w* • ■ ■ - - m m - ■
CHAPTKR XXX\ iCosnst ei>.)
“You!” nhe exclaimed; “1 thought
you were dead!”
"Truly,'’ he said, "anti you rejoice to
And that I still live; Is It not so, Mar
jorie?”
rihe did not answer him; her very
blood seemed to be freezing In her
veins, ami her face wore such an ex
pression of horror that for a moment
even he was rendered dumb.
"Marjorie,” he said, "let me hear
your words of welcome. 1 am an exile
now, driven to seek refuge In Scotland,
to escape the bullets of my foes.”
"Why- why have you come to me?”
"I have come to you for comfort. I
have come to take you with me to share
my Knglish home!"
"To share your, home!" echoed Mar
jorie, "I will not no. never. Vou
have done me evil enough alrendy
hut I am free, I know you now, and
I will not go with you,”
"Vou are free!” he said. "What do
you mean by that, mon ami?”
"I mean,” said Marjorie, "that you
• re nothing to me. Vou have said so,
Anil I know It and I wish never to see
your fare again."
"Possibly, but our wishes are not al
ways gratified. | am sorry you cannot
give me a better welcome, since you
will see me not oiK'p. but many times;
as to being free, that Is all nonsense.
We are In Scotland now, remember;
and yon why, you are my wife."
“Your wife!”
‘‘Ye*, my wife and now. cherie al
though I could use force If I chose, I
have no wish to do so. I ask you mere
ly to fulfill your duty and come with
me to my home. ’
For a moment Marjorie gave no an
•wer; what could she say or do? No
need for him to tell her she war in his
power, she knew it only too well. While
In France he had the power of turning
her from his door, arid heaping igno
bly not only upon herself, but upon
her child; In her own country his pow
er was absolute over them both.
With a wild cry she threw up her
hands and called on God for help and
comfort, hut no answer came; It seem
ed that for her there was no help In
all the world.
CHAITER XXXVI.
HBRIE. a in I for
given?" said CatiB
sidlere, again hold
ing forth his
bands.
The sound of his
voice recalled her
to herself. S h e
shrank away from
him in positive ter
ror.
"Keep back," she
cried; "don't touch me."
"What do you mean?"
“I. mean that 1 hate and fear yon!
Wife or no wife, l will never live with
you again--never, never!”
Uonfldent of his own power, OausRl
diere never winced. He had expected
something of this kind, and was not
wholly unprepared for it. He said
nothing, but Quietly watching his op
portunity, he lifted the child in his
arms. Finding himself thus suddenly
and roughly seized from his mother's
side, Leon screamed wildly, hut t'aus
sidlere shook him, and bade him be
at peace.
"That is what your mother has
taught you. to scream at the sight of
your father. Now l will teach you
otherwise.”
"Give hbn to tne," she cried; "give
me my child!"
“Your child," returned Causaidler*,
with a uneer; "the child iu mlue, I
have a right to take him, and to keep
him. too, aud that iu what l mean to
do!"
"To keep hint'" cried Murjorle; "you
would never do that; you do not want
him l( yon do n»t car* for him. aud he
U all I have In the world."
"Hut 1 mean to keep him all the
aame!"
"You uhall not; you dare not; you
ahall kill me before you lake mv buy.
la-on, my darling, coma to me. conn to
your mother’"
(the utret.-tied forth her arm* to take
the child, when t'aitaaldler*. livid with
paudoit. ruined hu band and utni< k
Iter lu the fair rih. (daggered buck
thru with a cry »h«* Ml »en*ele** to t^e
ground
When uhe opelod her eieu It *raa
quite dark all abuut her, and *• quiet
aa lit* gr tv*
■ l.e.oi ahe moaned feebly, but *o
gqawer tame
tirad unity th* dt Ml**eu pawled awav.
ah* nnww«tiel all that bad onurtad
Mid with a low muau the aank aga-a
SlfM th* ground, trying bitterly
Rut Main her yolta abated, and lot
gg|ta*tl< bniahtng away h*r tear*. »h.
*qt kwwil to wonder again • hat *h«
qyuat do tin one thing *h* wqa -later
mined to b* with h*r thud V** ai
on i rani they mum be toga* bar
•be rune in her feet again and *•*«
gnr*d -w toward th* Ow». Her end
tog |*or* Ml fait hot bf**»t wan ten)
with aoh* and for th* (r»t time ta
her I IN h*gan to inmiaa tb« t*
ootaoom Of thu INrtOe lather ab-m
Oh* hod ho** taught (mat h#r > kit
N woa tad* Wh«m *he taejhad 'ha
|T MkM Mrtberiagtoo, hating
gt i i * Ihorf*' •* her Mag gn«*o*o.
rushed forward to meet her, then wnn
a cry she shrank away.
“Majorie,’ she exclaimed, “what's
wrong, and and where's the nairn?’’
At the mention of l>eon. Majorie
wrung her hands.
"He lias come hark and taken him
from me!”
She looked so wild and sad that the
old lady thought her reason was going.
Her tmri‘ was white as death, and there
was a red mark on her foreheaii where
the mnn had struck her. Miss Hether
ington took her hands and soothed her
gently; when she suw that her calm
ness was returning to hpr. she said:
“Now, Majorie, my bairn, tell me all
about it!”
And Majorie told, trembling and cry
ing meanwhile, and Imploring Miss
Hetheriugton to recover her child.
“Dintia fret, Marjorie,” she said, pat
ting the girl on the head; “there's
nothing to fear. The man's a knave,
we ken. hut he's a fool as wed! Bring
liurm to his own balm, not he! he's
o'er sharp to put himsel' into the power
o’ the (English law! 'Tis the siller he
wants, and 'tis the siller he means to
get!”
"But what shall we do?” sobbed Mar
jorie.
"Do? nothing. Bide quiet a while,
and he’ll do something, mark me!”
"But l>eon what will become of
I.aon?”
"Ilinno f * . .. it.. 1.. I .... . » ..11 „n
--r* - ■ ■■ • • •• • * ~
lie's safe enough; after all, he's with
ills father."
"Hut he mustn't stop; 1 must get him
back, or It will kill me."
“You shall have him back, never
fear, Marjorie."
"But to-night what can be done to
night?”
"Nothing, my lassie absolutely no
thg. (Jet you to bed and rest you. and
to-morrow I'll tell you what we must
do.”
After a good deal more persuasion
Marjorie was induced to go to her
room, but during the whole of that
night she never closed her eyes, but
walked about in wild unrest.
When the dawn broke she descended
the stairs, and to her amazement found
Miss Hetherington in the dining-room.
Just as she had left her on the preced
ing night. The weary hours of vigil
had done their work; iter face, always
white, was positively corpse-like; her
thin gray hairs were disheveled, and
her eyes were dim. With a piercing
cry, Marjorie ran forward and fell at
her feet.
"Mother!” she cried; "dear mother,
what is the matter?”
The old woman laid her trembling
hand upon Marjorie's brown head and
smiled.
“ 'Tis nothing, my child,” she said.
“The hours of the night have passed
o'er quickly for me, you see, for 1 sat
thinking, and now you see the dawn
lias come. Marjorie, my poor Mar
jorie! 1 wonder you can ever find it in
your heart to call me mother!—see
what sorrow lias come to you through
me.”
"Through you? Oh, no, no, no!”
"Ay, but 'tis so, Marjorie. 'The sins
of the fathers shall lie visited upon the
children unto the third and fourth
generation.' Through my sin you suf
fer.”
"Do not say that—it is not true.”
"Ay, but it is true. Through my sin
you were made a poor outcast, with no
mnthor to auffh mftr vnn no 1,1 *wl
hand 10 guide you. When I think on
it. It break* my heart, Marjorie—It
breaks my heart."
• • • • •
About ten o'clock that morning a
messenger came to the Castle bringing
u note for Marjorie, it was from Caus
sidlere. and dated from Dumfries.
"I am here," he wrote, "with the
child. Do you propose to join me, as
I can force you to do so if I choose, or
am I to keep the child only? I might
be induced to yield him up to you upon
certain conditions. la»t me know w hat
you mean to do, a* my stay here will
not he of long duration, and 1 am
making arrangements to take t^on
away with me. "Your husband."
"I.KON t'M’StfIDIKItK *
Marjorie's first impulse was to rush
to the plate where she knew her child
to he. hut MU* lletherltigtoii rcstraitisd
! her
' tilde a wee, Marjorie," she Saul:
j "we II get the bairn and not lose you"
She dismissed t'au#*ldUr< * itiea.cn
i g»r, and sent her own servant for rtmh
! eriaad.
i When the young man arrived she
«aw him alone, told hint in 4 few words
j what had occurred and pit t'su**t<
j tiiere's tetter in hts band
Hr tug hath the 1 hild JuhituU doth*
erlaad she said, 't in tf ytm have to
kilt the father
bather land |uwh the teller, and, with
these instruction* tinging ia hts sare,
| Weal to t star fries In seek t'aasaidiefr
| at the place mentioned. He ws# tike
! a man demented th* Mow i».*d keen •»
I sadden that he hardly c 1:01.1 *t ,
| uhat H ail vacant he .«n» knew thtt
I he had tailsn from 1 ha brightest hope
j I# ih« hi*i beet despair, aud that h n >
j torch he mast ewdare a living death
i the house he senvaht was * smalt mn
in at .1 of I he hr street# of Inimfr Us,
end bother land knew it •#« tie eg
•e t I the glare t »ad a shock headed
servant girt in the passage sad s«k«d
hr the >'re*. h g«s>bates aha eat
«lg|tac in ihs herns* *
‘‘You'll find him ben yonder" said
the girl, pointing to a door on the
ground floor.
Sutherland beckoned to her to open
the door; she did so. He entered the
room and dosed the door behind him.
Caussidiere leaped to his feet with an
oath. Leon, who had been sitting pale
and tremulous In a corner, rushed for
ward with a cry of Joy.
But before he could reach Suther
land's side his father clutched him and
drew him hack, grasping the child so
roughly as to make him moan with
pain.
• Then, white and furious, Caussidiere
faced Sutherland.
"So, It is you!" he exclaimed. "How
dare you intrude here? Leave this
room.”
Sutherland, who had placed his hack
to (he door ar.d put the key In his
porket. made no attempt to move, lie
was able to keep his self-control, but
his face was white as death.
"Monsieur Caussidiere.” he said, ”1
have come for that child.”
"Really,” said Caussidiere. with a
sneer; "then perhaps you will tell me
what you propose to ofTer for him?
Madame Caussidiere must pay dearly
for having made you her messenger.”
"She will pay nothing.”
"What do you mean, monsieur?”
“What I say. I mean to take that
rhlhl aDd give you nothing for him.
You have come to the end of your
tether. Monsieur Caussidiere. You will
find this time you haven't got a help
less woman to deal with!”
Caussidiere looked at hint with a new
light in his eyes. What did It mean? j
Had the man really power? and if eo^ ;
to what extent? A little reflection as
sured him that his momentary fear was
crrminrllf»«s Slit twrhin.l niicrht t;ilU ns
lie i hose. Caussldlere was master of j
the situation, since with him lay all th*
authority of the law.
"Monsieur,” he said, "you are an ad
mlrable champion. I congratulate ma- I
dame on having secured you. Hut pray
tell her from me that Iter child remains
with her husband, not her lover.”
In a moment Sutherland had eaught
him by the threat,
“Scoundrel!” he cried.
“Let me go!" hissed Cauaaidlere. “I?
you have taken my wife for your mis
tress, you shall not bully me!"
Hut he said no more. Grasping him
more firmly by the throat, Sutherland |
shook him till he could scarcely j
breathe; then lifting him, he dashed ;
him violently to the ground; then, j
without waiting to see what he had
done, lie lifted the frightened child in
his arms and hurried from the place. ^
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Y WHAT train of
circumstances had
the dead Caussi
diere ugain become
quick, or rather, to
express it in cor
recter terms, how
had the Frenchman
escaped from the
perils and pains of
death?
The answer is
Bimple enough. Among the patriots of
the Parisian Commune there were two
Cauasidieres, In no way related to each
other, hut equally doubtful In their
conduct, and their antecedents; and it
happened, curiously enough, that our
Cauasldiere's alter ego had also been
arrested for treasonable practices.
The Paris of those days has been
compared to Pandemonium; everything
was one wild frenzy of hurried and
aimless haste; and the newspaper re
ports, like the events they, chronicled,
being chaotic and irresponsible, it hap
pened that the fate of one individual
was confused with the fate of the other.
At the very moment that one Caussi
diere was lying dead before the sol
diers of the Commune the other was
escaping in disguise toward the Uel
gian coast, whence, after divers vicis
situdes, he sailed for England, to reap
| pear finally in Annar.dale, like a ghost
‘ from the grave, as wp have seen.
(TO BE CONTINUED I
I.ltil** Attention*.
• Evil is wrought by want of thought.
As well as by want of heart.”
If husbands only realized what tho
little attentions mean to their wives
there would be many happier unions.
It is not the cost of a gift that makes
it precious to the recipient. A tiny
hunch of violets brought home at night
betokens the thought given to her even
wltile business occupies his attention,
the most ti ltllng souvenir of a wed
ding or birthday anniversary becomes
a sentiment underlying Its proffering.
Women may be foolish, they may bn
all heart and very little reason, hut ;
the man who understuuda their naiure ;
| and caters to it Is the uae who stand*
higher In their estimation than the 1
• one who ac * as though ail they eared |
j about was material comfort given w tth
any Hurt of brttat<iu*-ri* of eourt# j
\ m tit4io feft#f*#Mnr worn* n th**i- I
*4itikl* iiittl th<»o«4ii«U 4 ho C/tn fttarry
' for 4 Hofei* 4ini fur th h tfelm*tit fbfe*«* ■
gMloll (HMd|» til* tluhU 4tJ«l VtklU* Ufely j
t th* tiuniomU. but lb* f*m
{ tnlfe* Heart, th* non whM» i u*au .
! IIaittai to N H tmiiiti* hi* (Mitt, tit* )
fn taut!-ittbm <*f trfeflfei i.nii| *’ to> i t4
bitv, U fe«to4 hum* toy *{♦* Hi tin At* ]
In * lit* to tit I* intuit *4
ttofeti toy tH# ffiMM (ifrHyyt mtpraMM^fet* |
j |||fe iftfely fe #t*||<w HtklWi* uf i
% 4* 14#* Ik UniiMti
ftiiWMu* y tty *in ift *#}it*it
| i f^4it#rv* * YH*f# 4fe tultl y Hufi ti
{ breakfast sad at • Ike Mksialsd apou
I mv **• an it It was all W% vae# ab#
| staated Is level Ilk lbs MlltlktUM mI
, self deals' \ on ««f pare elkvkkVM 4
ytwa ka4 «kat did yea >ki *
I Ultaapk U* I lek b*t b**e ber
i< akd I ate Ike ikng lbere are few
basbands at* inda'peai a* I tag,” Ike
lew ftaaasrlpt
MAYOR OF CHICAGO.!
CHARMS THAT NOBODY WOULD
SUSPECT.
fi»» m Library ui Knim n.OOO to 4.000
Volume* A (irr«t Render Komi of
NporlH of All KlmU \ ery I iillke III* 1
Fmiiioii* l-'Mtlier.
(Special letter.)
Ol’ might not huh- 1
pert It from IiIb re
cent achievements,
but Carter H. Har
rison, the reigning
mayor of Chicago,
Is a lover of hooka,
and owns a library '
of between 3,000
and 4.000 volumes, I
of which many are .
German and many 1
are French. From this you might
guess that he la something of a lingu
ist, and the guess would lie correct. He
la also an amateur chemist, a success
ful fisherman, a notable hunter and an
enthusiastic wheelman. In fact, to use
the language of one of his friends, he
has "as many fads us a seminary girl."
Jn figure and face he Is comely. He is
of middle size, standing 5 feet 8Vi
inches in his shoes, and balancing pen
ny-in-the-slot machines at 165 pounds.
His features are regular, his complex
ion is free from blemishes, his eyes are
clear, and he shaves clean with the ex
ception of a mustache, which he trains
in romantic curves. He parts his hair
in the middle and trains It also to look
sweet. He is 38 years old.
He never attended a plain American
public school. When a boy he and the
other Harrison children were taken by
their mother to Germany, where Car
t r and his brother entered the Heldel
CARTER H. HARRISON,
berg Gymnasium. For some reason
the boys did not fancy Heidelberg over
much, and after ten months' stay there
the family migrated, traveling for a
summer through southern France, the
Tyrol and Switzerland, after which the
boys entered the Gymnasium at Alten
burg. While there he was a schoolfel
low of a number of Juvenile royalties
and other youngsters of notable lineage,
and between him and the young Prince
of Saxony a genuine close friendship
sprang up. Later, as a son of the mayor
while the world’s fair was on, he made
the acquaintance of many other of the
world's great folk, among them the
Duke of Veragua, the Marquis of Bar
boles, Eulalia, the Spanish Infanta, and
Porflrio Diaz, the president of Mexico.
After finishing at Altenburg he pre
pared for college in a Chicago Jesuit
school, after which he wont through
Yale and later studied law and was ad
mitted. His practice never amounted
to much, however, and when his father
was made world's fair mayor, young
Carter H. look over the father's real
estate business, and. with his brother,
William Preston Harrison, carried it
on till the old man bought the Chicago
Timer* Their conduct of the paper was
a terror to many in Chicago. It had a
circulation of perhaps 20,000 when they
took it, but they supported the Pull
man strike, cut the price to a cent, and
raised the sales to 80,000 a day. They
thought they had a cinch on Chicago
journalism then, but they must have
been wrong, for they were afterward
glad enough to sell out, and the paper
Is now merged with the Chicago Herald
under the title of the Chicago TSmes
Herald.
When they began with the Times
young Carter took the ehalr of manag
ing editor and his brother was made
business manager After a week or two
— perhaps a month each was dissatis
fied with their Job. and they changed
places. IVrhaps the resultlna eccen
tricities of management horn upstairs
and downstairs had something In do
with their ultimate abandonment of the
publishing business.
Carter H. Harrisons < heniital inves
tigations wr:e mostly conducted when
he was a boy. Ills d<-ti used to be in
the < ojeda of the family residence, and
he look great delight in monkeying
with explosives and compotill.U of
fearful smell. Otoe a friend uf the fam
ily, who was passing the house, was
horrified by the sound of a muffled tie
lunation the - rash of glass and the
splintering of wuod Dianein* upward
he saw that the cupola «ss badly
wrecked, while volume, of black smoke
were pouring from the panel*.** «ashe*
At the same Dm* the «d«at odor lots
gtnahte saluted hi* turn, and tn a m»
mem yucMtg llarvlson *mmlged tn the
face and with turn clothes, emerge*!
from iks wreck. lit kb hand# ik* hay
earned g dish uf nus* liquid from
wh h n« »» of th* b i h smoke was
riving Haatewtag to the **tg* uf the
ruuf he put the dtsh 4*.an. hat «i **>#,
teeely as la split the Intwtd. skkk rah
aver th* edge uf the *a**e and **t> ak*d
the n*«If patated sole uf the huaee
■terr where the tmanl dropped it left
g h*aa>l i ..irodieg brown path, aad
these stieaks sprvs.l tg every dice*
Ilea dtafigvrtgg the kuaae so as *, k
kk st it ha t to be pata< t ali aver sg tin
Young Harrison Is said to have begun
the study of chemistry in the hope of
discovering some new photographic
emulsion. He was one of the first am
ateurs In all Chicago to take up pho
tography. and he still uses the camera
a good deal, but he has forsworn chem
istry.
He is not fond of telling the story of
his chemical exploits, but he does de
light to tell fish stories of which lie is
the sole hero. Hempstead Washburn
of the famous family of that name, who
once defeated the elder Harrison for
mayor, and who has aceompanied the
present mayor on many fishing excur
sions. says the stories told by the lat
ter are strictly true, and Chicago be
lieves them all Implicitly. His fishing
outfit includes almost too many rods,
reels, lines and hooks to he counted, be
sides more varieties of files probably
than any other American fly-fisherman
hus in his possession. This Is account
ed for by the fact that whenever lie has
been abroad he lias fished in all the
good waters he eould find, und his gear
is suitable to the Nile and the streams
of the Alps, as well as those of northern
Michigan und southern Florida. They
say he once caught 650 trout in four
days in Michigan, while in Florida he
hooked and safely brought to land a
five hundred pound Jewflsh. He lias
many pictures of fish and anglers in ills
house,and a whole section of his library
1h devoted to books on icthyologlcal
subjects. An enthusiastic Chicago writ
er not long ago declared that the
mayor could give curds und spades to
the man in charge of the fish depart
ment at Idnroln Park, Chicago, and
then beat him out.
According to this writer. Mr. Harri
son is as well posted about four-footed
and feathered creatures as he is about
fish, and eould undoubtedly (are for
the animal house of Chicago's Zoo bet
ter than the men now in charge. He
is generally acknowledged to be one of
the mightiest of mighty hunters and
the stories of his achievements as a
Nimrod would fill a big book. He has
had several narrow escapes from in
slant death, one of which occurred
while he was managing editor of the
Times. He and his brother went fish
ing for grayling in one of the streams
that drain the northern nenlnsiila of I
Michigan, .lust an they were la-ginning
to have some mighty good luck they
heard the crackle and smelled the hot
breath of an approaching forest fire.
Hastily jumping Into their wagon, they
started to drive away to safety, but
while crossing a corduroy bridge on a
dead ran their horses broke through.
The trees were on fire on both sides of
the Hhallow stream spanned by the
bridge and there was no time to lose,
blit it would not do to abandon the
horses. So, working In the scorching
hqpt, they got planks under the ani
mals, pried them out, and, lifting the
wagon around, got away finally by an
other route. But the hair and heard of
both brothers were singed and their
clothes had holes burned in them. An
other time, when the brothers were
fishing, Carter H., who was wading a
turbulent stream, stepped on a bowlder
that turned under him, and was
thrown into the water. His big boots
acted like the air tanks of a life boat,
and kept him afloat, hut, unfortunate
ly, his feet were up and his head down,
and he was thus carried along at least
150 feet down a sort of rapids. Half
strangled as he was, however, he
grasped the submerged roots of a tree
and then climbed to safety. He was in
Florence, Italy, when the earthquake
that destroyed so many houses and
killed not a few occurred. When the
shock came he was asleep in the Hotel
de Vllle. It was split asunder, and he
considered that he had a narrow escape
then. For two or three nights after
ward he and his family slept In an open
square, but succeeded in escaping to
Switzerland without suffering any real
damage. Not long ago a palmist es
sayed reading the lines in Mayor Har
rison's hands and discovered therein
most of the qualities attributed to his
honor in this story. The palmist de
clared the lines showed the mayor to he
a good Judge of human nature and that
he had a strong will power, was quirk
tempered and hated deceit. His friend
ships were strong, and his capacity for
hate made him many enemies. He was
fond of his home and children and was
MAYOR MARKIRON M IIAN1V
» lot rr of beauty. Th* Ilf* tin* j
nhowrti th* h»*»nr h**| • *11 one «un*tl
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t*t**«or* only II* *w nut n *n*n.l
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frvwidvht tndr*** «4tlit< you** 1
mm not t« *» mt» th* n«**|M|>*r h*»t ,
n*M» h* .*tt* It N'M'ltn hr. •*** i
II th*r t« th*y *111 hn«* tw h* *tth*r 1
■trade* r*t*o*t*r« nr »■** **tt th»n»
«*l*«* tw th* yr*dU**« > *•* *I otnnoMt*
• huh *r* nut th*«r wwt». n*t i*
tw.ir*** r**)t» thrnh that alt th* *d
t tor ml wn»*r* vhw irttiv i«*d him I**)
y**r *•»* vrtitne ***!*#« th*tr ««*
Tlrthr#** iM l**ttl l.tM ft***
TO KLONDIKE. SI RE.
THIS MAN HAS COMBINATION
BOAT AND SLED.
\l«». He IIh* seenretl » (barter lore
liter. I.ut* of riitplp Are to l»<r
With Hint Mud Hind Thennelie* t<»
limit Nugget*
(Special Letter.)
A VINO braved th»
perils of the deep in.
every section of the
world, .1. T. Ma
thews, who recent
, — ly brought thi»
, weather beaten,
[lii ‘ personality to an
chor at Baltimore,
*«% ~ is about to start on,
a trip to the Klon
dike. in company
with several other venturesome spirits,
with a novel boat of his own Invention,
Mr. Mathews’ new boat Is of such an un
usual design that It has excited a great
deal of ridicule from the marine ex
perts of Baltimore, but he meets every
criticism with the one remark: ”1
have sailed on every ocean and com
mercial waterwary of the world, and
therefore I know w hat suits the Pat iflo
ocean.” Mr. Mathews’ vessel is built
on the order of a catmaran, but lie has
gone the twinbull Idea one better by
providing bis boat with three hulls. Ho
has constructed the boat for a twofold
purpose going through the water and
where water ends and ice begins to*
glide over the frozen surface, this be
ing made possible by the equipping of
the three keels with steel runners.
The boat is 34 feet 6 inches long,
THE COMBINATION CRAFT,
nine feet beam, and will have a carry
ing capacity of 35 tons. Owing to the
number of hulls the sail area of the
craft will be enormous. The total area
will be (170 square yards. When ready
for launching the three hulls will be
bolted firmly together with three mas
sive cross timbers. The combination
of boats is built to accommodate 13
men. Each of the boats will he pro
vided with cabins containing berths.
The center boat of the craft will be
shipped by rail in sections to Seattle,
where the two smaller boats will be
added. Mr. Mathews has formed his
party of Klondike explorers into a com
pany, to be known as the Mathews-Ta
by Alaskan Mining and Trading com
pany, which has been regularly incor
porated for the purpose of carrying on
business in the gold fields. The pros
pectors will go by rail to Seattle, and
will there embark on their three-hulled
boat and set sail for the Yukon coun
try. Snow falls all the year round in
the part of the country to be traversed.
Mr. Mathews regards "three” as a mas
cot number when gold mining is the
object in view, and In addition to pro
viding a trio of hulls for his Yukon
craft he has caused each member of the
party to sign a binding agreement that
they will work together, prospecting
and digging for old in the Klondike, for
not less than three years.
He explains his reason for putting
this limit on the combined efforts of
the party by stating that three years
is the length of time that he considers
it will take for each man to acquire a
sufficient quantity of Alaskan yellow
metal to enable ull to return with a for
tune.
w ,ttk**i joa.uso Mile*.
From th« larndon Mall: A Mr. Rob
erts. for thirty-throe y«nr» postman
of Wiling In the Fyble. North laui
easehlre, has Just retired. For twen
ty-two years lie walked from Wiling
to Fleet wood and back twite a day. not
to mention many perilous trips In
crossing the river Wyre during periods
of storm. A calculation of live tulles
each way. four time* a dnv tin addition
to tils round at the villagei. six day*
in the week, for twenty-two years,
shows that be walked 137.3x0 miles be
tween Wiling and Fleetwood In the
fulttUinen! of bis duty. (String this
time b« must have • nosed the ttlvsr
Wire ia hy no means pleasant task to
the w nter timet 3? 157 times. His
duties sere considerably Ugh rued
when *teven years ago the government
'Iwlilwl to bring the mails to Wiling
by a Sol her route Though this did
away with Mowing the rtver it did no*
redu' • the diet ant e Wist man Hotterta
had to wailt »e»y much iactto!tag the
village delivery, ge must ig his thirty
th»»- ect. ur-rv.e in* aalhed so
ieaa lhag IK.Kw mites
he t'*>SSw«.
"I am s pouf, motherless gut*’ fate
isrsd livaagsiigs. her vutes guava* ing.
Hu Jamss hMaut, smith eras not a
man vastly in b# balked I do not *t«
pert my Vlh * ke replied, gently al
beit awmewhai iepruas hfwlly ’to ha
balk rich aid m«* bar lass iwirett
ImiuI
