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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 24, 1921)
Copyright. I til", by J. B. Ljpplncott Co. J § J “'That's why I want John Fleming way s'usp-e.ted. Then there is no danger 01 accusing an innocent person. If the police really think it was a man named Hemingway, they can’t do any thing to Kane but tree him.” “We ll see,” and Judge Iloyt sighed. It was not an easy task he had undertaken, t.o fasten sus picion on a mythical character, but he would carry it through, if possible, because of the reward that was to be his. To do him justice, he didu’t think Avice was deeply in love with Landon, but, rather, that her sympathies had been aroused by the man's tragic position and perhaps by the injustice of liis sudden and unexpected arrest. And he fully believed that Landon, once freed, would turn to ills. Mack, and not to Avice. The judge felt that tljesc two had known each other well and long before their recent meeting at the Trowbridge home, and that they were only biding their time to renew their relations, whatever they were or had been. Judge Hovt and Avice went together to the Tombs to see Landon. The application of Hoyt for permission was readily grant ed and the prisoner was brought to sec them in the warden’s room. Landon war. in an aggravat ing mood. lie was indifferent, almost jaunty in his demeanor, land Avice was really annoyed at ■Min . ivan:-,'” she said, earnestly, "l don’t know why you assume this light uii1, but it must be as- • sumed. It can't he your real feelings. Now, Jiulg" Hoyt is willing to help you to help us. If you are indicted—” "Nonsense! Tho g'tnd jury’ll never indict me.” "Why do you think they • won’t?” "Because they can t get suf- * fieient evidence.” "Oh, Kane, why didn’t you aay because you arc innocent? You are—aren’t you?” Landoa looked at lier. ‘‘What do you think?” he said in a voice devoid of auy expression what ever. Avice looked away. “I don’t know what to think! I am tell ing you the truth, Kane. I can not decide whether I think you guilty or not—I don’t known” "And you’ll never learn— from me!” "Kane! What do you mean i>y such an attitude toward i me?" ‘‘Yes, Mr. London,” broke in fudge Iloyt, unable longer to 1* : I * * • i i 1 . i puniui in.) ii.iu^uai ivuai do you mean?” “Nothing at all,” replied Kane, coolly; “and, by the way, Judge, I'm advised by our wor thy district attorney that I would do well to get a compe tent lawyer to run this affair for me. Will you take it up?” “Are you sure you want me?” “ Naturally, or I shouldn’t have asked you.” “Why do you hesitate, Les lie?” said Aviee, her troubled eyes looking from one man to tho other. “Shall I bo frank?” began doyt, slowly. “It isn’t necessary,” said Lon don; “1 know what you mean. You think it will be a hard mat ter, if not an impossible one, to clear me.” “I don’t mean quite that,” and Hoyt’s fine face clouded. “Yes, Laudou, I’ll take the ease, if you desire it.” Ami so Kaqe Landon had a clever, shrewd and capable law yer to defend him. Aviee had great faith in Leslie Hoyt’s gen ius, though she feared the two men were ’not very friendly. She took occasion later, on the way home, to thank Hoyt for his »iiliugness in the matter. “I’m sure you’ll get him off,” die said, hopefully. Hoyt looked grave. “You’re mistaken, Aviee; I can’t got him off.” “What! You mean he’ll be convicted I” “How can he help but be? I can’t perform miracles. Hut I plight make a more desperate ef fort than a stranger. That’s all i can promisg.” ' ‘ Even when you remember rhot I have promised yon?” “Oh, my love, when I think of .hat, I feel that I can perform miracles Yes, I’ll succeed some how Laiulon shall be freed, and I shall put all my powers to the 1 work of making bis freeing a gg—8«scg/_jt<f»gc- v,gaw. jMsaapcara! jubilant triumph for him.” Avite went home aghast at what she had done. She had forged a document, she had per suaded Hoyt to perjure himself, and, worst of all, she had prom ised to marry a man.she did not love. Siie had friendly feelings for her fiance, but no impulse of love stirred her heart for him. Indeed, it was while she was talking with him that she re alized that she really loved Kane Landon. As she thought it all over, she knew that she had loved Landon without being aware of it, and that it was lloyt’s appeal that had shown her the truth. Yes, that was why she had forged that letter, be cause Kane’s safety was more to her than her own honesty! And all this for a man who did not love her! It was shocking, it was unmaidcnly—but it was true. She would save the man she loved, and then, if there was no escape, she would marry Hoyt. Her debt to him must be paid, an$ she had given her promise. Well, she must not flinch. Once let Kane le freed of all suspicion of crime, and then she would pay her penalty. $he remembered a quotation: "All for love and the world well lost.” That was her heart’s cry. But from these moments of ex altation and self justification, Avice would ran imo aeptns 01 self reproach and black despair. At times she could scarcely be lieve she had done the awful thing she had done, and then the remembrance of why she had done it returned, and again she forgave herself. The next time Hoyt called he looked very grave. \ y “Avice,” he said, “Avice, dear, I don’t see how I can carry that matter through. I mean about the forged note. It is sure to be found out, and then where would I be?” “ \'ery well,” said the girl, coldly, “then our engagement is broken. That is the one condi tion, that you free Kane. And you said you couldn’t do that without using the note.” ‘' But I eau try other ways. I can try to get him off because of lack of evidence.” “Do just as you choose, Les lie. If you free him by any means whatever 1 will keep my promise and marry you, but not other wise. ’ ’ "Aviee! when you look like that I can’t give you up! You beautiful girl! You shall be mine! I ll stop at nothing to win you. I would do anything for _ A trAli understand?” Impulsively, he took her in his arms. But she cried out: “No, Leslie, you shall not kiss me un til you have freed Kaue!” “Girl!” he cried, and clasped her roughly, “do you know how you make me feel when you in sist it is all for his sake?” “But it is! 1 have made no attempt to deceive you as to that.” “Indeed you haven’t. But aren’t you ashamed to love a man who cares for another woman?" A clear, serene light shone in Aviee’s eyes. “No!’ she said, “No! You don’t know what a woman's pure love is. I ask no return, I sacrifice my heart and soul for him because 1 love him. lie will never know what I have done for him. But he will be f ree! ’ ’ “Free to marry Eleanor Black!” “Yes, if lie chooses. She is not a bad woman. She is mercenary, she never loved my uncle, and was marrying him only for his money. She is in love with Kane. 1 can read her like a book. And though she is older, she is con genial to him iu many ways, and I hope—I trust—they will be happy together.” Hoyt looked at the girl with a sort of reverence. She was like a willing martyr in a holy cause, and if her sacrifice was founded on falsehood it was none the less noble. “You are a saint!” he cried; “but you are mine! Oh, Avice, j you shall yet love me, and not that usurper. May we announce our engagement at once?” “No; you seem to forget you haven’t won me yet!” “But I will! I cannot fail with such a glorious prize at stake!” “You never can do that ex j cept t>y treeing tile inau 1 d love!” Iloyt’s brow contracted, bn he jjitade no complaint. Truh j he had been told often enoug i of Avice’s reasons for marryin him, and as he had accepted lie terms he had no right to cav\ , at them. CHAPTER xvrr. MADAME ISIS. “Yep, Miss Avice, I gotter gc Judge Hoyt, he’s got ine a norfu good place in a lawyer’s office an’ I’m goin’ to get quite i bunch o’ money often it. I d< hate to leave this little ole town but 1 don’t wanta trow dowi that swell job in Philly. - So come over to say goo’by, an’ i you’ll lemine I’d like to wish yoi well.” Fibsy was emharrassed, as hi always was in the presence o gentlefolk. The boy was so hon estly ambitious, and tried si hard to overcome his street slanj and to hide his ignorance of bet ter language, that he usually be came incoherent and tongue tied “I’m glad, Fibsy,” Avice said * for she somehow liked to use his fuuny nickname, “that Judgi Hoyt did get you a good pos “tion, and I hope you’ll make gooc in it. “Yes’m, I sure hope so, bui you see I’d doped it out to staj and help you out on this here caseo’yourn. I mean about Mr Trowbridge—you know—■” “Yes, I know, Pibsy, and it’s kind of you to take such inter est, but I 'doubt if so young a boy is you arc could be of much real help, and so it’s as well foi you to go to a good employer, where you’ll have a chance tc learn—• ’ ’ “Yes, Miss Avice,” Pibsy in terrupted impatiently, “an’ I begs you’ll forgive me, but l wanta ask you sumpum ’fore 1 go. Will you—would you—•” “Well, say it, child; don’t be afraid,” Avice smiled pleasantly at him. “Yes’m. Would you—” his «wes roved around the room— ✓ ■would you now, gimme some little thiug as a soovyneer ol Mr. Trowbridge? I was orful fond of him, I was.” “Why, of course, I will,” said Avice, touched by the request. “Let me see,” she looked about the library table, “here’s a sil ver envelope opener my uiftle often used. Would you like that?” “Oh, yes’m—thank you lots, Miss Avice, and I guess I better bo goin’—” “Terence,” and Aviee, struck by a sudden thought, looked the boy straight in the face. “Ter ence, that isn’t what you started to ask, is it? Answer me truly.’.’ The blue eyes fell and then lifted again, locking at her frankly. “No, ma’am, it ain’t. No, Mise Avice, I—I fibbed, I -was a-goiu’ to ask you sumpum else.” “Why didn’t you?” “It was one o’ them sudden jerks o’ my thinker ’at makes me fib sometimes when I least ex pect to. I dunno what that thing is, but it trips me up, lots o times, an’, Miss Avice, I always just liafto fib when it comes, an’—” his voice lower&l to a whisper, “an’ I’m always glad T .1_U l>» “Glad you fibbed! Oh, Ter ence! I thought Judge Iloyt lec tured you about that habit.” “Yes'm, he did, ’in. Ilul there’s times when I gotter— jest simpully gotter—an’ that’f all there is about it.” Somewhat shamefaced, the bo} stood, twirling his cap. “You're a funny boy, F'ibs.v,’ said Avice, smiling a little at tin disturbed countenance. “Yes’in, I am, Miss, but horn ust, I ain’t so bad as 1 look. An I don’t tell lies,—not up am downers. But they’s times— yes’m, there sure is times—oh pshaw, a lady like you don’1 know nothin’ bout it! Say, Mis; Avice, kin I keep the cuttei thing, all the same?” “Yes, you may keep that,’ and Avice spoke a little gravely “and Fibsy, let it be a reminde: to you not to tell naught} stories. ’ ’ “Oh, I don’t Sliss, truly, ’ don’t do that. The fibs 1 tel ain’t what you’d call stories They’s ler a purpose—always fe: a purpose.” The earnestness in bin tom was unmistakable, whatever it reason for being, and somethin; about him gave Avice a feelin; of confidence in his trustworthi ness, notwithstanding his repnta tion. He went away, awkvvardl; blurting out a good by, and thci daring from the room in a ver, spasm of shyness. “Funny little chap,” sai< I Avice to Eleanor Black, tellin olher oi' the interview. “Horrid little gamin!” was t the response. “I’m glad he’t . going to Philadelphia; you were i becoming too chummy with x him altogether. And I think r he’s too forward. He oughtn’t to 1 be allowed to come in the house. “Don’t fuss, Eleanor. He won’t be here any more, so rest easy on that question.” And then the two began to dis cuss again the question that was .' ali absorbing and never finished— 1 the subject of Kane’s arrest. t Avico had concluded not to ask 1 Eleanor of her previous acquaint * ance with Landon, for they had > practically joined forces in an ef ' lort to prove his innocence, and . Avicc wanted to keep friends ‘ with the older woman, at least 1 until she had learned all Eleanor could tell her »_3 friendship’s con - fidences. So they talked, hours at a time, and not once had Eleanor implied ' by word or hint, that she had I known Landon in Denver. And yet Avice was sure she had, and meant to find out sooner or later from Kane himself. But she rarely had opportunity ' of seeing him, and almost never 51 Inn A On llAr in fraononf Trioifo to him at the Tombs she was ac companied by Judge Hoyt, and, too, Landon was morose and taci turn of late, so that the inter views were not very satisfactory. He had been indicted by the grand jury, and was awaiting trial in a very different frame of mind from the one he had shown on his arrest. The prosecuting attorney was hard at work preparing the case. As is often the condition in a great criminal affair, there were antagonistic elements in the mat ters of detection and prosecu tion. The district attorney did not always agree with the police, nor they with the press and gen eral public. The personal friends and mem bers of the family, too, had their own ideas, and each was equally anxious to prove evidence or es tablish a case. The police had done well, but their work had to be supplement ed by Whiting and his own de tectives, and evidence had to* be sifted and tabulated, statements put in writing and sworn to, and much detail work looked after. Avice chafed at the delay, but Judge Hoyt assured her it was necessary, and asserted that he, too, had much to do to prepare his ease for the defense. So the days dragged by, and one afternoon when a stranger was announced Avice said she would see her, in sheer hope of diversion. And a diversion it proved. The visitor was a middle aged woman of the poorer class, but of decent appearance and address. But she had a mysterious air, and spoke only in whispers. Her large dark eyes were deep set and glittered as with an uncanny light. Her thin lips drew them selves in, as if with a determina tion to say no more than was needful to make known her mean ing. Her pale face showed two red spots on the high cheek bones, and two deep lines between her eyes bespoke earnest intentness of purpose. “I am Miss Barham,” she said by way of introduction, and paused as if for encouragement to proceed. “Yes,” said Avice, kindly. vv iiai iran x uu lur ) t “Nothing, Miss Trowbridge. I am here to do something for you.” Her voice was so piercing, though not loud, and her eyes glittered so strangely that Avice drew back a little in fear. VDon’t be seared,” said Miss Barham reassuringly. “I mean no harm to you or yours. Quite the contrary. I come to bring you assistance.” “Of what sort?” and Avice , grew a little impatient. “Please state your errand.” i “Yes, I will. 1 have had a rev ■ elation,” “A drerfm?” 1 “No, not a dream—not a vis , ion—” the speaker now assumed ■ a slow, droning voice—“but a revelation. It concerned you, Miss Avice Trowbridge. I did ; not know you, but I had no diffi [ culty in learning of your position . and your home. The revelation • was this: If you will go to Mad ame Isis, you will be told how to . learn the truth of the mystery of , your uncle’s death.” > Avice. curled her lip slightly, r in a mild scorn of this statement. ! The caller was, then, only an ad . vertising dodge for some clair voyant or medium. A charlatan r of some sort. i “I thank you for your thought fulness,” she said, rising, “but I must beg you to excuse me. I am 1 not interested in such dungs. ” J ITo be continued nei*. week.) ! = - —. i .... . i ■ ■ ■ . V- .Jjj&si , 1 ff: ■ * " "111 / / Warning! Unless you see the name “Bayer” on tablets, you are not getting genuine Aspirin prescribed by physicians for 21 years and proved safe by millions. Accept only an “unbroken package” of “Bayer Tablets of Aspirin," which contains proper directions for Colds, Headachy Pain, Toothache, Neuralgia, Rheumatism, Neuritis, Lumbago. Handy tin fcoxea of 12 tablet* coat but a few carat*—Larger package*. Aapirln la the trad, mark at Bapsr Manufacture at m-~.--.-h--■ True Vegetarian. “Walter, I ordered vegetable soup.” “Well, sir?” “This has a fly In It.” RUB RHEUMATIC PAIN FROM ACHING JOINTS Rub Pain right out with small trial bottle of old “St. Jacobs Oil.” Stop "dosing” Rheumatism. It's pain only; not one case in fifty requires internal treatment. Rub ; soothing, penetrating “St. Jncobs OI1” ; right on the “tender spot,” and' by the i time you say Jack Robinson—out j comes the rheumatic pain and distress. “St. Jacob's OH” is a harmless rheu matism liniment which never disup points and doesn’t burn the skin. It takes pain, soreness and stiffness from aching joints, muscles and bones; stops sciatica, lumbago, backache and neuralgia. Limber up! Get a small trial bottle of old-time, honest “St. Jacobs Oil” from any drug store, ahd in a moment, you’ll be free from pains, aches and stillness. Don’t suffer 1 Rub rheuma tism away.—Adv. Economy. Perclval—I’ve got money to bum. Naylor—Well, go ahead, it’s cheap er (ban coal! Important to Mothers Examine carefully every bottle of CASTOIUA, that famous old remedy for infants and children, and see that It Signature In Use for Over 30 Years. Children Cry for Fletcher’s Castoria -- ' 1 T SIMPLE BOrtD TO HAPPINESS As Benevolent Old Gentleman Pointed Tut, Desired Result Might Easily Be Attained. The beautiful young woman, dressed In fashion's most pronounced style, entered the street car nnd sat beside « rather benevolent-looking old man As the car started she happened to glance out the window at a bunch of little girls playing on the sidewalk. “Don't they look happy,” she gushed. “I5ut no wonder. Why, 1 remember my happiest days were when I used to wear short, little gingham dresses.” Now, the man had seen her enter the car, and lie was well Informed abouf the length of the dress she was wear ing, so there# was no mistaking his hir.t. “You might try gingham instead of the silk you’re now wearing,” he suggested. Thirty Days. An athletic young fellow In Aus tralia went on a tear nnd landed In the police court. The magistrate In i' qulred what the prisoner’s occupation was. “He’s a professional football play er,” said his counsel. “He plays out side right for hlg team.” j "Oh, he does, does he?” replied the j magistrate; “well, then, we must i change his position. He’ll be left in side for the next month.” A life loyal to a high ideal Is suc cessful. ( You Tell 'Em. Bess—They also serve who only* stand and wait. Bob—True. In fact, that kind are always serving; never bossing. HEAD STUFFED FROM CATARRH'OR A COLD Says Cream Applied In Nostrils Opens Air Passages Right Up. Instant relief—no waiting. Tour clogged nostrils open right up; the air passages of your head clear and you can breathe freely. No more hawking, snuffling, blowing, headache, dryness. No struggling for breath at night; your cold or catarrh disappears. (let a small bottle of Ely’s Cream Balm from your druggist now. Apply a little of this fragrant, antiseptic, healing cream in youf nostrils. It pen etrates through every passage of the head, soothes the Inflamed or swollen mucous membrane and relief comes In stantly. It’s just fine. Don’t stay stuffed-up with a cold or nasty catarrh.—Adv. Good for a Starter Only. •'At luncheon I had something exc&» lent, but not satisfying.” “What was ItT' - Hi “An excellent appetite.” Cutieura Soothes Baby Rashes That itch and burn with hot batbt of Cutieura Soap followed by gentld anointings of Cutieura Ointment, Notiiing better, purer, sweeter, espe cially if a little of the fragrant Cuti cura Talcum is dusted on at the fin ish. 25c each everywhere.—Adv. SKIPPER REGRETTED HIS FIB Persistent Questioner, in the Classif Language of the Street, “Got Back at Him.” The deep-sea fisherman often has | sharp tongue and is not likely to gel the worst of a verbal duel. Bui George, the skipper of a Yarmouth trawler, who figures in "North Sea Fishers gnd Fighters," by Mr. Waltei Wood, certainly met #vlth his match once whether he knew it or not. “There’s land people who come and bother you with foolish questions,” ha complained In recounting the hardi ships of a skipper’s life. “I try to put ’em off, but can’t alius do it. There was tin old lady who worried me past endurance with her questions, ask in’ if the herrin’s were caught In bar rels, as she’d sometimes seen ’em that way in shops. I told her no, and then she aggravated me to that extent that X told the only fib I ever spoke In my life. “ ‘How do you kill ’em when you’vs caught ’em?’ she asked. “ ‘We bite off their heads,’ I an swered. “She looked at the catch of herrin’a we had. ‘My l My!’ she murmured, walkin’ away. ’How tired your poor jaws must be l’ " The AJibl. “Prisoner at the bar, you are charged with vagrancy, having no via lble means of support. Are you guilty cy not guilty?” “Not guilty, your honor. Nora, shake hands wid de judge; judge, meet me wife!"—Richmond Times-Dispatclu. * -• • :« ‘ • + >~>* r . ' - .t ■ ■■ •»