CHAPTER XX.—Continued. I looked up speechless. Robinson "Locke met my startled glance with ■cool contempt. “That you saved my life?” repeated Helena, in wonder. “Have I robbed my gallant country man of your gratitude, Mi^s Brett?” he demanded carelessly. “Then it was you who rushed down the stairway?” I stammered, my face hot with shame. “Yes, sir,” he said, sternly, “it was I. It is not a pleasant duty to expose the cowardice oL an acquaintance, Miss Brett. I court! have forgiven him his terror. But that he should mas querade as a hero while I was vainly attempting to pursue the blackguard who tried to murder you—that is a little too much.” I confronted him, my hands clench ed in my rage. But I did not speak. A defense was impossible. I stared at him in silence. “I am afraid," he sneered, “that you are rather fond of wearing the lion's skin. I believe I had an appointment with you this morning at ten o’clock.” “With me!” I cried, hotly. “No!” “Then you did not receive the note placed on your pillow last night? Ah, so you did receive it, after all, Sir Mortimer—I beg your pardon, Mr. Haddon.” I turned from him; I looked at Helena. Our eyes met. I did not say one word; I did not beseech even by a look. I had asked her to trust me, but I had not looked for a situation like this. Her eyes fell before mine and they had told me nothing. “I shall leave you to your interview w-ith Mr. Locke,” she said quietly. CHAPTER XXI. I Am Trusted Until Midnight. “Now, Haddon, what is the game?” Locke had seated himself. He had selected with care a cigar from his case (which he did not offer to me), and was regarding me with the brutal amusement of one who has come across a snake sunning in the white road, and who heads off its desperate attempt to escape with a walking stick. I was silent. I refused to be cate chised like a schoolboy. Had I met Locke, his mind still unprejudiced against me, I should gladly ha*e told him everything, even at the risk of making myself ridiculous in his eyes. But his mind was so evidently made up regarding me, his interference had been so fatally ill-timed, that I could not bring myself to the humiliating position of one who beseeches—of one who explains, only to be doubted after all. The episode in the porter’s lodge was even new far from clear. I have already said that I knew that Helena’s escape was not due to any heroism of mine. Dr. Starva had concealed himself be hind the glass partition of the porter's lodge in the landing. Unobserved, I had stood flat against the wall, watch ing him. I had seen Helena coming up the stairs; I had seen Dr. Starva level his revolver at her; I had heard the crash of glass and the report of a revolver. I had supposed that Starva had fired and missed. Now it appeared that Locke's shot had shattered the glass of the lodge, while Starva had not fired at all. But why Locke should have been in the ftalrway—why he should have been concealed there—was not so clear. Certainly 1 had no intention of humil iating myself further by asking for an explanation. “Come; I’m waiting,’’ he cried sharply. “You are waiting—for what?” I de manded with an assurance I did not feel. I was playing for time. Should 1, or should I not, try to make all clear to Locke? That was the ques tion I was asking myself over and over. “You remember I warned you. 1 told you you were a pawn In the clever hands of Countess Sarahoff. I prefer to think that you are her tool rather than her accomplice. But if you have been fool enough to allow yourself to be caught In the net of her intrigue, if you have made your inter ests at one with hers, you must expect to pay the piper as well as she.” “1 see. Yon are Nemesis dogging me to justice?” I had decided. No matter what hap pened I would Keep my own counsel for the present. I was not to be bul lied into a confession. “So you admit that the law has its terrors for you,” cried Locke quickly. “And are you Justice or the Law in disguise? By heaven, you are assum ing a rather high-handed manner. V hat the devil is your right to play the part of inquisitor?” “Gently gently. I said nothing about my right.” “Then I might ask what is your game?” “I make no pretense to any right. I happen to hold the cards. That’s all.” “By that you mean, I suppose, that you have put two and two together and made the sum of five. Well, per haps I say your arithmetic is at fault, and perhaps I don’t choose to enter into an argument to enlighten you.” “We shall see,” said Locke quietly. “Now, Haddon, don’t think that I am simply amusing myself. I am only too willing to give you every benefit of the doubt. You are an American; you have been at the same university as myself; you have suffered from an unpleasant notoriety the past week or two. I went to your hotel at Lucerne and offered you my friendship—” “And you come as a friend now? Scarcely, you will admit that.” “I offered you my friendship. I showed my sincerity by taking you more or less into my confidence. I gave you a chance to confide in me in return. I had seen you fascinated by a woman whom I knew to be a dan gerous companion. When I warned you, you were clever enough to affect a disingenious innocence.” “What shrewd observers you news paper men are!” “That very evening.” continued Locke, frowning, “you dine with her and her accomplice—not openly in the restaurant, but in her own sitting room. Late that evening, in company of Dr. Starva, you take the boat for Vitznau. You install yourself with him in the suite of Sir Mortimer Brett. You assume his character; more than that, you don his very cloak and hat. As Sir Mortimer, then, you have access to his rooms.” “Let me compliment you on the ad mirable manner in which you . have played the spy. You traced me, then, from the hotel to the boat, and thence to the hotel?” “Not at all. I preferred to keep an eye on the big fish in the puddle. It was Madame de Varnier, alias the Countess Sarahoff, whom I was watch ing. I knew that the moth would fol low the flame. When I had assured “And does It not seem to you strange that the partner of Madame de Var nier’s Intrigues should distrust her to the extent of spying cn her move ments?” Locke pulled at his cigar thought fully. I awaited his answer not with out interest. “It did indeed raise the faint hope in my breast,” he returned cynically, "that my friend Haddon perhaps was not so guilty as the circumstances had proved him to be. But. when I remem ber that Captain Forbes was insisting ■on his right to see Sir Mortimer, I could understand that my quondam friend Haddon was anxious for his own neck. I- guessed that he was lis tening to* the futile attempts of the adventurers to deny Captain Forbes admission to the bedchamber of the psuedo Sir Mortimer.” “You have an answer for every question.” “I can put two and two together and make four,” returned .Locke com placently. “But if one of those numbers is x, the unknown quantity? The addition is then not quite so simple.” ^“And the American tourist, Mr. Had don, is the great unknown quantity, i suppose.” He looked at me with cool, level eyes. A big man. in body, brain and heart. Locke had both the virtues of bigness and its faults. To crush ob stacles—that was his method. Finesse he despised. He went to the end in view in a direct line, ruthlessly throw ing aside any obstruction, physical or moral, that hindered. Such a man arrives invariably. He is not to be denied. But he blunders often. He arouses in some natures an instinctive antagonism—a latent ob stinacy—that arrays itself against him quietly but determinedly. He makes an enemy when he might have made a friend. For example, Locke has made up his "What the Devil Is Your Right to Play the Part of Inquisitor?” myself that our beautiful adventuress had retired to her room across the corridor from Sir Mortimer’s suite, I had nothing to do but await the ar rival of the poor little moth, en sconced in a comfortable chair with my cigarette. Allow me to return the compliment and congratulate you on your perfect success in masquerading as the sick Sir Mortimer. It was a de lightful little bit of comedy.” Had Locke taken the boat in the company of. Dr. Starva and myself he would doubtless have observed the episode of the brandy, and drawn his conclusions. His attitude toward me would then have been very different. He would have seen for himself that the comedy I enacted was for the benefit of Dr. Starva. If I ignored Locke’s suspicions of me even now, if I gave to him my confidence at this late date, would he believe that? Im possible! I raged at the network of chance that enmeshed me, but I did not at tempt to extricate myself. I had lain passive too long. I was trusting blindly to fortune. More than ever I was determined to wait my own time before I made my position clear. If I carried my plans to a successful conclusion, the result would justify my actions; if I failed. I should at least have held to my purpose. “Having seen Dr. Starva and your self safely landed in Sir Mortimer’s rooms,” continued Locke, “I am free to join my acquaintance, Captain Forbes, in the garden, meanwhile keeping an inquisitive eye cocked to ward the shutters of Sir Mortimer’s salon. And Captain Forbe s, as well ■ as myself, has his own interests in the missing Sir Mortimer. Presently he sees the light shining through those shutters. He is overjoyed to observe that Sir Mortimer is returned, and more than overjoyed that he can at last rid himself of the burden of his dispatches. You know how he did that, even better than myself.*” “And you are waiting for me to en lighten you?” “All in good time, my dear Mr. Had don. But I have not yet shown you all my hand. Were I tc call your game now, you might think I had a couple of aces at the most. I am go ing to show you that I have a' royal flush.” "It is hard to beat a royal flush, I admit,” I said lightly. “I await developments, ’hen, in the garden. My vigilance is soon reward ed. Shuttera are thrown stealthily back; my classmate Haddon tiptoes onto the balcony; he listens outside the shutters of the salon.” mind that an American, a man of his own university, could not in the nature of things be a coward. Very well, he offers him his friendship in blind faith. But presently this man inter feres with his plans—goes his way without consulting the newly acquired friend. When, therefore, circumstances place this acquaintance in an ugly light he is quite as ready to believe the bad as he had been ready to be lieve the good. In a word, Locke imagined that he had done more than hjs duty In offer ing his friendship and confidence. When he made up his mind that this friendship and confidence was not re turned, his friendship turned to in tense dislike. There was no middle course for him.' He enjoyed a fight quite as much as a love feast, perhaps better. “To resume my narrative,’’ drawled Locke, “you disappear within the chamber. My friend Forbes is having his little interview with you. But presently I see you again at the win dow, packet in hand. You lean far out; you toss the packet into the ba sin of an empty fountain. The shut ters are closed. Your work is finished for the night. And so is mine—that is, after I have rescued from the empty fountain the packet. “Which you promptly returned to Captain Forbes, no doubt.” “Who has a greater right to It?” returned Locke coolly. But he had not returned it to Forbes; I was sure of that. Locke was a newspaper man trained in the school of modern journalism. He had determined on a grand coup for his paper. If the sealed dispatch prom: ised to be of assistance to’ “him he would break the seal. That would not suit me at all. My task was £o hush up the scandal of Sir Mortimer Brett and his mistress. Locke was determined to give it the fullest publicity. Our ends were utter; ly at variance. Every sentence of his recital made me see that more clearly. I saw, too, that the object of his story was to overwhelm me with the certainty that I must make a full con cession to him or slider those conse quences. My one hope was to avert those consequences until my inter view with Madame de Varnier. I hoped everything from that. For the present I need fear nothing from Forbes. Helena had given me her word that she would trust me until midnight. But the silence of Helena ' and Forbes was useless unless Locke also was silent. I awaited the rest of his narrative with anxious concern. “The next morning I bestir myself early, you may be sure of that Cap tain Forbes’ rest had been equally perturbed. Together we discover the startling fact that, early as we had aroused ourselves, our patient with his nurse and physician had been even more energetic. But my discovery is of a nature more dramatic than that of the king's messenger. He imagines that it is Sir Mortimer who has fled. I am forced to the reluctant conclu sion that it is Mr. Ernest Haddon, American tourist, masquerading as the diplomatist. Sir Mortimer Brett. Is it necessary that I enter into ex planations for this discovery, or shall we take the fact for granted?” “Take it for granted by all means, since you have already taken so much for granted.” “I shall not bore you much longer. Captain Forbes and myself join forces. I needed but one argument to persuade him to do that. I knew where Madame de Varnier and her fel low conspirators were bound; Captain Forbes did not.” “And Mrs. and Miss Brett—did you reveal your suspicions to them?” “So far,” Locke looked at me sig nificantly, “I have revealed them to no one. We arrive at Alterhoffen, then, the four of us. Captain Forbes insists on storming the chateau. With what result you know better than I. As for myself, I prefer to keep my counsel, and, first of all, to give my friend Haddon a friendly hint. I bribe one of the servants at the castle to convey a note to him requesting the honor of an interview at ten this morning. My friend Haddon denies me the honor of an interview. Then if the mountain wrill not come to Mohammed, Moham med must go to the mountain. “I am directed to the castle by the stairway that leads to the village street. I have not descended a dozen steps of the gloomy stairway when I hear some one coming up th^m in fu rious haste. Naturally, I pause; and quite as naturally 1 taite tne precau tion of placing my hand on the revol ver in my hip pocket, which I carry with me, remembering the fate of my acquaintance. Captain Forbes. “To my surprise the person in this extraordinary haste conceals himself in the little glass-covered room at the angle of the stairs. I descend the steps cautiously and curiously. There are other surprises in store for me. First of all I see a second figure staod ing flat against the wall. As my eyes become accustomed to the darkness I am startled to discover that the man concealed in the lodge has a revolver in his hand. For the moment I think he is lying in wait for myself. But almost immediately I hear steps from below. There is a click as the trigger is cocked. I am averse to bloodshed —even the killing of a would-be mur derer. I fire, not at him, but to shat ter the pane of glass and divert his aim. “Now for my last, surprise. The as sassin, rather tardily I must say, ha3 been grappled with by the man who had concealed himself against the wall and was apparently awaiting de velopments. But the would-be' assas sin has succeeded in freeing himself from this very faint-hearted assailant. I pursue the assassin; he eludes cap ture; I return ruefully to the hotel to find—my friend Haddon receiving the warm thanks of the heroine for saving her life.” “A great deal of this is ancient his tory,” I said, my voice trembling with shame and rage, “such of it as is not fiction. You return, then, to unmask the would-be hero. And now, what?” “And now,” said Locke in a deep voice,-his face thrust close to mine, “I want to know this: Why were you hiding in that stairway? Why did you stand there passively while the man was committing the act of murder be fore your eyes? Why did you pretend to struggle with the assassin, pretend to struggle, I say?” “Even a coward will fight,; I suppose, when he is cornered.” I said bitterlv. (TO BE CONTINUED.) I _' To An Audience of One And He Was the Janitor of the Opera House. “I never see it snow but I am re minded of one night in Colorado,'’ said Jess B. Fulton, of the Fulton Stock company, a few days ago, as he watch ed the white falling llakes. “We were playing in Colorado one night stands, and we struck a small town in the mining country. It snowed all day, and at night you could not see a foot ahead for the blinding storm. Some how the members of the company reached the theater and then waited for the audience to come. In abont an hour a man entered and took a seat near the door. A consultation was held back of the scenes, and I was se .... , « -W". . if, -'J . ' - lecuid to go out and explain the situa tion to the audience. I stepped in front of the curtain and, clearing my throat, said: “Sir, I am glad to see that the storm did not keep you away. We have de cided to leave to you the question of whether we will have the show or not You are the only man here, and to morrow night we must make the next stand. We will give the play Just ,as billed, if you ask it, but if you" have no obj—'* “Say, pardner," interrupted the man, '1 wish you would cut out that flow of gab and let me shut up this here house. Don’t you suppose the janitor wants to go home some time? When there ain’t nobody cornin’ let me lock up, will you?”—Kansas City Star. DINNER FOR FOUR DAInYy REPAST THAT CAN BE SERVED FOR A DOLLAR. (Carcfiil Planning and Proper Prepa '‘•rations .All That Is Needed for' This Correct and Sat , isfylng Meal. A dinner for four is a modest enough undertaking for the little bride who knows a thing or two about cook ing, but a; dinner for four, to cost not over $1, is a rather more difficult prop osition. It is perfectly possible, how ever to accomplish this task if the cook is willing to plan carefully. To start with, a simple outline of the menu could be something like this: Savory tomato soup, followed by broiled lamb chops, with mashed potatoes and string beans, an aspar agus salad for a third course, and the dessert of strawberries. In making the tomato soup for the first course, it is possible to utilize small portions of cooked vegetables, which may be on hand. If there are a few boiled potatoes, a half cupful of string beans, and another portion of peas or other vegetable, they will make a good beginning. Add to them two raw onions finely chopped, and a handful of mince parsley, together with a couple of ounces of butter, and a seasoning of salt and pepper. After these ingredients have simmered for a few minutes, add a can of tomatoes. Season with a teaspoonful of allspice and a tablespoonful of sugar. Cook this slowly for a half hour and then strain through a fine sieve. Thicken the soup with a teaspoonful of corn starch, mixed with the same amount of melted butter. Serve the soup gar nished with Bmall strips of fried bread. For the meat course have the lamb chops broiled to a perfect brown and serve them on a pretty platter, or bet ter still, a chop plate, with the pota toes arranged in the center. Stand the chops up around the mound of pota toes. The string beans should be broiled till tender and drained. Cook for two or three minutes in a little butter and cream and serve very hot. The asparagus for the salad should be cooked in salted water and then cut into pieces an inch long. Chill for several hours on the ice and serve with a dressing made of ^he grated yolks of two hard boiled eggs, beaten up with three talespoonfuls of oil, the same amount of vinegar, a salt spoonful of salt and the same quan tity of French mustard. Thre strawmerries for dessert may be served with sugar and cream, or may be cooked in little tarts and served with a spoonful of whipped cream on each. Maple Transparency. Place an Iron frying pan on the stove and into it put one-half cup but ter, one-half cup sugar, and one cup maple molasses. While this is melt ing break in four fresh eggs, not beat en, and stir sufficiently to prevent the eggs from cpoking in a mass. Cook and stir until the mixture is dry nearly in the frying pan and is trans parent in color. Then remove from the fire and let stand while you line a deep pudding dish with a rich pie crust. Add one cupful of juicy fruit to the transparent mixture, pour into the pudding dish, and bake. Tart fruit is best, such as cherries or rasp berries, but any leftover will do so long as it is juicy, because if it is not tart enough a tablespoonful of vine gar may be added. Chicken Croquettes. One cup of cold chicken chopped fine, the same quantity of fine bread crumbs; one-half can of mushrooms, cut in small pieces; a small piece of onion grated; a little parsley chopped fine, one-half teaspoon of salt, one fourth teaspoon of white pepper; make a cream sauce of three-fourths of a cup of milk, one tablespoon of bqtter,. and one of flour; when cold blend ysith the above ingredients, mold in a small wine glass, and egg and crumb them, instead of cooking them in lard. Butter a pan thickly and bake in good oven. Insert a sprig of parsley in each and if desired serve with a rich cream sauce. Keep Screens From Binding. When you put on your screens, if you find that they bind, don’t fuss and waste your strength trying to force them into place, but scrape the paint oft the grooved edges, using a piece of broken glass or sandpaper, then grease the runs (grooved edges) with lard. If your screen door binds on the bottom plug with soft wood the lower hinge holes in door frame, then with opposite end of door, when closed, resting on a match, attach lower hinge in new place. To put screws into hard wood first make small hole with nail or drill, then coat screw with wet soap before inserting. Shortcake With Ice Cream. Bake a large sponge cake in a round tin. aijd while warm cut off the top and take out most of the inside crumb; when perfectly cold fill this center with a plain white ice cream, replace the cover and put powdered sugar and berries over the top and a ring of berries around the edge; in cutting slice through.—Harper’s Ba zaar. Pineapple and Celery Salad. Cut onerhalf cup of celery and one tablespoon of pepper in small pieces and mix with one cup of shredded pineapple! Add one tablespoon of nuts, mix with mayonnaise, and when very cold serve on curly lettuce leaves or in apple, shaddock or orange cups.— Good Housekeeping. To Keep Meat* Fresh. A barrel filled altout half full of fresh charcoal, with wooden slats nailed across the top in which sev eral meat hooks are driven, is most useful for keeping meats fresh in summer. It should l»e covered with a piece of wire netting fastened to a wooden hoop. . ' * ■ —-----! Gleaning Tips. After washing they are beaten upon a table or broad prepared beforehand by being thickly covered with flannel. The method of beating is, first up, then down, continuously until all the fibers are aloe and Huffy. Mr. William A. Radford will answer questions and glfe advice FREE OF COST on all subjects pertaining to the subject of building for the readers of this paper. On account of his wide expe rience as Editor, Author and Manufac turer, he Is. without doubt, the -highest authority on all these subjects. Address all Inquiries to William A. Radford, No. 194 Fifth Ave., Chicago, 111., and only enclose two-cent stamp for reply, A very roomy cottage and one well adapted to a growing family is given in this plan. There are six rooms and a bathroom on the ground floor and a chance to make two splendid bedrooms in the two principal gables. It is not a very expensive house to build, although it is 34 feet wide and 60 feet long. Under favor able circumstances it should be built complete for about $1,600, and it con tains as much room as an ordinary eight room two-story house with a a greater opportunity for closets and storage room. One fault with modern houses is the lack of storage. It is a great con venience to have plenty of room and to have places to put things so you can find them without digging them out from under a whole lot of other things. People who live in cities ex pect to be crowded, because there is not room enough to go around, but in the smaller places every one should be accommodated with all the room they need and a little to spare. I like to see a house big enough tc supply a separate bedroom for each person in the house. It is a great deal more healthful and a good deal more satisfactory. Every person is more or less selfish, and each one likes to have his or her own way, and the only solution is to have plenty of room so every one can be accom modated. There are different ways of doing this. One is to build a big house and spend a lot of money, the other is to build a smaller house that is better planned. Give less room to halls and parlors and more room for the com fort and convenience for the regular inhabitants, less show and more util ity. There is a certain amount of run a pipe to it from a filter connected with the bottom of the cistern. Then all you need is pipes to carry the wa ter and an air pump to force air into the .boiler shell to force the water into the bathroom and up to the kitchen sink. In rural communities old boiler shells may be bought for very little money. Shells that are no longer safe for steam pressure may be used for water tanks with great satisfaction. The waste water from the bathroom and from the kitchen is easily taken care of by a cesspool which need not cost to exceed $10. This arrange ment does away with carrying water either in or out, a saving in labor which is sufficient to pay the entire cost in one year, and the machinery is there for use as long as you want it It is not necessary to have a very large tank, but of course the larger it is the less attention it requires.. A tank holding six or eight barrels would probably hold water enough to last a week and by carefully filtering the water the tank will not need cleaning out more than once a year. Place the top of the tank as low as the bottom of the cistern, so it may be filled by gravity. Put the air pump in the kitchen so the pressure may be increased easily without run ning down cellar to do it, and have all the connections air tight. Of course any boiler shell that is steam tight is also water tight and air tight. You need a little fall to carry the waste water away to the cesspool, but of course all houses are built • on ' ground that is high enough to pro vide drainage. An arrangement of this kind when properly put in is just as serviceable as water supply and sewer drainage in cities. Such cdn vehiences cost no more in the first place than city water and sewer con nections, and the home outfit is cheaper to run afterwards. City water costs an average householder from eight to ten dollars per year, and the city man is just as liable for repairs satisfaction in showing off your habi tation to friends and strangers, but there is very little real solid comfort in it. Most of them praise you to your face and criticise you afterwards. I have found this out, that it is very difficult to please everybody, and I would rather please my own family than to waste a lot of time in a use less attempt to please others. I would rather build a cottage like this for $1,600 and have a bedroom each for the boys and girls than to put up an elaborate house costing twice the money with the expectation of making a good deal more show. I like this cottage house for this reason; it gives a grand opportunity to establish a home for the family that will foster contentment and happi ness. It costs more theoretically to heat a cottage house than a regular two-story structure, but practically you get more comfort for the same 1 1.00It PLAN amount of coal in a well built cottage house than you do in anything else. Of course cottage houses are always built in small towns or in rural com munities where coal is cheaper, be cause storage is not so much of an ob ject and because it costs less to haul it and to handle it. One great ad vantage of living in a small town is the cheapness of fuel and provisions. What we eat constitutes a large part of our living, then if we have money enough left to buy coal and wood we ought to be happy. Most of us get more than we deserve, but we don’t realize it at the time. There is a good comfortable bath room in this house and that is a thing to be recommended even in cottages. With a bathroom on the first floor and an attic like this over the Icltchen the water Bupply is easily managed. Teu just build a cistern at the back of the bouse and put an old boiler shell in the cellar for a reservoir tank and as the man who 1ms his own water and sewer system, and city plumber’s charges are enough to scare a person to death. Two Famous Bells. Two monster church bells, the “Bummerin” in Vienna and the “Sav oyarde” in Paris, have been the sub ject of much discussion recently. “They are both silent bells,’’ says a writer in a Hamburg paper, “but for different reasons.” The Vienna' bell,’ cast in 1711'from captured Turkish guns, hangs in the tower of St. Steph- ‘ an’s, and for many years its deep * tones boomed from the belfry, call ing people to prayer and to assem' blages of joy and of sorrow. But' the nerves of old St. Stephan’s could not stand the heavy thundering, and the “Bummerin” was silenced. Now there is an agitation to build a suit able tower for the bell. The French silent bell was a gift from the peo ple of Savoy for the Church of the Sacred Heart at Montmartre. Before the monster could be placed in a bel fry It was discovered that In casting or transporting the bell had sustained a fracture, and that vandals had' bored holes in the outer part and had filled them with lead, thus ruining the great bell’s voice. Nothing remains but. to recast the bell. This will take some time' aid when it has been ac complished the firmament In religious France may have cleared to such an extent that the bell may be christened 1 as Schiller’s bell—“Concordia.” *' " " The Spanish of It,, . . In 1876 the late John Hay, who died as secretary of state, and- Alvey A. Adee, who is now second assistants - secretary of state, were serving, to gether in the legation at Madrid. , They were intensely interested ill1 the outcome of the Republican nation: al convention, and spent days wonder-' • '* ing who would be nominated’. > ’One f< ' morning they found this item in a*.-"' Madrid newspaper: ■ “Rutebart lit. ’■ Noyes, of America, has been elected ' president of the republic of • the '• North.” • -• 'i That was as near as the Spanish editor could get to the bulletin: ' “Rutherford B. Hayes has been ' hom in'* ted for president by the Republl- ‘ ■ can national convention,” and it todk Adee and Hay a week to figure it out. ' —Saturday Evening Post. \ Kept the Pledge. “Yes, it is a common thing for art ists to fool themselves about their work,” said Robert Hyde. “They are > like the man who took the pledge, t?- ••• . • “A minister saw this man’s daugh- >/' ter hastening homeward with a pail of „ fresh, foaming beer. He halted her’ • , • and said: . i. >• v*.