved it all! Do
you tell me that his work is bad be
cause he is ignorant of the laws of
perspective? And the great French
primitives and the Roman architects
and sculptors! Has it not been repeat
edly said that their style is a barbaric
style? On the contrary, it has a for
midable beauty. It breathes the sacred
awe of those who have been impressed
by the great works of nature herself. It
offers us the strongest proof that these
men had made themselves part of life
anfl also a part of its mystery.
“To express life it is necessary to de
sire to express it. The art of statuary
Is made up of conscience, precision and
will. If I had not had tenacity of pur
pose, if I had ceased to make my re
searches, the book of nature would
have been for me a dead letter, or at
!east it would have withheld from me
Its meaning. Now, on the contrary, it
Is a book that is constantly renewed,
and I go to it, knowing well that I have
only spelled out certain pages. In art
to admit only that which one compre
hends leads to impotence. Nature re
mains full of unknown forces. When
we- surrender ourselves to her without
reservation, she shows us these- forces*
she lends them to us.”
Art and Happiness.
Auguste Rodin, in* the Century.
Ant alone gives happiness. And!
I call* art the study o£ nature,, the per
petual communion with her through*
the spirit of analysis.
He who knows how to see and feel
may and everywhere and always things
to aihnire. He who knows how to see
and feel is preserved, from ennui, that
bete noire of modern, society. He wilo
sees and feels deeply never , lacks the
desire to express his feelings, to be an
artist- Is not nature the source of. ail
beauty? Is she not the only creator?
it is only by drawing near to her. that
the artist can bring back to us all* that
she has revealed to him.
When one says that, the nubile
thinks it a commonplace. Ail the world
believes that it knows that; but it
knows it only in seeming, the- truth
penetrates only the superficial shell of
Its intelligence. There are so many
degrees In real comprehension;. Com
prehension Is like a divine laddan. Only
bo who has reached the top nomads lias
a view of the world. The public ls,aston
i«b.id or shocked, when some ojae goes
against its preconceived -aot ions,
against the prejudices of a badly in
terpreted or. degenerate tradition.
Words are nothing; the deed alone,
rounts. It is, aot by readiitg manuals,
af esthetics,, but by leaning cui nature,
herself that.the -artist discovers and ex- j
presses beauty. -f
Alas! wt are not prsnjamsd to se»
and. to feel. Our solry, education, lair
from cultivating In usl the feeling loir
enthusiasm* makes us 3b our youth Vti
tle pedants who without result over
whelm. ourselve3 and others with our
pretensions. Those who too late., by r
long eflfoits, escape this demon of jolly
arrive- only after that education haa
fatally sapped their strength airl tigs
destroyed the flower of enthusiasm
that God had planted in them as a sign
of His paradise. People without enthu
al*sm are Mke» men who carry their
flags pointed down to the ground in
stead tof proudly above their baads.
Political Posters Prohibited.
Political candidates have been informed
through a recent issue of Klectric Rail way
Service, the company publication of the
Detroit (Mich.) United Railway, that they —
will save considerable In their m-hitlnj 1*
bills If they will anriour.ee to their work- ,
brs not to attempt to place cards, rosters
and such stuff on the property of the com
pany, says the Kleetrlc Rati way journal,
instructions have been issued that political
advertising mu ter must not hj posted or
distributed, r.r.d If posted unknown to offl.
clals cf the company If will be torn dowrj
and destroyed as soon ts discovered ,
