^ ^ -.warn— .'hk i.ii • —»"»AMMUBMg- -
THE
MASTER MAN
BY
KUBY M AYRES
Author of -The Phjntom Lover," "The Girl Next Door," etc.
She was regarding him with
burning anger in her dark
eyes, and she broke out trem
blingly :
“I don't know what right
you have to arrange my af
fairs. I think it is great pre
sumption If I go tomorrow
morning it will be time enough.
I can do no good; Mr Rolf is
dead. ”
A little flame of anger filled
her eyes.
“You will go tonight, do you
hear?" lie said almost rough-•
ly. “You will catch (hat 7
o'clock train, and your tiling-*
can be sent on.” I > paused;
then added: “Try and think
about somebody besides your
self—for once.”
She gave a little choking
cry.
“IIow dare you speak to me
like this? What right have
you?”
He laughed; her anger wa$
nothing to him.
“1 am Chosney’s friend, and
that gives me the right,” lie
answered. “Ami from what I
know of you, I can thank (iod
for his sake that you have
been called away now.”
A wave of crimson flushed
her face from brow to chin.
“I don’t understand. What
do you mean?” she stammered.
For once her composure had
deserted her.
Milward’s fnvc softened un
willingly.
“1 mean,” he said more qui
etly, “that because Chestiey is
my friend 1 do not intend you
to play the devil with him
and ruin his life; he’s too good
for that. Now—will you go
and get ready?”
For a moment it seemed as
if she were going to defy him,
then without a word she turned
and walked towards the lie
treat.
Milward followed; Uis brows
almost met in a heavy frown.
Could she really he so
heartless, he was wondering,
with that face, with that smile?
Ilow could Nature make so
perfect a face and form, and
forgot to endow it with a
heart?
“We must leave here in 15
minutes, Miss liolf,” he called
after her, but she did not an
swer, and be crossed the lawn
again and went down the road
to a neighboring garage to
fetch his car.
Chesney was at the gate
when he returned; ho asked an
agitated question:
“Miss ltolfl Where is she?”
“I’m going to drive her to
the station—to catch the seven
train up to town.”
t’heauey atareu. isut she
can't be ready! There’s only a
quarter of an hour....”
“She’ll be ready,” Milward
answered; he was filling the
tank with petrol. “Sorry we
can’t, take you along as well,
old chap,” he said without
looking up. “There’s no room,
you see.”
Chesney grunted; Milward
had never paid Patricia the
slightest attention before, and
Chosney was inclined to be
jealous.
“I say, you know,” he broke
out boyishly, “it’s rotten luck;
whatever will site do! She
hasn’t anyone in the world but
old Rolf.. .Rotten luck, break
ing up her holiday like this!”
“Yea, I thought, that was the
chief trouble,” said Milward
dryly.
Chesney’s face flamed.
“What do you meant” he
I asked sharply. The other man
shrugged his shoulders.
“Oh, nothing! What rela
tion was she to Rolft”
“None—adopted daughter,
that's all.”
“I see.”
“She’ll get all the old man’s
money,” Chesney said with a
note of constraint in his voice.
Milward did not seem im
No Sale.
From Answers.
Office Boy: There's a commercial
traveler outside, sir.
Boss: What sort of a commercial
traveler?
“He's got a moustache.”
“Tell him I have one alrec’y."
Q. Please give some information
about Roland H»yes. the negrc
singer. E. B. H.
A Roland W. Hayes was born
in Georgia and educated at Fisk
University. It was as a member ol
the Fisk university Jubilee Sing
ers that/Roland Hayes first attrac
ted attention as a singer. He was
heard by a weathly music enthus
w
2
pressed, and at that moment
Patricia came down the gar
den and joined them.
She still wore her white
frock, with a long coat over it,
and she was followed by a
maid carrying a dressing-ease.
She ignored Milward and
spoke to Chesney.
“I am so sorry to have to
run away lili'e this, but you un
derstand, don’ you? 1 can’t
liml .Mrs. Chesfiey anywhere,
hut you will tell her how it is,
won't you?...I shall write, of
course.”
Young Chesuey flushed up
to his eyes.
“I'm sorry, too,” he said in
a low voice, “very sorry.”
He gripped Imr hand hard.
“Good byt, and if there is
anything J can do for you,
please don’t hesitate to ask
or send for me.”
And the next moment, the
little ear was racing away
through the warm evening.
“You’d better take the
rug,'’ Milward said impartial
ly. “It ’s dusty down the road
and you’ll spoil your frock.
You 11 find it behind me.”
Patricia looked at him icily.
“Thank you, but it’s not
worth while.”
She was furious with him
for having made her leave, and
furious with herself for havi/ig
obeyed him.
Milward kept one hand on
the wheel and, half turning,
dragged the rug from behind
him and flung it lightly across
her lap.
“There is no sense in spoil
ing an expensive frock like
that ’ he sail tolerantly.
She hit her lip; tears of an
gry mortification in her eyes.
“You are not very sympa
thetic,” she said, in a quiver
ing voice. “1 think you might
at least he...a little.. .sorry
for me. Mr. Rolf was the only
friend 1 had in the world.”
Milward looked down at her
dispassionately.
“I would sympathize with
you, I would be sorry for you
if I thought you really wished -
it,” he said, “but I know you
do not.”
She gave a stifled cry, and
he went on quickly:
“Miss Rolf, why won’t you
he honest with me? I know
that Mr. Rolf’s death means
little or nothing to you; 1
know that unless you had ap
pearances to consider you
would infinitely rather stay
here than go back home. Isn’t
it rather...rather petty in the
circumstances, then, to ask me
to be sorry for you?”
There was a little silence;
then she said,' in a changed
voice:
“I wonder why you hate me
so mueh? I don’t think any- !
body has ever really hated me
before.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“1 don’t iiatc you; I haven’t
any feeling one way or the
other except that...”
He hesitated, ami she looked
up quickly., “Yes?”
“Except that l should like
to appeal to you for Ohesney,”
he went on firmly. “He’s only
a boy—he doesn’t understand
that it’s quite possible for a
woman to pretend to care for a
man when she cares nothing at
all. Don’t you thyik it’s rath
er cruel of you to deliberately
lead him on. as you have done,
and then show him that such
a thing is possible?”
She drew in her breath
hard; her hands were clenched
under the light rug.
“Nobody has ever so insult
ed me before,” she said quiv
eringly.
“The truth is not an insult,”
he maintained. “If you choose
to consider that it is, I am sor
ry, but...” He broke off,
catching Patricia’s arm in a
rough grip.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
iast who decreed that he should
have furthed musical training. This
further training he received from a
distinguished singer of singing.
--
Q. Have there been Passion Plays
other than the one at Oberammer
gau ? D. J.
A. The name. Passion Play, has
I been given to plays representing the
passion of Christ. These plays be
came numerous between the 13th
ar.d the 16th centuries, especially in
Germany and the Tyrol. The most
important survival is one that takes
piace every 10th year in the village
of Oberammergau in the Bavarian
highlands. —
fp. ' — " ■ .11 ' Ml. ' I,, |
I OK INTEREST TO FARMERS
I_
WORLD’S CHAMPION STEER
TOw.-iirawAwSffliS.w'WvV/' viv'VA :V'W •-■.••y^^y-x»y.>v»*».-w*w. . .>v...s .-.%'::--.-‘.:^>:-:rx->;-::;^f.r.-.v'
The prize steer of the world, Just selected at the International
Livestock show at Chicago, Is “Lucky Strike,” crossbred Ab.rdeen
Angus owned by Elliott Brown, 20 years old, of Rose Hill, la. This an
imal won over a large list of entries. The steer is shown here with
John Clay, president of the show at left, and its owner. The animal
weighed 949 pounds, and brought its owner $9,110 in cash and prizes.
TVPE OF CORN FOR SEED
Some corn growers who look for
ward to the next year select a good
supply of corn for seed purposes
irora the field during the fall, while
>thers select the seed from the crib
luring the winter months. In either
:ase, more corn should be selected
shan will actually be needed be
cause on closer examination much
if it will be found unsuitable. In
making this final selection the
.ype of ear and kernel should be
;arefully studied. Experiments have
shown that it. makes little differ
ence whether the ears of corn are
cylindrical or tapering, whether the
rows are straight or crooked or
whether tne kernels are wedged
shape or some otner shape. There
does, however, seem to be a defin
ite relation between the length and
indentation of the kernel and the
yield. Extremely long kernels in
dicate poor germination, low vit
ality and consequently a poor stand
and late maturity. Plants grown
from such kernels are usually more
susceptible to diseas': Long kernels
usually have a dull appearance
while the smoother ears have a
bright glossy appearance. During
the last five years, a corn special
ist has conducted 182 experimental
tests with farmers in which he
compared the rough and smooth
types of seed com. The average
yield of corn from the use of the
smooth type of ear has been 12
oer cent more than the average
yield from the rough type of ear.
The ears of corn finally selected
| for seed purposes should be well
, matured, free from oil indication of
disease and with medium smooth
kernels that arc bright and glossy.
The largest ears with long and
indented kernels are not generally
good seed ears, especially in the
western part of the corn belt, where
early maturity is quite essential
tor high yields.
USE CAPACITY LOAII
Some tractor owners make the
mistake of putting too heavy a load
on a new tractor before it has beer
sufficiently werkid in to do its
work most efficiently, and the
heavy load may cause overheating
and cutting or scoring. On the oth
er hand, many owners lose effi
ciency in power farming by under
loading their tractors. A very con
siderable proportion of the heating
value of tine fuel burned carnet be
put to useful work, but is used up
heat loss in the exhaust, heat loss
through the cooling system, loss in
friction in the engine and gears,
loss in ground resistance, and ir
operating the fan and magneto.
This total waste, while not con
stant does not decrease at all in
proportion to the decrease in load.
Hence to secure anything like max
imum efficiency, a tractor should be
fcaded so as to give its engine at
least three-fourths of its rated load.
If the tractor Is capable of pulling
three plows and only two are used,
the owner Is lasing a considerable
part of the efficiency of his outfit
and also of his own labor. With
three bottoms he could plow nearly
50 per cent more acres per day than
with two bottoms at a smaller fuel
and oil oast per acre; and at prac
tically no additional cost for labor
and for overhead on his tractor and
plow.
A RHAPSODY ON CORN
In response to the toast, “What I
Knew About Farming,” Governor
Oglesby of Illinois gave an address
»i a harvest home festival In 1391
that for beauty of diction and ap
preciation has seldom, if ever, been
excelled. Here it is: “The corn! the
corn! the corn! that in its first be
ginning and in its growth has fur
nished aptest illustration of the
tragic announcement of the chiefest
hope of man: ‘If he die he shall
surely live again.' Planted in the
friendly but somber bosom of Moth
er Earth, it dies. Yes, it dies the sec
ond death, surrendering up each
trace of form and earthly shape un
til the outward tide is stopped by
the reacting vital germ which,
breaking all the bonds and cere
ments of its sad decline, come
bounding, laughing into life and
light, the fittest of all the symbols
that make certain promise of the
fate of men. And so it died, and
then it lived again. And so my peo
ple died. By some unknown, uncert
ain, and unfriendly fate I found
myself making my first journey into
life from conditions as lowly as those
surrounding that awakening, dyirg.
STARTING PULLETS RIGHT
The pullets are Just about to be
put In their winter quarters. The
sine of the eggs, the number pro
duced and the headth of the birds
during the next four or five months
will depend in large part upon the
care which is given them during the
next few weeks. It is essential that
they be put in absolutely clean
quarters which have been thorough
ly disinfected. They should run on a
concrete or board floor, not an
earth floor. They must be given con
stant access to a good egg mash,
preferably one containing butter
milk. They must be fed a good
scratch feed and the mash and
living infant germ. Again my mind
turns to the glorious corn. See it—
look on its ripening, waving field.
See how it wears a crown, prouder
than monarch ever wore; sometimes
jauntily, and sometimes, after the
storm, the dignified survivors of the
tempest seem to view a field of
slaughter and to pity a fallen foe.
And see the pendant caskets of the
corn filled with the wine of life,
and see the silken fringe that set a
form of fashion and for art. And
now the evening comes, and some
thing of a time to rest and listen.
The scudding clouds conceal the
half and then reveal the whole of
the moonlit beauty of the night;
and then the gentle winds make
heavenly harmonies on a thousand
harps that hang upon the borders
and the edges and the middle of
the field of ripening corn, until my
heart seems to beat responsive to
the rising and the falling of the
long, melodious refrain. The melan
choly clouds sometimes make shad
ows cn the field and hide its aureate
wealth; and now they move, and
slowly into sight there comes the
golden glow of promise for an in
dustrious land. Aye, the corn, the
royal corn, within whose yellow
heart there is of health and strength
for all the nations! The corn tri
umphant! That with the aid of man
hath made victorious procession
across the tufted plain and laid
foundation for the social excellence
that is and is to be. This glorious
plant, transmuted by the alchemy
of God, sustains the warrior in bat
tie, the poet in song: and strength
ens everywhere the thousand arms
that work t he purposes of life. Oh I
that I had the voice of song or skill
iu i-runsiate into tones tne narmon
ies, the symphonies, and oratoriei
that roll across my soul when
standing, sometimes bv day and
sometimes by night, upon the bord
ers of this verdant sea, I note a
world of promise; and then before
one-half the year is gone I view it*
full friction and see its heaped gold
. await the end of man. Malestic
fruitful, wonderous plant! Thou
greatest among the manifestation!
of the wisdom and the love of Goc
tha*- may be seen in all the fields
or upon the hillsides, or in the val
leys. Glorious corn that, more thax
all the sisters of the field, wean
tropic garments. Nor en the shores
of Nilus nor of Ind does Nature
dress her forms more splendidly.
My God! to live again that time
when for me half the world was
good, the other half unknown. And
now again the corn! that in its ker
ne! holds the strength that shall
• in the body of the man refreshed)
subdue the forest and comDel re
sponse from every stubborn field, or,
shining in the eye of beautv, make
blossoms of her cheeks and .jewels
on her lips, and thus make for mar
the greatest inspiration to well-do
ing, the hope of companionship ol
that sacred, warm, and well-embod
ied soul, a woman.”
CAUSES C’F EGG EATING
Egg eatir.g is a vice that is quite
common in some flocks. It Is some
times laid to the fact that some
thing is lacking in the ration. No
doubt this is true in a few instances;
however, in most cases it is largely
a matter of habit brought on to
some extent by poor management
Keeping pullets cn range after
they have started to lap encourages
them in the habit of laying all over
the place; they are not used to
nests and therefore will lay their
eggs on the floor. Or the pullets may
have been put in the laying house
before they were laying many eggs,
but there may not be enough nests
to accommodate all the birds—at
least one nest for every five birds—
with the result that eggs are laid on
the floor. The result of this floor
laying is that not only are eggs ,
easily broken, thereby encouraging
pullets to eat them, bue vent picking
is also encouraged. Another form of
poor management that is responsible
for egg eating is having insufficient
nesting material In the nests. When
nests are bare or nearly so, eggs
are easily broken when laid, and the
habit of eating the eggs starts
readily on broken eggs. Once the
habit starts, the thing to do is to
catch the birds that are the most
active in the eating. Usually if the
ringleaders are removed, the others
will not continue.
scratch must be fed In the correct
proportion if they are to get a bal
anced ration. They must be con
stantly supplied with fresh clean
water, grit, shell and charcoal in
wall hoppers, or good quality
crushed limestone, and they must
be fed at least once each dev a
j liberal feeding of green succulent
feed. The house in which they are
j located must be well ventilated t»
| prevent dampness. The floor should
be covered with a deep, clean litter
which should be kept dry end
I coarse by replacing ns necessary.
---
Where you find scrub sires you
1 usuallv find a scrub farnia-*
| THE COPPER HOUSE
A Detective Story
BY
JULIUS REGIS
AUTHOR OF “NO 13 TORONI**
m _
s
Then the journalist went up
to the great double trap doors,
which were only opened to
hoist up the bales of hay, and,
as though to get air, he un
barred them and threw them
wide open. A loud shout
greeted his appearance, as his
tall figure was unexpectedly
outlined against the glare of
the fire. He looked down
into the darkness, and be
came aware of a crowd of up
turned faces, and gleaming
rifle barrels.
“Is Ortiz there?” he called
out.
The adventurer stepped
slowly to the front, his hands
behind his hack in his favorite
attitude.
“What do you want?” he
asked. “Have you made up
your mind to surrender?”
“No, 1 only want to remind
you that I still have the Tar
rasehin memorandum, and it
will not he much to your ad
vantage to burn me alive.”
“What do you expect me to
lo then? 1 should he no bet
ter off if I shot you on the
spot. The decision lies with
you; give me the paper, and
you are free.”
The journalist seemed I
scarcely to hear him. A look
of intense excitement had
jcnie into 1)is eyes, which were
fixed on the wooded ridge
near the house, and a sigh of
relief hurst from him as he
saw a white light flash out
once.
“No, my dear Ortiz, I am
not going to give you the doc
ument, but, on the contrary,
this!” he cried, and raising
he fired three successive shots
into the darkness. Ortiz
sprang hack.
“What do you mean?” lie i
exclaimed.
A rocket shot up from the
bay, and burst in ten thou
sand stars. Frantic whistles
were heard from the Copper
House, together with an extra
ordinary medley of voices,
knockings, shots and running
feet.
“Co and see what is hap
pening!” ordered Ortiz.
“Do not trouble, for I can
tell you,” said Wallion. “It is
what I have been waiting for
the whole of this long evening;
it is my lieutenant, Robert
Lang, who has come with the
police. ”
Ortiz did not stir, but his
very soul seemed to look out of
bjs eyes, as he fixed them on
his enemy.
“Were you clever enough
for that after all?” said he. “I
could not have believed it. I
admit that I have underrated
your powers. I suppose you 1
think you have trapped me
now?”
“That I cannot say; hut T
do know one thing, Ortiz; this |
is the end of vour glorious 1
dream!” ' I
The adventurer seized a rifl-» ;
and fired at the black sil
houette of the man who had
outwitted him.
“'ion shall not survive
it !” lie shouted. “Farewell,
Wallion!”
The journalist staggered
back, and fell on to the floor.
A loud voice was calling from
some way off:
“The police! Where is the
chief? The police are here!”
CHAPTER XXI
The end of a glorious dream
The stampede began. Two
minutes after the alarm had
been given, not a man was
left near the stable, which was
now burning on every side,
casting a vivid radiance over
its immediate neighborhood.
It struck them later as extra- |
ordinary that the gang had re
treated without a single at
tempt at resistance. The last
shot was that fired by Ortiz
himself, and aimed at his bit
terest foe—Maurice Wallion. |
From that hour, nobody set
8
eyes upon the reincarnated
Napoleon; it is to be supposed
that, like his great prototype
after the defeat at Waterloo,
he apathetically allowed him
self to be hurried away by his
panic-stricken followers, lie
was hopelessly beaten, he had
lost everything, and he must
have realized this; he chose to
vanish into the night. . .
Wallion had not been hit.
Together with Raebel he
.jumped down from the gran
ary, the floor of which col
lapsed a minute later.
“That’s what one may call
a rescue at the eleventh
hour!’' exclaimed the Aus
trian. “But what puzzles me
is how did help come, when
we had been unable to send a
word of our plight?”
“I was prepared for the
worst this morning,” an
swered Wallion; “Robert
Pang had orders to come to
our relief on the stroke of ten.
if he had heard nothing from
me by then. The reason why
I was so anxious to send him
a message, is very simple; the
submarine, of course, neces
sitated special measures, and
I am afraid that Lang has
omitted to take them.”
This simple explanation
made the Austrian open his
eves; he gave a prolonged
whistle of admiration, and
said:
“Wallion, you’re an out
and-outer!”
Policemen, in plain clothes
and in uniform, now began to
spread around the Copper
House in a wide semi-circle,
and they went to meet them.
Robert Lang was at the head,
with several police officers of
higher grade.
“Hallo, Lang!” cried Wal
lion. “You are punctual,
thank goodness, but tell me
quickly, how things stand as
regards the channel into the
bay ”
The young man stood still;
“The channel into thj bay?”
lie echoed.
“Yes. Have you a patrol
boat outside?”
“No. Is that necessary?”
Rachel threw up his hands
at this question, and ex
claimed :
1 hen Ortiz will get away!”
Walhon briefly explained
the situation. The news of the
submarine created a sensation
and one of the policemen hur
ried off to alarm the coast
guard. After an instant’s hes
itation, the main body of po
lice resumed their march to the
sea-shore. Not a light was to
be seen in the hay, but sud
denly the noise of an engine
wjis heard through the damp,
still atmosphere and a strange,
dark mass became visible in
the channel between the island
and the shore. It was the sub
marine, towing the lighter
after it. The deck of the lat
ter was crowded with men; a
gloomy silence reigned on
board, and the ports of the
submarine were closed.
Lona Ivanovna came run
ning, followed by Sergius,
Sonia and Leo. The last-named
wrung Hie journalist’s hand,
in silent gratitude, but the old
Russian exclaimed:
“What are you doing, Mr.
V\ allion? \ on re not allowing
Ortiz to escape!”
1 he journalist replied,
thoughtfully:
“He can’t escape from him
self.”
She did not understand him.
“And Tarraschin’s memo
randum?” she asked.
p R talk of that by and
by. I have it quite safe.”
(TO B* CONTINUED)
And Then Don’t.
From Answers.
Paul: Arthur wants to borrow 10
Rounds from me. Is he good for
that amount?
Philip: Yes, with proper securi
ties.
’ What would you suggest?”
“A chain and padlock a pal- of
handcuffs, and a watchdog.”
Hurricane Prescntion.
From Popular Science Monthly.
Shooting smoke rings thousands
cf feet into the air from 20 or 30
100-foot steel cones scattered over
southern Florida and the Bahama
islands Is the unusual method ot
preventing West Indian hurricanes
suggested by Prof. William S.
Franklin, physicist ot the Massa
chusetts Institute of Technology.
In each of the cones, a ton or
more of gunpowder would be set off,
the resulting explosion sending up I
a gigantic vortex of 00,000 cubic
feet of air. This Professor Frank- j
lin believes, would start a rising
1 column of warm moist air. causir® !
a small storm to break over each
cone, and thus breaking up energy
which might otherwise accumulate
into one great destructive hurricane.
Professor Franklin suggests that
the United States weather bureau
make a test with small cones in
the tornado region of the middie
west before extensive experiments
costing several million dollars are
conducted in Florida. Scientists who
are skeptical of the plan point out
that past efforts to create rising
currents of air by firing heavy can
non into the sky have proved un
successful.
