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.
*
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•»
