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Yale Uec ord. VVh.it Johriy Meant. “Next hoy!" exclaimed the teacher. "t an you give a simile ti I he word ‘maiden'?" “Yes, miss," responded .Johnny Summers. “A maiden Is like elder." “Very good, Johnny. You see, hoys." explained the teacher, who was of un certain age and Irascible disposition. “Johnny means that a maiden is sweet." "Yes,” broke in Johnny, "and grows sour with old r.ge." Sparing Their Feeling. “Why do you call this tiro a 'con flagration?" asked the crusty city edi tor. “According to your story the damage done didn't amount to $j,000.” “There were fully 10,000 people present to watch it," said the facetious reporter. “Well?" “I didn't want to make It appear that they were wasting their valuable time."-Birmingham Age-Herald. Best Plan. “Did you nail the lie?" “Yes, after I had hammered the liar." MlllUflllllinillllfllllllllllllliluiimimniiiiiiiiiititu EMPEROR FRIEND OF LOWLY Napoleon III Declared to Have Had Genuine Regard for the Humbler of His Subjects. The friendly feeling of Napoleon III for the tollers Is dwelt upon by Agnes Carey in her “An Empress In Exile,” in tl;e Century magazine, and she gives as her authority Empress Eu genie, wife of the Inst of the em perors. ‘‘Whatever his failings to ward her hud been," the author says, “she professed a warm admiration of bis love of hard work, bis pluek and bis great kindness of heart and thoughtfulness for every one. The emperor genuinely loved the poor and humble among Ids subjects, with no I bought of policy. He was too good and generous for Ids people's under standing. Had hi1 boon tyrannical and made use of (hem and trampled i hem down like some other sovereigns, they would have behaved better to ward him, she (Eugenie) said. “Napoleon was a dreamer and spent much of his time to the serious thinking out of schemes for the bene fit of Ids people, and all mankind. Ilis life's ambition was to better their | lot. Tie bad great magnetism, espe cially Willi the working classes. The empress charmed every stranger, but the emperor was really more personal ly and deeply loved by Iiis entourage than was bis consort." What She Preferred. Of the wit of Miss Marie Tempest, who Is paying London a visit, many stories have been told. This Is one of the latest. At a party some one mentioned In Iter presence that a certain girl who bad refused an earl bad recently mar ried a very wealthy yoting manufac turer. "Oh.” said Miss Tempest, without a moment's hesitation, “she very wisely preferred a business plant to a family tree." Paradoxical Requiting. “Why did you turn your late guest out?" "Because lie took me In." “That was a rare feat.” “Sure, ami it was also well done.”— Baltimore American. I i | HadeFr^^^VeGrains 1 | Grape=Nuts | Ii Rich and Nourishing | A blend of wheat and malted ban> ley that costs but little.yet pro vides a food of most attractive flavor, ready to serve direct from the package. Grape-Nuts Needs No Sugar j MMwmwiiimHiimMmimitiHiii-iwiififimiinmmiiiiiimnttHitmiiiitiHiiHinmiwittfiiiMmitw ' — * • * **•••• >«4M ( THE MARK OF CAIN ) ^ ^ Copyright^l917^by jT^Llpplncott Co. ^ At last they heard steps oat side, and they knew Rowland Trowbridge was being brought into his house for the last time. Judge Hoyt came in first and kept the two women in the draw ing-room while the bearers took their tragic burden up to Mr. Trowbridge’s own room. Shortly afterward Doctor Fulton came down. “Mr. Trowbridge was mur-j dered,” he said briefly. “Stabbed with a dagger. He has been dead five or six hours now. Perhaps more.” “Who did it?” cried Avice, looking more like an avenging angel than a grief-stricken girl. “They have no idea. The coro ner must try to determine that.” “The coroner!” exclaimed MrsSJila.ck in horror. „ . _ _ Ayjce turjied on Tier. “Yes coroner,’7 she sSldf ‘‘.how else can we find out who killed Uncle Rowly, and punish him,—and kill him!” Every one stared at Avice. The policeman in the hall looked in at the doorway, as her ring ing tones reached^him. The girl was greatly excited and her eyes blazed like stars. But she stood quietly, and spoke with re pressed force. “ What is the first thing to do?” she said, turning to Doctor Fulton, and then glancing past him to the policeman in the door way. “Wait, Avice, wait,” put in Leslie Hoyt; “let us consider a moment.” “There is nothing to be con sidered, Leslie. Uncle is dead. We must discover who killed him. We must get the best de tectives, and we must never rest until we have brought the villain to justice.” ( ui course, oi course, Avice, said Mrs. Black, soothingly, “but we can’t hurry so, child.” “We must hurry! It is only by beginning at once that we can find clues and things. Delay means opportunity for the crimi nal to escape!” Hoyt and Doctor Fulton looked at the girl in amazement. Where had she learned these terms that fell so readily from her tongue? “She is right,” said Judge II»yt, sadly. “There must be no unnecessary Ijelay in these matters. But the law moves slowly, at best. Everything pos sible wil Ibe done, Avice; you may rest assured of that. The coroner is upstairs now, and when he comes down he will want to talk with you. You won’t object.” “Indeed, no. I want to see him. Why, on^y think, I know nothing,—nothing, as yet, as to how Uncle Rowly met his death!” CHAPTER II. Who Conld Have Done It? Coroner Berg came down stairs and joined the group in the drawing-room. He was a brist ling, fussy little man, with a de cided sense of his own import ance and evidently inclined to make much of his office. Ilis sparse, sandy hair stood out straight from his head, and his light blue eyes darted from one to another of the impatient peo ple awaiting his report, i “Sad ease,” he said, wringing his hands; “very sad case. Fine man like that, struck down in the ! prime of life. Awful!” ; “We know that,” and Avice : looked annoyed at what she I thought intrusive sympathy. | “But who did it? What have i you found out?” Very little, Miss, answered Berg. “Your uncle was killed by a dagger thrust, while up in Van Cortlandt Park woods. His body was found in a lonely spot up there, and there is no trace of the murderer, The police were informed of the murder by tele phone, which is a mighty queer performance if you ask me! They say a Dago woman called up headquarters and told the story.” “Extraordinary!” said Hoyt; “an Italian?” “Yes, sir; they say she sound ed like one, anyhow.” “And a dagger or stiletto was used,” said Doctor Fulton, thoughtfully; “that looks like Italian work. Had your uncle any Italian enemies, Miss Trow bridge?” “Not that I know of,” and Avice spoke a little impatiently; “but uncle had no enemies that 2 I know of. At least, none who would kill him.” “He had enemies, thenl” spoke up the coroner, alertly. “Uncle Rowly was not^ an easy-going man. He had many acquaintances with whom he was not on terms of friendship. But I’m sure none of his quar rels were grave enough to lead to this.” “But somebody committed the crime, Miss Trowbridge, and who so likely as a known enemy! Tell me any of your uncle’s un friendly acquaintances.” “Positively no one, Mr. Berg, who could be in the least sus pected. I’m thinking of such men as Judge Greer, who holds ‘political views opposed to those St my uncle. .And Professor Meredith, whojs an enthusiastic naturalist, but who disagrees with my uncle in some o^\their classifications. As you sec,'these are not sufficient grounds for killing a man.” “Of course, not,” said Hoyt. “I know these men, and their relations with Mr. Trowbridge were really friendly, though dif fering opinions frequently led to quarrels. Mr. Trowbridge was quick-tempered and often said sh#irp things, which he for got as quickly as he uttered them.” “Yes, he did,” corroborated Avice. “Why, he sometimes scolded me, and soon after was sunny and sweet again. No, I’m sure Uncle Rowland had no real enemies, surely none that would seek his death. And the fact that an Ttalian woman gave the message proves to my mind that he was struck down by some horrid Italian society,—Black Hand, or whatever they call it.” “That remains to be seen,” said Berg, with an air of import ance. “I shall conduct an in quest tomorrow morning. It is too late to get at it tonight, and too, 1 want to collect a little more evidence.” ‘ Where do yon get evidence, Mr. Berg,” asked Avice, eager interest and curiosity shining in her brown eyes. ‘‘Wherever I may pick it up. I must question the police fur ther and I must endeavor to trace that telephone call, though that is a hard matter usually. Then, also, I must question all members of this household. As to his habits, I mean, and his whereabouts today. He left home this morning, as usual?” ‘‘Quite as usual,” broke in Mrs. Black, before Avice could reply. ‘‘I was probably the one who saw him last as he depart ed. I went to the door with him, and he,—he kissed me good-by.” Mrs. Black's handkerchief was pressed into service, but she went on, clearly: ‘‘we were to have been married next month. Our engagement had been an nounced.” ‘‘And you heard nothing from Mr. Trowbridge during the day ?’ ’ “No,” said Avice, taking up the tale again; ‘‘uncle told me before he left he would be home by 5, as I was to help him with his work. He is a naturalist, out of office hours, and I assist with his cataloguing. Then, when he didn’t come at 5, I was worried, and I kept on being worried until—until—” and here the girl broke down and buried her l'aee again in the sofa pillows. “And you weren't worried?” | asked Coroner Berg, turning his pale bliu eyes cn the house keeper. No, and Mrs. Black s voice was cool and composed; ‘‘I sup posed he was merely detained by some business matter. I had no reason to fear any harm had come to him.” “When did you last see him?” went on the coroner, turning to | Judge Hoyt. ‘‘Let me see; it was—yes, it was last Friday. I was at his office consulting with him about some business, and promised to report today. But as I was called to Philadelphia today on an important matter, 1 wrote him that I would come here to his house to see him this evening, and give him the report he wanted.” ‘‘And you went to Philadelphia j today?” ‘‘Yes, I left there at 3 and reached New York at 5. I in tended coming here this even ing, but when Miss Trowbridge [ telephoned me soon after 6, I came right up at once.” “Well, I think I’ll go now, for I may dig op something of im portance at the police station, and I’ll be here tomorrow for the inquest at 10 or there abouts.” As Coroner Berg left, the men from the undertaker’s arrived, and the trying session with them had to be gone through. “But I can’t make arrange ments about the funsral now,” said poor Avice, breaking ■down again. “Why, I can’t even realize Uncle Rowly is dead, and-” “Never mind, my dear,” said Mrs. Black, “don’t try to. Go to your room now, and leave the funeral matters to me. I will arrange everything, and Judge Hoyt will assist me with his ad vice.” “Indeed you won’t,” said Avice, spiritedly. “I suppose I am still uncle’s niece. And I prefer to be consulted about the last rites for him.” “Then stay by all means,” and Mrs. Black’s voice was honey sweet. “I only meant to save you a harrowing experience.” She turned tp the suave young man who had with him a book of pictured caskets, and was'soon (Te^pi? Interested in the choice of shape, style and number of handles that seemed to her most desirable. Avice looked at her with aver sion. It seemed to the girl al most ghoulish to show such ab sorption in a question of the quality of black cloth, or the let tering on the name-plate. “But it must be decided,” said Mrs. Black. “Of course, we want the best of everything, and it is the last honor we can pay to dear Mr. Trowbridge. You should be very thankful, Avice, that you have me here to assist and advise you. You are too young and inexperienced to at tend to these matters. Isn’t that so, Judge Hoyt?” “It seems so to me, Mrs. Black. These selections must be made, and surely you are showing good taste and judgment.” Very well, returned Avice. “Go on, and get whatever you like. As for me, I’m far more concerned in hunting down my uncle’s murderer. And I doubt if that coroner man will do it. He’s a perfect lump! He’ll never find out anything! “Why, Avice,'’ remonstrated Hoyt, “what could we find out tonight? It is a mysterious af fair ,and as we here know noth ing of the crime, how could Mr. Berg discover anything from us?” “But he has no brains, no in telligence, no ingenuity!” “Coroners rarely have. It is their province only to question and learn the circumstances. ‘Sleuthing’ is what you have in mind ,and that must be done by detectives.” “I know it,” cried Avice, eag erly; “that’s what I said at first. Oh, Leslie, won’t you get the very best detectives there are and put them on the case at once ? ’ ’ “Wait a moment, Avice,” said Mrs. Black, coldly. “I am not sure you are in absolute author ity here. I have something to say in the decisions.” “But surely, Mrs. Black, you want to spare no pains and no expense to learn who killed Uncle Rowly!” xou miK very gumy 01 ex pense, my dear Avice. Until your uncle’s will is read, how do you know who will be in a posi tion to bear these expenses you are so ready to incur?” Aviee looked at the older wom an with scorn. “I don’t quite follow you,” she said, slowly; “but surely, whoever inherits my uncle’s fortune, owes first the duty of bringing his murderer to justice!” Leslie Hoyt looked very grave. “As Mr. Trowbridge’s lawyer,” he said, “I know the contents of the will. It will be read after the funeral. Until then, 1 am not at liberty to disclose it. I ‘ must go now, as I have some in vestigations to make myself. By the way, Aviee, l brought home a Philadelphia afternoon paper, and it contains a glowing ac count of the debfit of your friend, Rosalie Banks. But, per haps, you don’t care to see it, now?” “Yes, leave it,” said Avice, apathetically; “I am fond of Rosalie and I’d like to look it over.” Hoyt found the paper where he had left it on the hall table, and gave it to her, and then with a sympathetic, but unobtrusive pressure of her hand, the lawyer went away and the doctor also. “May I look at that Phila delphia paper a moment?” asked Mrs. Black, “I want to see an advertisement. ” ^ X “Certainly, here it is,” and Avice passed it over. “Just think of Rosalie having her com ing-out party just now while I’m in such sadness. We were at school together, and though younger than I, she was always one of my favorites.” “You didn’t care to go to the party?” ♦ “No it was yesterday, and I had that luncheon engagement here, you know. And oh, Elea nor, isn’t it fortunate I am here and not in Philadelphia!” “Why? You can’t do any thing.” “I know it. But it would have been awful to be away making merry when uncle was—was breathing his last! Who do you suppose did it?” “Some highway robber, of course. I always told your uncle he ought not to go off ,in those lonely woods all by himself. He ran a risk every time. And now the tragedy lias occurred. “It doesn’t seem like a high way robber to use a dagger. They always have a club or a—-what do the call it* a blackjack.” “You seem to know a loTiibout such things, Aviee^ Welb I’m going To'ltty room, and you’d better do the same. We’ve a hard day before us tomorrow. I think it’s dreadful to have an in quest here. I thought they al ways held them in the court-room or some such place.” ‘ ‘ They do, sometimes. In quests are informal affairs. The coroner just asks anybody, hit or miss, anything he can think of. That’s why I wish we had a cleverer coroner than tfiat Berg person. I can’t bear him.” “I don’t care what he’s like if he’ll only get the scene over. Shall we have to be present?” ‘“Gracious! You couldn’t keep me away. I want to hear every word and see if there’s any clue to the truth.” The two went up to their rooms, but neither could sleep. Aviee sat in an easy chair by her open window, wondering and pandering as to who could have been the criminal. Mrs. Black, on the other hand, thought only of herself and her own future. She was a very beautiful wom an, with finely cut features and raven black hair, which she wore in glossy smooth waves partly over her small ears. Her eyes were large and black and her mouth was scarlet and finely curved. She was of Italian par entage, though born in America. Her husband had been a New York lawyer, but dying, left her in greatly straitened circum stances and she had gladly ac cepted the position of house keeped in the Trowbridge home. At first, she had rejected the ad vances of Rowland Trowbridge, thinking she preferred a younger and gayer man. But the kind ness and generosity of her em ployer finally won her heart, or her judgment, and she had prom ised to marry him. It is quite certain, however, that Eleanor ; Black would never have come to this decision, had it not been for Rowland Trowbridge’s wealth. Late into the night, Avice sat thinking. It seemed to her that she must by some means ferret out the facts of the case,—must find the dastardly villain who killed her uncle and let justice mete out his punishment. But where to turn for knowledge, she had no idea. Jtier minu tunica to wnat ivir. Berg had said about enemies. It couldn’t be possible that either i of the men she had mentioned 1 could be implicated, but I mightn’t there be some one else! ’ Perhaps some one she had never l heard of. Then the impulse ; seized her to go down to her ■uncle’s library and look over his | recent letters. She might learn | something of importance. Not for a moment did she hesitate to do this, for she knew she was the principal heir to his fortune, and the right to the house and its con ; tents was practically hers. And her motives were of the i best and purest. All she desired ! was to get some hint, some clue, as to which way to look for a possible suspect. Walking lightly, though tak ing no especial precautions of si lence, she went slowly down stairs, and reached the door of ! the library. From the hall, as ■ she stood at tlip portiere, she | heard some one talking inside the j room. Listening intently she rec ognized the voice of Eleanor Black at the telephone. A Variant. Prom the Boston Transcript. Friend—Well, how do you think tha election will go? Actor—It Is on the knees of the gods. Friend (gallant to suffragists) — Say, rather. It Is on the laps of our goddesses. Owing to a strike of municipal workers at Chemnitz the doctors and dgpiists have gone on counter strlk% ■ the London Time% 1