A WARRIOR BOLD.
By ST. GEORGE RATHRORXE,
Authtrof "I.ittlt Min Million!." “Tfii Spidir’i
Wtb," 'Dr. JacJt'i Widow’," "Min capria," *U.
C#t>jr!*ht 1901. Street end Smith. New York.
chapter XII.
Waylaid By the Ogre.
This spirited way of doing thiDgs
struck Charlie as just about right.
It suited his own aggressive nature,
always bent upon carrying the war
into the enemy's country and striking
quick blows.
“That’s kind of you. Artemus.” he
said, immediately, “and I shall be
only too pleased to meet the captain.”
Fate decreed that they should
meet Capt. Brand as they sauntered
toward the exit.
Both gave him a cold bow.
It was no more nor less than he
was accustomed to from these friends
of Arline, and yet he looked after
them suspiciously.
Ah! had he but dreamed of whither
they were bound, and for what pur
pose, the ogre would have considered
that the case called for something
beyond suspicion.
“Keep an eye on him, Artemus,”
said Charlie.
“Well, rather. It would precipitate
matters If he chanced to see us meet
the original ghost, of we may so term
Capt. Brand.”
But apparently the ogre had awak
ened to the fact that he was assailed
by a thirst -which would not be de
nied, for the last they saw of him
he was heading in a bee line for the
barroom.
Once clear of the hotel, the two
friends turned along the avenue.
Artemus knew where he was going;
this was his old stamping ground,
over which he had ranged for years,
always searching for that will-o’-the
wisp which until now had eluded his
grasp—a sensation that would take
the theater-going public by storm,
and make his reputation at a bound.
So he led Charlie at length into a
public house, where many men came
and went, where silver and cut glass
gleamed upon the buffet back of the
bar, and tables invited a social chat.
Before they reached a distant table,
Charlie had located his man; it was
easy enough after he had points given
to him.
Nor was Artemus an iola out of the
way in his rough-and-ready diagnosis
of the man's character.
Charlie saw he had been a bluff,
genial sailor, and these years of wild
life on tho Sahara, with the wander
ing tribes of nomads into whose
hands he had fallen, had not eradi
cated these predominant traits.
Warmly he shook the hand of the
wanderer.
Eye looked into eye and read there
the nature of the man back of it.
And Capt. Brand was thanking
heaven mentally that his child had
been beloved by one whom he recog
nized in his soul to be nature’s noble
man.
Long they sat there and con
versed.
The hours passed unheeded.
Charlie was enthralled by what he
heard.
T,here was no braggadocio about
thift man, as in the case of the ogre,
and yet he had evidently passed
through adventures beside which
even the imaginary ones of the other
paled into insignificance.
He asked eager questions about
his child, and it could be seen how
anxious the father was to enfold her
in his arms.
Taken in all, they passed a most
pleasant time of it. and were finally
astonished when one of the waiters
came with the information that mid
night had arrived—it was time to
close the house, and would the gen
tlemen have the kindness to vacate?
Which, of course, they did.
Arrangements were made for an
other meeting.
Capt. Brand also yearned to em
brace his wayward boy. whom he felt
sure he could easily lead Into the
right path.
Charlie walked on air as he re
turned alone to the hotel, Artemus
pleading private business elsewhere.
Possibly his study of dramatic art
included also the stars of the stage,
and he thought it his duty to see
some diving Casino girl to her home.
There were many reflections to
keep Charlie’s poor mind in trouble,
and ward off sleep.
This appearance of the real Brand
on the scene was a remarkable event
—so opportune that he could not but
look upon it as providential. Indeed,
had the affair been left entirely in his
hands, the chances were he would
never have conceived so brilliant a
climax as to raise Brand from the
grave he was supposed to occupy in
Africa, and bring him upon the scene
to confound the ogre.
Little did this latter Individual
dream of what was in store for him,
or that he stood upon a volcano that
was ready to explode.
It was a man very well satisfied
with the way the world treated him.
who sauntered into the Windsor late
that night, and ran upon his bete noir
at the very first turn.
Charlie believed Brand had been
waiting for him; his manner seemed
to declare it.
What could he want?
There was something so exceeding
audacious about the fellow's game
that Charlie was forced to admire his
nerve, even though he felt angry with
him at the same time because he had
deceived Arllne.
Capt. Brand—as we may still call
the old rogue, through courtesy.
though well aware that this was not
his right name—Capt. Brand had evi
dently made up his mind that the
time had come for a plain under
standing with this young fellow who
courted Arline.
He had fortified himself for the in
terview with various potations calcu
lated, according to his way of think
ing, to put courage into a man.
So he had kept watch, waiting for
Stuart to appear.
And doubtless his particular thirst
needed attention at frequent inter
vals.
Charlie saw at a glance tho man
wras hardly himself, as usual, when
the liquor was in the wit went out.
He might have preferred avoiding
the interview if given his choice, since
no good could come of it save to
let this man understand they were
deadly foes; but Brand intercepted
him, and appeared to be decidedly in
earnest.
Charlie knew no reason w’hy he
should run away. He believed he
could give the fellow as good as he
sent, a Roland for an Oliver, and per
haps find a chanco to pick up some
information.
It occurred to Charlie at that mo
ment how much of truth there might
be in the old saying to the effect that
“whom the gods would destroy they
first make mad."
Capt. Brand exhibited a fair sam
ple of it; he was not only mad, but
slightly inebriated; not enough to in
terfere with his utterance, but to
muddle his wits a bit, and render him
incautious.
Of a truth, whisky has ere this,
played the deuce with the most won
derful plans that were ever conceived
in the minds of men.
cnarne coum not rcrtise tne norny
palm offered to him. It had served
Its owner many a good turn, and also
brought him into much trouble.
“I want to see you, Stuart—very
important—couldn't wait till morning.
Come this way, if you please. Know
it’s late, but won't detain you long.
Must get it off my mind.”
So Charlie, obliging always, went
with him.
Brand had his eye on a couple of
chairs in a corner where they would
be isolated.
What he had to say was of a pri
vate nature, and admitted of no
eavesdropper, nor would it have been
safe for any curious person to have
loitered near while he was in this
chaotic condition of mind.
Prudence does not ally itself with
the indulgence in strong drink.
‘'Ah,” said the other, dropping into
a seat, with the air of a weary man,
fairly well loaded, ‘‘this is something
like comfort, Stuart. I’ve learned, in
my long and wearisome exile, the
value of taking it easy while you
may. Trouble flies fast enough as it
is. By the way, excuse me, but I
quite neglected to ask you to join
me in having something.”
‘‘Thanks. I should have declined
anyway.”
“Then no harm done. Now, of
course, you wonder what I've button
holed you for.”
“Naturally so."
“Can't you guess?”
“Too tired to make the effort to
night; besides, I’m not good at
conundrums.”
“Ha! ha! this is a conundrum sure
enough—I consider all girls’ puzzles."
“Then it Is about—h’m—your
daughter?”
‘About sweet Arline, sure enough.
As a fond parent I am, of course,
solicitous concerning her future, and
especially since she will in due time
wish to give up the obedience she has
so willingly shown toward my author
ity, and assume the sacred relation
of wife toward some bright young
man. That solicitude, my dear Stuart,
brings me to a critical moment in
my career—brings me in contact with
you.”
Charlie pretended to be dense; he
even assumed surprise and perplex
ity.
“How can your future concern me,
Capt. Brand?” he asked.
“Ah, you are disposed to be humor
ous, my lad. Or perhaps you wish
to conceal your confusion under a
brave exterior. Very good; every
man to his taste, and I am ready to
meet you fairly. Now let us reach an
understanding.”
“I am quite agreeable," cheerfully.
The returned exile rubbed his
hands together, and new hope forced
a smile upon his face.
“I will say this, Stuart, that of all
the beaux who have come courting
my sweet girlee I don’t know of any
one I would rather have for a son-in
law than yourself,” remarked the
astute captain, soberly.
“Ah, thanks, awfully.”
“Of course, I’m concerned about
her welfare, her future happiness.
What fond papa would not be inter
ested? I have been studying you,
young man, when you little dreamed
your fate was being decided, held in
the hollow of my hand, so to speak.”
“What conclusions did you reach?”
asked Charlie, calmly lighting a fresh
weed from the old cigar.
“I made up my mind that you were
a very clever, clear sighted, reason
able fellow; that my child couid be
safe in your hands, and would never
regret having transferred her lib
erty.”
“That was very good of you,” smil
ing.
“And I finally concluded that the
time had arrived, subject to a condi
tion, when I might give over my
charge forever—when Arline would
no longer be subject to my parental
authority, for you know she has been
a very dutiful daughter.”
“You mention a condition, sir?”
"Yes, only one.”
“May I ask what It concerns?”
Capt. Brand smiled broadly.
"Myself and my future support,” he
■aid.
The oat was out of the hag.
Capt. Brand desired to make terms
with the man whom destiny had ap
pointed to be his successor.
Charlie felt the deepest disgust for
so base a wretch, and determined to
bait him as the toreador does the
maddened bull.
“Let me see, do I understand just
what you mean? You now receive a
certain allowance from your daughter,
which she has willingly given you as
a pledge of her affection. This you
fear may be stopped should she man
ry?”
“Yes, yes; you have it down very
pat.”
“And belieying that I have at least
a fair chance to secure her consent
to be my wife, you are desirous of
entering into some specific arrange
ment with me whereby this allowance
may be continued during your life
time.”
“That is it, exactly; you could not
have hit it better had you thought
the whole thing out.”
Charlie’s manner gave him great
hopes that he had found a ready dupe.
“Now, be perfectly frank, captain
are you fully satisfied with th®
amount?"
“Well, there's a point I wanted to
put before you There are times
when, truth to tell, I have thought the
dear child, of course, unconsciously,
was treating me shabbily. Twice
the amount would put me on Easy
street, and I’m sure she wouldn’t miss
it at all.”
The glow of avarice was in his face
—his eyes snapped eagerly, and Char*
lie could see his fingers working ad
though in imagination they already
clutched the golden prize.
“Ah! twice the amount would
satisfy you, then, captain?” Charlie
queried, softly.
“I am cure of it. And on my part;
I would agree to use all the influence
I possess in order to make her yours
forever. Think of it, my hearty—‘
that sweet girl is worth any sacrifices
There are men, doubtless, who would
quadruple the annuity if they could
secure so rich a prize; but, sir, my
conscientious scruples stand in the
way. Above all things, I must see her
happy.”
Charlie was secretly amused—it
was as good as a play to him.
“A laudable ambition for a fond
parent, I am sure. And the curiosity
I entertained regarding the limit of
your desires has been most amply
satisfied.”
“Curiosity! Do I understand you
aright, sir? Do you mean to—er—
imply that you had no other motive in
making such rigid and searching in
quiries into the sacred feelings of a
parent’s heart? Curiosity, the devil!”
he snorted.
“It is a cool word, but—it covers
the case, so let it pass.”
"Perhaps—er—my terms have been
a little bit too high, and it might be
possible for us to affect a compro
mise.”
“Oh, no—not a bit too high! In
deed, five times as much would not bo
considered excessive if you could de
liver the goods.”
“You doubt my ability?” eagerly.
“I know it for an actual certainty,"
as he looked squarely into the cap
tain’s bold eyes, that now fell before
his gaze.
“I can prove my power over the
girl. I will influence her to turn
coldly from you; when next we talk
terms, my price will be double what I
ask now. There are others, Mr.
Charlie Stuart, who aspire to secure
what you have spurned.”
“What of the fine sense of honor
that compels you to consider your
daughter’s happiness?” tauntingly.
“Bah! mere words, and you know
it!”
“What of that wonderful sense of
intuition which warned you I was the
mate appointed by Destiny to watch
over your daughter's future—and
yours?”
(To be continued.)
MACHINE MADE TORCHON LACE.
Austrian Invention Imitates Hand
Made Product.
Some fair imitations of hand-made
lace are already manufactured by
machinery. A recent invention by an
Austrian named Matitsch renders it
possible to reproduce one more vari
ety, known as torchon lace. The real
article Is moderately coarse but
pretty lace and is used on garments
which it Is desirable to put through
a laundry.
Herr Matitsch, after being associ
ated with the lace industry In Vienna
and inventing a machine which did
not give satisfactory results, went to
Nottingham, England, where he per
fected the model in 1899. It was then
necessary to make the Jacquards for
each pattern that it was desirable to
produce. This part of the work was
performed upon the Inventor's return
to Vienna. Hitherto it has been nec
essary to have a separate machine for
each design. With the Matitlsch ma
chine it is only necessary to substi
tute one jacquard for another, as in
weavipg cloth.
The inventor does not intend to
organize a company to make lace,
says the New York Tribune, or even
the production of more machines. He
has already put nearly $100,000 into
his experiments and is now looking
for a company to buy his rights. The
Nottingham lace manufacturers pro
fess not to be disturbed by the pros
pect of competition and says that
the Matitsch machine will injure
French manufacturers chiefly. In
Vienna the papers think that a new
era in lace making is ahead.
Iu seasonable weather the ssasom
ing often comes high.
Architectural Design
for Beautiful Home
The love of the beautiful is Inherent
In every person born into civilization.
The height to which it finds expres
sion in the individual is governed by
conditions of development. And for
this very reason the general tone of
the home should be characterized by
a distinct flavor of the artistic. The
influence of refined beauty is universal
in its bearings; it is irresistible. Half
the world has sung the praises of a
good woman; all the world admires a
beautiful woman.
Surroundings mold the character
and develop the tastes of children.
Their mental caliber is soft and flex
ible. They are easily impressed by
their surroundings, or what they see.
They are quick to detect differences.
The beautiful, the tasteful, the chaste
and classic in dwellings convey to the
happy possessor the feeling of pleas
ure derived from the realization that
you have a beautiful home. To feel
that your home is artistic. & pleasure
to yourself, your children and friends,
is to have your hand on the throttle of
triumphant bliss.
No cottage is too small for the exer
cise of this fundamental feature.
Smaller houses need the redeeming
feature of design to as great a degree
as the larger mansions. There can be
a depth of warmth and home-like cozi
ness in the “little cottage” that will at
once redeem it from any tendency
towards inhospitality or stiffness, not
by way of crowding, but rather by way
of judicious, appropriate selection.
And we wish right here to disabuse
the reader's mind of the idea that mak
ing a beautiful home is necessarily a
matter of lavish expenditure of money.
Before what is known as imitative
art had any fixed principles governing
production, and before the wonderful
wood working machinery of the nine
teenth century was a fact, the expen
Rive feature was more or less allied te
beauty. But beauty Is In the percep
tlon. It is recognized by fixed prin
ciples of design and architecture. As
these are now more or less a matter
of reproduction, you do not have to
pay for originality in its broader sense.
Vet you secure the same results.
The sublime purity of the design, ths
lack of any attempt at undignified or
namentation, the fascinating repose ol
the simple outline, have a quiet, rest
ful, home like feeling that at once en
raptures us in admiration of the taste
and appreciation of the beautiful.
This unique design, clean-cut out
line, broad, dignified roof, first-story
front stone veneered, rest of exterior
shingles stained, stone porch piers,
compact and handy plan, polished
floors, hardwood finish, complete in
every detail. Cost, $1,700.
He is rich who owns nothing.
New Business Quarters
for the President
The "Little White House” at Wash
ington, as the new building for the
President’s business quarters will
probably be known, is to be in effect
a part of the executive mansion prop
er. One-half of the present large con
tary Cortelyou yesterday, “and will be
constructed In such a style as to har
monize with the ancient edifice.”
The front door of the Little White
House will open directly into a large
reception room for visitors. This will
A DIAGRAM OF THE NEW BUILDING.
servatory attached to the west wing
will be torn down and the rest of it
will remain as a sort of passage, dec
orated with flowers, through which
Mr. Roosevelt will make his way from
his home to his office and vice versa.
“The new building will be directly
in a line with the White House, at the
i west end of the latter," said Secre
immediately adjoin the room of Secre
tary Cortelyou.
Adjoining Mr. Cortelyou’s room and
occupying the southeast corner of the
new building will be President Roose
velt’s office. The southeast corner
room, of equal size, will be allotted to
the cabinet.
Between the large room allotted to
the clerks, which occupies the whole
of the west end of the building, and
Mr. Cortelyou’s office will be the tele
graph room, through which the Presi
dent will be in communication with
all the world. Not only the wires of
the great telegraph companies will run
into it, but also those of the oceanic
cables.
The contemplated building being so
simple its construction will not re*
quire more than ninety days, so that
it will be ready for occupancy in the
fall. Meanwhile the business of re;
modeling the old White House will gc
on, one of the most important features
of this work consisting in the strength
ening of the edifice, which is decid
edly weak, structurally speaking.
Satisfied to Be Publisher.
They are telling In New York of a
man who after putting a large sunt
into a publishing business decide!
that the word “publisher” was mucb
overworked. So he decided that, ina*
much as it was his business to mak#
books, he was a bookmaker. A few
days later he met a politician from uf
the state who inquired as to his bust
ness. “I am a bookmaker," said the
New Yorker, proud of the opportunity
to say it. “Just the man I’m looking
for,” said the politician. “I always
like to take a flyer at the track when
down here. What will you lay against
King Hanover?” The reformer con*
sidered deeply for a moment and then
said slowly: “I am not a bookmakei
any more, only a plain, evaryday pub
lisher.”