m MRS. BOYD
AVO DEO AN
OPERATION
Canton, Ohio.—“I suffered from a
female trouble which caused me much
-suffering, and two
doctors decided
that I would have
to go through an
operation before I
could get well.
“Mymother, who
had ijeen helped by
Lydia E. Pi nkham 'a
Vegetable Com
pound, advised me
, to try it before su b
mitting to an opera
tion. It relieved me
from my troubles
so I can do my house work without any
difficulty. I advise any woman who is
afflicted with female troubles to give
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com
pound a trial and it will do os much for
them.”—Mrs. Marie Boyd, 1421 6th
St., N. E., Canton, Ohio. ■
Sometimes there ase serious condi
tions where a hospital operation is the
only alternative, but on the other hand
so many women have been cured by this
famous root, and herb remedy, Lydia E.
Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound, after
doctors have said that an operation was
necessary — every woman who wanta
to avoid an operation should give it a
fair trial before submitting to such a
trying ordeal.
If complications exist, write to Lydia
E. Pinkham Medicine Co., Lynn, Maas.,
for advice. The result of many years
experience is at your service.
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KEROSENE LAMPS IN INDIA
Illuminating Agencies Used in Smaller
Cities Were Originally Imported
From the United States.
India is making slow hut steady
progress In introducing more modern
lighting methods, Popular Science
Monthly states. All public lighting in
the large cities of India is by elec
tricity; hut In tlie smaller cities the
methods of lighting, public as well
us private, are still very primitive.
For native festivals—and there are
a great many of these—large kerosene
lamps of an elaborate pattern are
much used. They are known in many
localities as “Washington lights” and
were originally brought to India from
the United States. At various relig
ious processions and especially at wed
ding processions as many as 20 or
UO of these lamps are carried on the
heads of bearers, who are engaged for
the occasion and paid a fixed fee.
These lamps are high-pressure kero
sene lamps constructed upou the prin
ciple of the kerosene torches used in
the United States. The light is pro
tected by a mica chimney and is very
brilliant. Colored globes are some
times used. These lamps are no long
er imported front the United States,
but arc manufactured itt Bombay. The
‘‘Bombay lights" cost about $5 or $0,
while tiie imported kind cannot be
bought for less flian $65 apiece.
Nothing to Do but Walt.
Jones was a raw recruit just arrived.
The second day of his army life he
has put on the picket line grooming
horses. The stable sergeant, having
given the command to groom, sauntered
around to see how the work was pro
gressing. He found Jones with an
anxious and expectant look on his face.
“Well, Jones, have you groomed your
horse?”
“Yes, sir,” lie replied obediently.
“Have you cleaned out his hoofs?”
Jones hesitated.
“No, sir—lie's been standing on them
sir, nml I’ve waited over ten minutes
for him to lie down.’’—Judge.
Logical.
“There is something funny about
that bill."
"Naturally, it has a joker In it.”
Autocracy begins where anarchy
ends.
L —— —.
■■_
THE
J TEETH OF THE TIGER
V by J
MAURICE LEBLANC
TRANSLATED BY
ALEXANDER TE1XEIRA DE MATT09
CHAPTER NINE, (Continuer.)
The hum of the engine and the
sighing of the trees, which bent
down at the approach, he mur
mured incoherent words. The rec
ollection of the two lovers clasped
in each other’s arms made him cry
aloud with jealousy. He wanted
to be rtjycnged. For the first time
in his life, the longing, the fever
ish craving to kill set his brain
boiling.
“Hang it all!” he growled sud
denly. “The engine’s misfiring!
Mazeroux! Mazeroux!”
“What, chief! Did you know
I was here!” exclaimed Mazeroux,
emerging from the shadow in
which he sat hidden.
“You jackass! Do you think
that the first idiot who comes
along can hang on to the foot
board of my ear without my know
ing it t You must be feeling com
fortable down there!”
“I’m suffering agonies, and
I’m shivering with cold.”
“That’8 right, it’ll teach you.
Tell me, where did you buy your
petrol!”
“At the grocer’s.”
“At a thief’s, you mean. It’s
muck. The plugs are getting
■ooted up.”
“Arc you sure!”
“Can’t you hear the misfiring,
you fool”
The motor, indeed, at moments
seemed to hesitate. Then every
thing became normal again. Don
Luis forced the pace. Going down
hill they appeared to be hurling
themselves into space. One of the
lamps went ouf. The other was
not bright as usual. But noth
ing diminished Don Lui’s ardor.
There was more misfiring, fresh
hesitations, followed by efforts,
as though tho engine was pluck
ily striving to do its duty. And
then suddenly came the final fail
ure, a dead stop at the side of the
road, a stupid breakdown.
“Confound it!” roared Don
Lute. “We’re stuck! Oh, this is
the last straw! ’ ’
“Come, chief, we’ll put it right.
And we’ll pick up Sauverand at
Paris instead of Chartres, that’s
all.”
“You infernal ass! The repairs
will take an hour! And then
she’ll break down again. It’s not
petrol, it’s filth they’ve foisted on
you.”
The country stretched around
them to endless distances, with no
other lights than the stars that
riddled the darkness of the sky.
Don Luis was stamping with
fury. lie would have liked to
kicked the motor to pieces. He
would have liked
It was Mazeroux who “caught
It,” in the hapless sergeant’s own
words. Don Luis took him by the
shoulders, shook him, loaded him
with insults and abuse, and, fin
ally, pushing him against the
roadside hank and holding him
there, said, in a broken voice of
mingled hatred and sorrow.
“It’s she, do you hoar, Maze
roux! it’s Sauverand’s com
panion who has done everything.
I’m telling you now, because I'm
afraid of relenting. Yes, I am a
weak coward. She has such a
grave face, with the eyes of a
child. But it’s she, Mazeroux.
She lives in my house. Remem
ber her name: Flaurenco Levas
seur. You’ll arrest her, won’t
you! I might not be able to. My
courage fails me when I look at
her. Tho fact is that I have never
loved before.
“There have been other women
—but no, those were fleeting
fancies—not even that: I don’t
iven remember the past! Whereas
Florence-! You must arsest
her, Mazeroux. You must deliver
me from her eyes. They burn into
me like poison. If you don’t de
liver mo I shall kill her as I killed
Dolores—or else they will kill me
>—or-Oh, I don’t know all the
ideas that are driving me wild—
“You see, there’s another
man,” he exclaimed. “There’s
Sauverand, whom she loves. Oh
the infamous pair! They, have
killed Fauvitle and the boy am
old Lungernault and those two ir
the barn and others besides: Cos
mo Mornington, Verot, and mort
still. They are monsters, she mos1
of all- And if you saw he:
eyes-”
He spoke so low that Mazerou)
i a
could hardly hear him. Te had let
go his hold of Mazeroux and
seemed utterly cast down with
despair, a surprising symptom in
a man of his amazing vigor and
authority.
“Come, chief,” said the ser
geant, helping him up. “This is
all stuff and nonsense. Trouble
with women: I’ve had it like ev
erybody else. Mme. Mazeroux—
yes, I got married while you were
away — Mme. Mazeroux turned
out badly herself, gave me the
devil of a time, Mme. Mazeroux
did. I’ll tell you all about it,
chief, how Mme. Mazeroux re
warded my kindness.”
He led Don Luis gently to the
car and settled him on the front
seat.
“Take a rest, chief. It’s not
very cold and there are plenty of
furs. The first peasant that comes
along at daybreak, I’ll send him
to the next town for what we
want—and for food, too, for I’m
starving. And everything will
come right; it always does with
women. All you have to do is to
kick them out of your life—ex
cept when the anticipate you and
kick themselves out. * * * I
was going to tell you: Mme. Maze
roux-”
Don Luis was never to learn
what had happened with Mme.
Mazeroux. . The most violent,'
catastrophies had no effect upon
the peacefulness of his slumbers.
He was asleep almost at once
It was late in the morning w'hen
he woke up. Mazeroux had had
to wait till 7 o’clock before he
could hail a cyclist on his_way to
Chartres.
They made a start at 9 o’clock.
Don Luis had recovered all his
oolness. He turned to his ser
geant.
“I said a lot last night that I
did not mean to say. However, I
don’t regret it. Yes, it is my duty
to do everything to save Mme.
Fauville and to catch the real cul
prit. Only the task falls upon my
self ; and I swear that I shan’t fail
in it. This evening Florence
Levasseur shall sleep in the lock
up ! ’ ’
“I’ll help you, chief,” replied
Mazeroux, in a queer tone of
voice.
“I need nobody’s help. If you
touch a single hair of her head,
I’ll do for you. Do you under
stand?”
“Yes, chief.”
“Then hold your tongue.”
His anger was slowly returning
and expressed itself in an in
crease of speed, which seemed to
Mazeroux a revenge executed up
on himself. They raced over the
coble stones of Chartres. Rambou
illet, Chevreuse and Versailles re
ceived the terrifying vision of a
thunderbolt tearing across them
from end to end.
Saint Cloud. The Bois de
Boulogne * * *
On the Place de la Concorde, as
the motor was turning toward the
Tuileries, Mazeroux objected:
“Aren’t you going home,
chief?”
“No. There’s something more
urgent first: we must relieve
Marie Fauville of her suicidal ob
session by leiting her know that
we have discovered the crim
inals.”
“ Andthen?”
“Then I want to see the prefect
of police.”
“M. Desmalions is away and
won’t be back till this after
noon.”
uIn that ease the examining
magistrate.”
“He doesn’t get to the law
courts till 12; and it’s only 11
now.”
“We’ll see.”
Mazeroux was right: there was
no one at the law courts.
Don Luis lunched somewdiere
close by; and Mazeroux, after
calling at the detective office,
came to fetch him and took him
to the magistrate’s corridor. Don
Luis’s excitement, his extraordi
nary restlessness, did not fail to
strike Mazeroux, who asked:
“Are you still of the same mind,
chief”
“More than ever. I looked
■ through the newspapers at lunch.
Marie Fauville, who was sent to
: the infirmary after her second at
tempt, has again tried to kill her
self by banging her head against
the wall of the room. They have
put a straight jacket on her. But
she is refusing all food. It is my
duty to savo her.”
“How?”
“By handing over the real
criminal. I shall inform the mag
istrate in charge of the case; and
this evening I shall bring you
Florence Levasseur dead or
alive.”
“And Sauverand?” •
“Sauvcrartd? That won’t take
long. Unless-”
“Unless what?”
“Unless I settle his business
myself, the miscreant!”
“Chief!”
“Oh, dry up!”
There were some reporters near
them waiting for particulars. He
recognized them and went up to
them.
“You can say, gentlemen, that
from today I am taking up the de
fense of Marie Fauville and de
voting myself entirely to her
cause.”
They all protested: was it not
he who had had Mme Fauville ar
rested? Was it not he who had col
lected a heap of convicting proofs
against her?
“I shall demolish those proofs
one by one,” he said. “Marie Fau
ville is the victim of wretches who
have hatched the most diabolical
plot against her, and whom I am
about to deliver up to justice.”
‘ ‘ But the teeth! The marks of
the teeth!”
“A coincidence! An unparal
leled coincidence, but one which
now strikes me as a most powerful
proof of innocence. I tell you
that, if Marie Fauville had been
clever enough to commit all those
murders, she would also have been
clever enough not to leave behind
her a fruit bearing the marks of
her two rows of teeth.”
“But still-”
“She js innocent! And that is
what I am going to tell the ex
amining magistrate. She must be
informed of the efforts that are
being made in her favor. She must
be given hope at once. If not, the
poor thing will kill herself and
hen. death will be on the con
science of all who accused an in
nocent woman. She must——”
At that moment he interrupted
himself. His eyes w?re fixed on
one of the journalists who was
standing a little way off listening
to him and taking notes.
He whispered to Mazeroux:
“Could you manage to find out
that beggar’s name? I can’t re
member where on earth I’ve seen
him before.”
But an usher now opened the
door of the examining magistrate,
who, on receiving Don Perenna’s
card, had asked to see him at
once. He stepped forward and
was about to enter the room with
Mazeroux, when he suddenly
turned to his companion with a
cry of rage:
“It’s he! It was Sauverand in
disguise. Stop him! He’s made
off. Run, can’t you?”
He himself darted away fol
lowed by Mazeroux and a number
of warders and journalists. He
soon outdistanced them, so that,
three minutes later, he heard no
one more behind him. He had
rushed down the staircase of the
“Mousetrap,” and through the
subway leading from one court
yard to the other. Here two peo
ple told him that they had met a
man walking at a smart pace.
The track was a false one. He
became aware of this, hunted
about, lost a good deal of time,
and managed to discover that
Sauverand had left by the Boule
vard du Palais and joined a very
pretty, fair haired woman—Flor
ence Levasseur, obviously—on the
tJuai de l’Horloge. They had both
got into the motor bus that runs
from tlje Place Caint-Michel to
the Gare Saint-Lazare.
Don Luis went back to a lonely
little street where he had left his
car in the charge of a boy. He
set the engine going and drove at
full speed to the Gare Saint
Lazare. From the omnibus shelter
he went off on a fresh track which
also proved to be wrong, lost quite
another hour, returned to the ter
minus, and ended by learning for
certain that Florence had stepped
by herself into a motor bus which
would take her toward the Place
du Palais-Bourbon. Contrary to
all expectations, therefore, the
girl must have gone home.
The thought of seeing her again
roused his anger to its highest
pitch. All the way down the Rue
Royale and across the Place de la
Concorde he kept blurting out
[words of revenge and threats
j which he was itching to carry out
I He would abuse Florence. He
! would sting her with his insults
He felt a bitter and painful need
to hurt the odious creature.
But on reaching the Place dii
Palais-Bourbon he pulled up short
llis practiced eye had counted al
| a glance, on the right and left, a
half dozen men whose professional
look there was no mistaking. And
Mazeroux, who had caught sight
I of him, had spun round on his heel
and was hiding under a gateway.
He called him:
“Alazeroux!”
The sergeant appeared greatly
surprised to hear his name and
came up to the car.
“Hullo, the chief!”
His face expressed such embar
rassment that Don Luis felt his
fears taking definite shape.
“Look here, is it for me that
you and your men are hanging
about outside of my house?”
“There’s a notion, chief,” re
plied Mazeroux, looking very un
comfortable. “You know that
you’re in favor all right!”
Don Luis gave a start. He un
derstood. Mazeroux had be
trayed his confidence. To obey his
scruples of conscience as well as
to rescue the chief from the dan
gers of a fatal passion, Mazeroqx
had denounced Florence Levas
seur.
Perenna clenched his fists in
an effort of his whole being to
stifle his boiling rage. It was a
terrible blow. He received a sud
den intuition of all the blunders
which his mad jealousy had made
him commit since the clay before,
and a presentiment of the irre
parable disasters that might re
sult from them. The conduct of
events was slipping from him.
“Have you the warrant?” he
asked.
Mazeroux spluttered:
“It was quite by accident. I
met the prefect, who was back.
We spoke of the young lady’s
business. And, as it happened,
they had discovered that the pho
tograph—you know, the photo
graph of Florence Levasseur
which the prefect lent you—well,
they have discovered that you
faked it. And then when I men
tioned the name of Florence, the
prefect remembered that that was
the name.”
“Have you the warrant?” Don
Luis repeated, in a harsher tone.
“Well, you see, 1 couldn’t help
it. * * * M. Desmalions, the
magistrate
If the Place du Palais-Bourbon
had been deserted at that moment,
Don Luis would certainly have re
lieved himself by a swinging blow
administered to Mazeroux's chin
according to the most scientific
rules of the noble art. And Maze
rouz foresaw this contingency, for
he prudently kept as far away as
possible and, to appease the
chief’s anger, intoned a whole lit
any of excuses:
“It was for your good, chief.
* * * I had to do it * * * Only
think! You yourself told me: ‘Rid
me of the creature!’ said you. ‘I’m
too weak. You'll arrest her, won’t
you? Her eyes burn into me—
like poison!’ Well, chief, could I
help it? No, I couldn’t could I?
Especially as the deputy chief—”
“Ah! So Weber knows?”
“Why, yes! The prefect is a
little suspicious of you since he
understood about the faking of
the portrait. So M. Weber is com
ing back in an hour, perhaps, with
reinforcements. Well, I was say
ing, the deputy chief had learnt
thdt the woman who used to go to
Gaston Sauverand’s at Neuilly—
you know, the house on the Boule
vard Richard-Wailace—was fair
and very good looking, and that
her name was Florence. She even
used to stay the night sometimes.”
“You lie! You lie!” hissed Per
enna.
All his spite was reviving. He
had been pursuing Florence with
intentions which it would have
been difficult for him to put into
words. And now suddenly he
again wanted to destroy her; and
this time consciously. In reality
he no longer knew what he was
doing. He was acting at haphaz
ard, tossed about in turns by the
most diverse passions, a prey to
thal inordinate love which impels
us as readily to kill the object of
our affections as to die in an at
tempt to save her.
A newsboy passed with a special
edition of the Paris-Midi, showing
in great block letters:
| SENSATIONAL DECLARATION BV
DON LUIS PERENNA.
MME. FAUVILLE IS INNOCENT.
IMMINENT ARREST OF THE TWO
CRIMINALS.
“Yes, yes,” he said aloud. “The
drama is drawing to an end. Flor
ence is about to pay her debt to
society. So much the worse for
her.”
He started his car again and
drove through the gate. In the
courtyard he said to his chauf
feur, who came up:
“Turn her round and don’t put
her up. I may be starting again
at any moment.”
He sprang out and asked the
butler:
“Is Mile. Levasseur in?”
“Yes, sir, she’s in her room.”
(Continued Next Week.)
EXPERT’S TRIBUTE TO
WESTERN CANADA SOIL *
That there !s good reason for tha
wonderful crops of grain grown in
Western Canada, which have made
thousands of former residents of the
United States wealthy, is not always
given the thought that it deserves is
quite apparent. But that there must
be a reason is quite evident. Proba
bly more than one—but the one that
requires emphasis—is that the soil is
of the nature that will produce goodU’*'"^
crops. It was not long since that
farmer selected his land in the most
haphazard way. He need not do so
today. He will select it on the soil
analysis plan. Soil from Western
Canada was submitted to Prof. Siev
ens, soil physicist of the State College
of Washington, at Pullman, Wash. His
report should no doubt further encour
age settlement in Western Canada. It
reads as follows:
“We have analyzed this sample and
find that it runs high in lime, very
high in potash, phosphorus and in ni
trogen ; that it has a splendid supply
of organic matter and is In the best
of physical condition. There is noth
ing wrong with this soil from the
standpoint of crop production, and I
am satisfied that it will give splendid
results wherever put under cultiva
tion.”
It is soil like this properly worked,
and on scientific lines, as is the
rule today, that gives the opportunity
to quote the experiences of farmers
who have increased their incomes
from $500 to $30,000 In two seasons,
and whose story would read ns fol
lows :
“I have threshed altogether 7,000
bushels of No. 1 Northern wheat froTK
200 acres, which went from 24 to 56
per acre—sod breaking 24, spring
plowing 36, back setting 56 bushels—
the average being 35 bushels per acre.”
The newspaper giving an account of
this man’s experience says: “When he
disposed of his 1,600 acres from north
of Brooks, Alta, to four Oak Harbor
men, he was worth $30,000. Two years
ago he came here with $500 and a few
horses.” > -*■
It is rhe soil of Western Canada,
and the knowledge of what it will do
that brings to Canada the hundreds of
settlers that are daily arriving at the
border. A growing enthusiasm for the
fertile prairie lands of Western Can
ada is spreading all over the continent.
This enthusiasm Is the recognition of
the fact that sufficient food could be
produced on these prairie lands to
feed the world. From the south, east
and west, hundreds of men, too old for
military service, are pouring into\
Western Canada to take up land or
to work on the farms. A great many X^
of the incoming settlers have arrived 1
at such central points as Calgary, Ed
monton, and Lethbridge, Alberta, and
at Regina, Moose Jaw, and Saskatoon,
Saskatchewan. Judging from the bulk
of their household effects, the number
of their horses and cattle, and the £
quantity of implements they are bring- ^
ing with them, most of the new ar
rivals also seem well blessed with the
world’s goods.
Reports from North Portal, Sas
katchewan ; Coutts, Alberta, and ICings
gate, British Columbia—the principal
gateways into Western Canada from
the United States—Indicate that the
present influx of farmers is in such
volume as has not been witnessed for
many years. From Vancouver, Brit
ish Columbia, people are going to the
prairies for summer farm work, many ,■
with the Intention of taking up land 'r
themselves at the end of the summer./'
The influence of this tide of farmer
settlers on greater food production witl
be more readily appreciated when it
is considered that the average settler
takes up at least twice as much land
as he has hitherto been farming—and
land which, acre for acre, produces bet
ter and larger crops.—Advertisement
Zone of Quiet.
The blnck-whiskered, unkempt
stranger bad been wandering about
for some time watching the swarm ef
workmen engaged on the Tower of
Babel.
“How quiet and orderly everything
is here,” he remarked to one of the
foremen.
“How’s that?” asked the foreman,
eyeing him sharply.
“I soy,” repeated the stranger,
“how quiet and orderly everything is
here. Everything running along
smoothly, no disturbances, everybody
doing just what should be done, at ^
just tiie right time. Such an ensy
mnning place, this.”
“Say, where are you from?”
“Oli, me? Why, I just dropped over
from I’etrograd.”
Soothe Itching Skins
With Cutieurn. Bathe with Cutieur*
Soap and hot water, dry and apply the
Ointment. This usually affords relief
and points to speedy heniment. For
free samples address, “Cuticura, Dept.
X, Boston.” At druggists and by mail.
Soap 25, Ointment 25 and 50.—Adv.
Protection.
“I see .they are repairing the roof
of your bank.”
“And a good idea, forsooth. There’a
where I keep my stuff for a rainy
day."
It sometimes happens that n foolish
woman mistakes her disagreeable dis
position for a proud spirit.
When Your Eyes Need Care
Try Murine Eye Remedy
Ho Smarting —Just Bye Comfort. 60 cent* at
Druggist* or mail. Write for Free Hyo Boot.
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