Dy FREDERICK upham Adams I Author of *'The Kidnapped Millionaires,’ “Colonel Monroe's Doctrine,- Etc. I COiPTBlCHT, 1903, BY iJtolMgyjJttUH ADAMS All rights reserved < C0PYBIQ8T, 1902. BT A. J. PK1SIL BlDDbl CHAPTER EIGHT—Continued. ■When the launch approached, Ar thur ’Morris was seen in the bow. There were several richly dressed yP4Pg women in the party. John Burt saw at a glance that Morris and some of his companions were under the in fluence of liquor. Jessie guessed as much, and her suspicions became a certainty when Morris stepped un- j steadily to the landing and came toward her, a vacant smile mantling his face. “A thousand pardons. Miss Carden.” he said, his voice husky and his body very erect, but wavering. “A thou sand pardons! Detention unavoidable, assure you—un’vold’ble detention, as sure you! ’Sail right, though; ’sail right now. Allow me. Miss Carden." and he stepped forward to offer his arm. John Burt remained by Jessie's side. “Do not dare to speak to me, sir!" cried Jessie, shame and anger driving the crimson to her face. "Don’t let him come near me> John!” she ex claimed, clinging to Burt's stalwart arm. “Stand back, Morris!" said John in a low, clear tone, a glitter in his dark gray eyes. “You are in no condition, sir, to meet Miss Carden." K- r " -V The flashily-dressed throng of guests was grouped behind. Arthur Morris. One of the young women grasped Arthur Morris by the lapel of the coat. “Come on. you fool!” she said with a vindictive little laugh. “Don’t you see you're not wanted?” She turned him half round and Kingsley grabbed him by the- arm. “Come along, commodore." said that young blood. "You are in the wrong pew, commodore! Cheer up. sad sea dog; we may be happy yet!” And with laughter and taunts the guests of the Voltaire led the yacht’s befuddled owner along the pier into the grove. John Burt’s face was radiant as he made the promise. The sail was raised, and they start ed back toward the grove. John help ed Jessie to the landing, and turned to see Sam Rounds running toward them. “Excuse me.” said hV> breathlessly to Jessie. “I want you, John!” He drew John aside. “Arthur Morris and his friends are drunk in the hotel.” he said excitedly. “He says he’s go ing to kill you, and he’s insulted Miss Carden half a dozen times.” John's teeih were set and his hands clenched, but his voice was calm as he turned to Jessie. “I must go to the hotel for a few minutes. I’ll meet you and Sara later.” he said. “You'll excuse me, won't you, Jessie?” “Ob. John, for my sake den i get into trouble!” pleaded Jessie, who guessed something of the truth. John walked hurriedly away. En tering the hotel, he say Arthur Morris and five of his male companions seat ed around a table loaded with cham pagne bottles and glasses. John stood unobserved in the deep tering the hotel,h& saw Arthur Morris was attempting to sing, hammering on the tabfe with a cane to beat time. You’re a fine Lothario, commo dore!,” said Kingsley, as he slowly fillet! his glass. "After all your boasts you let a yokel cut you out. shako his fist in your face, and sail away with the fair maiden! Your amours weary me! ” “Hold your tongue, Kingsley!” growled Morris. “You'll sing a differ ent tune a few weeks from now. As for this fellow. Burt, I'll horsewhip him the first time I meet him! You need not worry about my success with the Carden. I’ll wager you that in less than a year 1 will—” John Burt glided across the room, grasped him by the shoulders, drag J7ZX2PA3 . ZJET.S*7?orw txpcwj&sjzttr a Jessie shed tears of vexation, but anger dried her eyes. She turned to John with a wistful little smile on her lips. •'Take me out in your boat. John,” she said. “Let’s get as far as we can from those dreadful people.” In a few minutes the Standish bob bed saucily at the landing, and Jessie stepped on board. The wind had scarcely filled the sail when Morris came running down the pier. He stop ped at he saw the pair in the boat, and glared at them as they glided away, brute rage showing in every feature of his flushed face. His friends followed and led him back. Little was said between the, two as the boat moved swiftly along. Each was busy with thoughts,, and both seemed under the spell of threatened trouble. ’ John pointed the boat for Minot’s Light, and having passed in side followed the rocky shore, avoid ing the reefs and shoals, which were to him as an open book. “Tell me a story, John, or any thing! We’re both awfitlly stupid ta jiay. Don’t you think 60?” : “I will tell you a secret—two' Secrets,” said John, gravely. ‘Txin't fell me secrets if you wish' them kept, John,” laughed Jessie. “I’m a regular tell-tale!” “You will keep these secrets—at least, one of them." replied John. "I’m going away. That’s the first secret.” “Going away?” echoed Jessie. “ Where, John?’* "Out West—-to California.” “Going to leave Harvard? Going to California? Surely you’re joking! What does this! mean,’John?” The little face was serious now. “That is the second secret, Jessie.” There was that in his voice and in his eyes which thrilled the girl by his side, Jessie’s soft brown eyes ripen ed wide, then dropped as they met his ferVent gaze. “I am going away, Jessie, because I love you.” The little hand became Imprisoned in a tender clasp, and she listened as in a dream to the words which clam ored for her love. “Listen to me, Jessie—listen to mel” His voice was commanding in jfts earnestness. “I do not ask you to love me now., I do not, ask you to promise to fife wife,, L only «Bk fou to knoW^thutr LftWe'yob? to know there is one man who has no thought your welfare; who fiber-'; isbes no ambition other than to see you showered with all the blessings and honors which God can grant to a good woman. That is my ioye, Jes sie! If some day I have an honest right, to ask your love in return, I shall dp’ip, making no claim on Pur old friendship. • May.I love you that w«yf* gay that I may, Jessie?” “ '. *I-r-i want you to lore me, John, but please don*t apeak of it again, John!*-! said .Jessie, raising her eyes gllstenin£”f?th; before; ;‘T Iqgs are . , ’r* | ged him from the chair, and with a grip of iron shook him as a dog does a rat. His wineglass fell with a crash to the floor. “Another word, you drunken insur er of women, and 1 will beat your head to a pulp!” Morris’ guests threw themselves be tween the two men, and John relaxed his grasp on Morris’ neck. Dazed for the moment, Morris recovered him self, and his face became distorted with rage. Seizing a heavy bottle, he hurled it at John’s head. The bot tle missed its mark and crashed through a mirror. Reaching into his pocket with a quickness wonderful in his condition, he drew a revolver, and before any one could interfere fired pointblank at John Burt, who was not three yards away. Like a panther, Burt leaped under the leveled arm. A second shot struck the ceiling. In a writhing, struggling mass, amid overturned chairs and tables, and the flight,of panic-stricken spectators, both men lurched heavily to the floor, John Burt uppermost. As they fell, a third shot was fired, the report being muffed As the shell ex ploded within their close embrace. . : The^ipolyng weapon, fell to lie floor from the nerveless grasp of Ar thur Morris. John Burt seized it and thrust it into his pocket, but the pre caution was unnecessary. Mortis lay on the sande’d floor of the inn. stark and deathlike, a frown upon his race. On the' white flannel shirt above his heart was an ominous smear of red, slowly widening ih a circle with each respiration, before the: eyes of the men w'ho bent over him. A froth tinged with blood oozed and bubbled from his mouth. - CHAPTER NINE. The Parting. John felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and, turning quickly, faced Sam Rounds. “Fer God's sake, git outer here. John, as soon as ye can!” whispered Sam. John hung back defiantly. “Come on, John, Jessie’s waitin’ fer ye?” At the sound of Jessie’s name a wave- of- agony sweptover John Burt. With a glance at the motionless form he turned and followed Rounds. Ke was raised fp stojp hfm. Thd ^tnonses of the trag edy, held in a spell, had eyes fdr ■ »»ugfct«but''ita~vietim. J Jessie ran. forward to meet him, her face white with fear. “Oh, what has happened, John? What has happened?” Her voice trem bled and her lips parted with a vague terror. “Are you Bhot? Are you hurt, John? Oh,-tell jne.iJghn**:,'; . 7 “ “I’nt not hurt, darling,’' said John, Ip4king iptso the uplifted eyes. “Some-; thing >hae happened, and we must lea'fe' at Opee. I will tell ydu>bdyt ft; on the way borne*’’h- j x 7 r ' 7 By a stern .gffort John Burt master-’ eA his emotions and calmly told Jessie what Had happened.7He said hfyword of the Shameful iusulth. in.,which her drinking place. Wile .explained ithifr/ui i ts had been shot with, his own weap* on. Jessie listened breathlessly. It had grown so dark that John could not see her face, but there was a tremor in her voice when she asked ”Will he die. John?" fear- so," replied John. It might have been imagination, but lie thought that Jessie shuddered and drew away from him. They heard the rapid beat Of hoofs behind them afad she clutched his arm. Out' of the darkness a horse, madly ridden, dashed forward, and was pull ed back on his haunches by the side of the carriage. A face peered in— the homely but welcome face of Sam Rounds. “Drive on as fast as ye can, John,” gasped Sam. *Tve thrown ’em off the scent. I ran the Standish out inter the bay, set er tiller an’ let ’er go, an’ come back an’ told ’em you had given ’em the slip that way. Pretty slick, eh? You bet none o’ them dudes can get the best of Sam Rounds! Git up!” Sam gave the horses a cut of the whip which sent them dashing down the road. A few minutes later they reached the Bishop farmhouse. Sam held the excited horses while John helped Jessie to alight. “Jump on my horse and git!” said Sam in a whisper. John drew Jessie to the shadow of a maple and held her hands in his. “Jessie, I am innocent, but the world will hold me responsible for the death of that blackguard. Sweet heart. I had dreamed of bridging the gulf between us. I had faith that some lucky star would smile on my ambitions: that my youth and health would one day make me worthy of the grandest gift God gives to man— the love of the woman he worships! That hope is not dead, but it has gone far from me, 1 must endure either imprisonment and disgrace at home or exile abroad. I can face, either, J< . io, if 1 have the suppon of your friendship, and the knowledge that you hold me guiltless. Can you give me them, sweetheart?’ “Both. John.” said Jessie, softly. “I —I—shall pray for your success. Go now. John! Take Sam’s advice end mine. Good-bye, dear!” There were tears in the sweet voice. “Will you kiss me. Jessie?”. (To be continued.) A Teacher Taught. Dr. Vaughan, for many years head master at Harrow, once had an amus ing encounter with a small boy who carried oft the honors of the occasion. The incident greatly pleased the doc tor. A frightened child named Dodd was brought before Dr. Vaughan, charged with some dire scholastic offense. ‘ What Is your name?" asked the master, with due severity. ‘ Dodd, sir,” answered the trembling boy. “Dodd! Do you spell it with one ‘d,‘ or with two?” “No. "sir, three ” answered the hoy. The doctor put his head upon the desk, covered it. with his hands a moment, and then dismissed the dan gerous criminal with a warning. He said afterward: "I could no more have punished that boy than I could have flown. Nobody before ever gave me such a lesson in spelling.”— Short Stories. A Bright Boy. Judge E. H. Gary, chairman of the executive committee of the Steel Trust, used to live in the Illinois town of Wheaton. “One day in Wheaton.” Judge Gary said recently. “I took dinner with a clergyman and his family. The clergy man had an eight-year-old son called Joe. and Joe was a very bright boy. “‘Look here. Joe,’ I said during the course of the dinner. ‘I have a ques tion to ask you about your father.’ “Joe looked gravely at me. “‘All right; I’ll answer your ques tion.’ he said. " ‘Well,’ said I, ‘I w'ant to know If your father doesn’t preach the same sermon twice sometimes.’ “ ‘Yes, I think he does,’ said Joe. ‘but the second time he always hollers in different places from what he did the first time.’ ” _ Quite. Feasible. Joseph M. Edwards, who travels for a Baltimore dry gods house, told the following at the Grand the other even ing: “In Baltimore there’s an old bache lor I’m acquainted with who’s a bit of a wit in his way. He lives, ot rather did, before the fire, as it burned him out. in a very dilapidated house, and his rooms were always in great disor der. ' - ' . ; - : “Why don’t you get married?" I said to him one day. “Then you would have some one to keep the place tidy, and make it homelike.’ :: ‘The fact is. I’ve never thought of it.’ he replied, ‘but it seems quite'feas ible < that a better half would want better quarters.’ “Since the fire I have not seen the old fellow, and no one seems to know cf his present whereabouts.*'-—New York Globe. Historic Farm for Sale. Corley HaH farm, a picturesque fenglish homeigfeod on the main road between Nuneaton and Corley, is to be, offered.at ,mbli.c 4’action. Within a short distance was born the War wickshire novelist, George Eliot, and in “Adam Bede” Corley Hall farm fig ured conspicuously. Here it was that the immortal Mrs. Poyser lived, and with her the unfortunate Hetty Sorrel. George Elliot'described the place as it was in the earlier half bf the nine teenth Century. i Since then ft has undergone considerable renovation, but is still yearly visited by tourists .from all pafts of the world. '!* ' , k'fc '■ T i?i i <'.«'■» - ■ i • T * , Wealthy Woman Evangelist. 7 Mary B., Robinson of Pittsburg. ,Pa., is the richest woman evangelist. She is the niece of John G. Robinson, -secretary of the Pittsburg and Lake Erie railway; has a fortune of $500, ^oa^.wj^.oae.Qt, the most luxurious homes in the g^okf W; ShO and imM og”i^s m&MmSf It J Cotton Crepes. Crepe marquise is one of the new spring and summer fabrics that/can be washed. It has a crepe ground of monotones, and is distinguished by embroidered dots. Crepe Jacqueline, another silk and cotton goods In monotones, runs through the gamut of colors from pale ecru to black, with overrunning jacquards. Crepe Ar | mazine is similar to crepe marquise, save that silk stripes instead of dots break its surface. Crepe princess is all cotton, but is a charming fabric. Voile duchess is a new and cheap all cotton goods, with three threads wov en together in such a way as to pre vent sagging of the material. Pompa dour crepe is another new dress ma terial, with the softness of crepe and | the lustre of silk, and printed in Pompadour designs. Blouse Eton. Walking costumes made with short coats and skirts that clear the ground are the latest shown and are charm | ingly graceful as well as hygienic and | comfortable. This one is made of mixed homespun, in tans and browns, 1 with revers of tan colored cloth, and 4674 Blouse Eton, 32 to 40 bust 4673 Walking Skirt, 22 to 33 vaict includes the fashionable tucks in both 1 ! blouse and skirt. The drop shoulders. ! 1 the wide sleeves and the crushed belt I all mark the blouse as essentially ! smart, while the skirt with front and ; back alike and short tucks between is | one of the newest and best Hked. To make the blouse for a woman of me dium size will be required 3% yards of material 27, 2*6 yards 44 or 2 yards 52 inches wide; Jo make the skirt 7*4 yards 27, 5 yartfs 44 or 3^6 yards 52 inches wide. A May Manton pattern of blouse, No. 4674, sizes 32 to 40, or of skirt. No. 4673, sizes 22 to 30, will be mailed to any address on receipt of ten cents for each. Louis XV Ribbons. There iB a suspicion of the influence of Louis XV in the new ribbons. A beautiful long white satin cloak has a cape composed entirely of puffings of chiffon, toning from dark to light. Other effects are produced in evening gowns by placing one color over an other; pink, gold and blue produce a quite delightful nuance, and there are many others, deep purple shading; up to the palest mauve, brown to flam£ color. Panne, velours, mousselines, beautiful in themselves, are capable of displaying lovely coloring to en hance their grace. Borderings of sucjh fur as ermine and minlvgr arfe'A beau The Latest of the Decrees of Fashion —Crepe Marquise One of the New Spring and Summer Fabrics—Jap anese Satins That Are Bound to Be Popular. tiful accompaniment to orchid tones. The various shades that characterize bunches of violets now are notably beautiful, and they often peep out from a background of cerise velvet, while light blue gains an added charm la contrast to the Russian violets. I » ' Voiles for Spring wear show faint colored plaids and raised dots, some times both in the one pattern. Small three-cornered hats are to be worn,: their severity softened by a ribbon rosette holding a falling bunch of flowers at the side. Don’t try to wear that new “Alge rian” blue unless you have a faultless complexion. Some of the spring walking hats are trimmed with foulard handkerchiefs, which show Japanese centers and plain borders. . Lots of tawny yellow shades and umbers will be worn by those who can do so without endangering their good looks. Initialed Handkerchiefs. Men’s smart handkerchiefs once more display at one of the lower angles the exact representation of a wax seal, oerfectlv imitated with the needle and washing silk, either in blue, red, gray or pink. In the center of this solid stitchery are worked out in white silk small delicate initials or Interlaced monograms. Larger and heavier ones are fretted, Richelieu fashion, and entirely embroidered in white silk or lustra cotton within a formal square outlined with stem stitch. Old-Fashioned Brocades. Velvets of light and delicate colors combined with heavy patterned gui pure and rich Venetian and Spanish point are being employed for the most exquisite tea gowns and evening dresses, trimmed with bands of pale and dark fur. We are coming to pan niers. especially for weddings. The mothers of the brides are falling back on brocade, and the guests are often seen in velvet gowns trimmed with chinchilla, the elder ladies favoring black velvet gowns. Veils Are Passing. Veils will be much less worn be cause of the veil effects in the lace trimmings, and feathers, though seen occasionally, will be far less popular than flowers. Roses stand first in fa vor-i-very large and small, and pink more than other colors. And all the handsomest ornaments are in art noveau tinted to match all the spring flowers. Alcohol cleans piano keys; kero sene, oilcloth, table and shelf covers. A tablespoonful of vinegar mixed with three of pure linse»d on will freshen and polish mahogany. For sponging out bureau drawers or sideboards use tepid water containing a small quantity of thymolin. To clean plaster of parts ornaments cover them with a thick coating of starch and allow it to become per fectly dry. Then It may be brushed off and the dirt with it. Polished iron work can be preserv ed from rust by an inexpensive mix ture made of copal varnish mixed with as much olive oil as will give it a degree of greasiness. and after ward adding to this mixture as much spiTit of turpentine as of varnish. ; To clean a clock lay in the bottom a rag saturated with kerosene. The * WITH CAPE EFFECT. , - . * «...■• Waists made with fancy capes, or cape cellars, are both graceful and fashionable, and also are becoming tp the greater numoer of womankind. -one- 4* peculiarly effective .'and makes part of tk costume of .' vioiet seeded voile trimmed vuaeoruKli&cc appHtfue and worn' With a crushed: belt j W meshaliiP? sStfir. The’- tricks, tffet VVer arranged W give a,1 tdke Perfect In ttie' w^t^ranVi,% cph$rie •tfce ^le^fe j closely at th^ th6uraer*£ fe&ftr'idiirfcbft; ■■ ■ • . » ■ ■ " t ~ ; ltiLjtnnlq Jyfi i alij .rl vd ••->?,t«: fullness .below the stitchiugs that means admirable folds and lines and allows the. <1rQOD oyer the wide belt that marto^lbg latest, models. To .make ;the, waist, for ;a woman pi me-. dinm. adze, will,be required 5% yards *>* ih 017,3% yacda 14 inches wide, with * jrai;*; ,04 applique to finish -edges of cape, sleeves and collar.-eedanrur^ ni »*€ H't-A *ltay.*>lfairton^ pfcttenfr,. 'Ro: J&7& ‘vtoeaXi lb Wwtlf be a?a te(^tb mf; ; address *#airi##Ip|fiofyibd jfefrtw$Wtda . fumes loosen the dirt and cause it to drop out. In a few days place an other cloth saturated in kerosene In the clock, The fumes lubricate the works. Red and Pink Combined. A combination of colors most people would exclaim at has become very popular this season. It is red and pink, and brunettes may consider this a blessing, as It is particularly becom ing to their type. Pink is used for the foundation of the frock, and it is trimmed with clusters of cherry or deep poppy shades that blend with it. The effect is very rich, and a hand some gown is the result if care is taken in the shading of the color. Child's Frock. Long-waisted or French frocks are among the most fashionable shown! for the little folk and are charming; in the extreme. This one is made of mercerized blue chambray with trim ming of white embroidery and is em inently simple as well as attractive^ 4862 Child’s Frock, 2 to 8 years. of 5 years of age will be required 3 >4 but the design can be reproduced in manfr materials. The slightly open neck is a special feature and the wide collar is peculiarly stylish and becom ing.# To make the frock for a child yards of material 27. 3*4 yards 32 or 2% yards 44 inches wide. A May Manton pattern, No. 4652, sizes 2 to 8 years, will be mailed to any address on receipt of ten cents. Japanese Satins. How lovely are the gauzes, some of them exhibiting velvet brocade, some satin stripes; many are embroidered with gold wistaria blooms. Printed satins show something of the Jap anese element, and though we cannot quite make up our minds whether we are to. be faithful to silk and return with all our allegiance to It, it Is cer tainly nsakin£ it* way for picture gowps, and soft makes are delicately painted with chine effects. Diaphan ous silk muslme and tulles cannot be beaten for evetflng wear, and the am plitude of skirts show them off well. When making a pudding don’t for get to make & pleat in the cloth at the top of your basin, so as to allow the pudding room to swell. The hands can be cleansed better with Warm water than with cold, but they; should always be rinsed afterward with cola water, as this keeps them in a better condition. A good polish for stoves Is made of one teasDdoplP.il ef powdered alum mixed with the stove oottsfi. The briJIiatoee that this polish will give to a stove wjJjFTast for a long time. To preserve stair carpets put pads of old blankets on each step. If there Is no store of ancient blankets to draw from, a substitute may be made of several thicknesses of brown paper. When a spoonful of borax Is- put into the last water in which white clothes are rinsed, It has the effect of whitening them. Before it Is added to the rinsing water the borax should be dissolved in a little hot water. Popular Laces. Bruges and duchesse figure on many of the new Paris gowns, which means it is hoped that Honiton .will have a look in- It is so pretty combined with soft Suede in belts and in appliques on materials, Black lace sparkles with jet and is accompanied by beautiful collars, which are. more wonderfully cut than iet has ever been, • •' -,2 « - * " ' . < * ..;<•* ‘ » Readers of this paper can secure any May Mao Lon pattern Uiustrnu-a above by tilling out •Ifplaaks In coupon, and mailit g, with 1U cents, toE- E.’ Harrison Boston Traveler. ' ‘ * It Draws Itself. “Yes.” said the artist, ”1 drew this sketch of the scene of the accident -in less than an hour.” "Not all the details, surely.” ex claimed h!s admirer. “All that drowd,” for instance—” “O, *A‘s easy to draw a crowd when you start sketching.’*—Philadelphia Press, Near the Limit. Growell—Speaking of mean men. that fellow Duffey is* about the limit. ’ Howell—How’s that? *•*< Growell—Every tithe he goes Into a crowded barbpr shop for a shave he gets his hair cut juStto keep dthers waiting. Explained./'- ’ /; fDarkins^ seems tp be Very bitter and pessimistic.” He,^ liyed ,lp.. flat building* itf.his Ijfe-and the ja'riltors Rnye, made hipy so,t /i ,.' ' 1 ’t f: \ f", * ’’ MV .i**#>&&**"***:RSte» ,. He d£ v^n.t knpw enou^n. ahoyt [he .aw to be.*, sn.cpassfuj[...la5ti-er,” ' "Well/ Vers make hfm » judge.** *