CHAPTER XXXV.—Continued.
‘That is not necessary,” assured
Starva. “Let all these candles be
snuffed except those in the candelab
rum that stands at the head of the
staircase. Bring your man, Jacques,
to that point and no farther. We
shall see him; bift he will not be able
to see us.”
Fortune was favoring us indeed.
Locke and 1 silently bestirred our
eaives. Now at last had come the
moment for action. But still another
grumbled; and still fortune favored
us.
“That is all very well,” objected Ig
natieff. “And perhaps a traitor may
strike a blow in the dark. I for one
refuse to gratify the curiosity of Kuljn
ia this matter.”
“But Starva was determined to
bare his way.
“To prevent that,” he answered,
“each of us will lay his weapons on
the table at the end of the hall.”
There were cries of fierce dissent.
Starva silenced them with an angry
gesture.
“One moment, friends.” he purred.
' Tou do not quite understand. When
we first came into this room I sug
gested that lots should be drawn, and
he who was favored with the lucky
number should fire, concealed in the
gloom, that none might be sure who
had been chosen to snuff out Ferdi
nand’s little soul. But since our
friend Kuhn’s loyalty has been ques
tioned, it is be who shall have that
honor, and with Gornji's dagger he
shall do the work. And lest an acci
dent should happen, or lest his cour
age should fail him, Bratiuau and I
will keep our revolvers. I think there
is none to question our loyalty?”
Kuhn had grown frightfully pale;
he trembled. But he spoke no word.
“By this arrangement,” continued
Starva, “the loyalty of Kuhn of Mace
donia will be established. And if," he
was glaring at Gingaja and Count
Piteschti,” there are any mad enough
to dream of disloyalty at this late
hour, and harbor treachery, they will
he powerless.
the antique rug. Hratinau’s bullet
had struck me.
' , CHAPTER XXXVI.
“Honor, My Sword."
I awoke to consciousness to find
myself in the music room. I opened
my eyes languidly. Helen was bend
ing over me.
"What is It?" I murmured. “Yes,
I remember—the fight on the sair
case.”
“I struggled to my feet, but sank
back dizzily, my hands to my aching
forehead.
“Thank God you are alive, and it is
all over!" cried Helen, brokenly.
“And Ferdinand is safe?”
“Quite safe and unhurt. Already
he has left the chateau. Capt. Forbes
will tell you everything presently.
“I have been unconscious so long?
Am I wounded? I feel no pain, only
this headache and dizziness."
“A bullet grazed your temple—an
eighth of an inch more—” She shud
dered. “It wounded you only slight
ly, but you have been unconscious
nearly an hour.”
“My usual luck," I cried, bitterly.
“It was to have been my chance; I
hoped to retrieve myself; and I am
winged the first shot. Fate is deter-’
mined, it seems, that I shall stick to
my role of coward.”
“Don't, don’t ever say that hor
Starva's ruse was bailed with
shouts of approval. Gornji, Ignatieff,
and Gortscbakoff strode to the table
at the end of the hall and flung down
their weapons defiantly. Gingaja re
luctantly followed their example.
Piteschtl folded his arms defiantly,
standing motionless.
“This is child's play,” he muttered,
with pale lips.
"Nevertheless." whispered Bratinau
in his ear, “you will obey, and quick
ly. By all the saints, Starva, I think
your plan has proved a wise one.
Come, sir, we are waiting. Or are
you so Ignorant of the rules of eti
quette that you insist in taking prece
dence over a king?”
With a gesture of despair Count
Piteschtl walked slowly to the table
and left his revolver there.
“Now, friend Kuhn, we are waiting
only for you!” cried Starva sharply.
“I have no arms,” answered the
poor wretch, with a sob.
“You shall be armed presently,”
cried Gornji.
“Now, Jaques, you may go. Out
with the candles, Gornji and Ig
natieff. The rest of you remain
quietly as you value your lives. You
will find your man defenseless,
Jacques. But if he proves trouble
some, you have only to call and I
will come. You have taken care of
Alphonse?”
“I '‘have put him to sleep,” he
chuckled.
As Jaques lifted the tapestry Locke
ohoked him into silence. Together we
carried him struggling up the hidden
staircase and burst into the anteroom
of the tower. Not until we had flung
him breathless into the room of the
safe, and had locked the door, did
we answer Forbe's frenzied questions.
Locke gripped his arm for silence.
“Quick, there is not a moment to
lose. Have you arms?”
“No,” growled Forbes, ready for ac
tion.
“In the first room to the right of the
corridor,” panted Madame de Var
nier. “In the drawer of the cabinet
near the door.”
rible word again!” cried Helen, pas
sionately. “It was your shot that
killed Starva. It is you who have
saver Ferdinand; it is you who have
saved for me the honor of my poor
brother so far as the world can know.
How can I ever be grateful enough?”
“Helena” I cried, passionately,
“you remember at Lucerne, on the
terrace, when I told you of Willough
by’s death, how he had died calling
me coward, it was you that pointed
out to me a way of escape—you told
me how I could Yegain the self-re
spect I thought I had lost forever.
It was to be a life for a life, you
said. When I had saved a life for
the life that was lost through my
cowardice, I was to stand once more
upright among men. Tell me, you de
spise me no longer?”
"Despise you!” she murmured. “If
you knew how I honored you!”
“Ah, it is worth while to hear you
say that. But you must say more, infi
nitely more than that now, dear, to
satisfy me. Helena, I thought only a
week ago that if I could win your re
spect »I should be happy. tBut now
I want your love.”
“Don't!” she cried in pain .“How
can you speak of love at such an
hour!”
"Then come. And you two stay
here. There is man's work below.”
We stole silently down the stairs,
Ix>cke and myself in the lead, to the
cabinet, where both Locke and Forbes
chose their revolvers.
‘Do you, Capt. Forbes, make your
way along the gallery until you come
to the spiral staircase at the end of
the hall," I commanded, briefly.
"When I appear at the main stairway
with Locke, reach the hall with no
delay There is a table by the little
stairway; there are arms on it; let
no one approach that table until
Locke or myself have reached your
side. Now then, Locke, are we ready?”
We had filed silently into the cor
ridor. Forbes sped with caution to
his vantage ground. Locke was al
ready approaching the main staircase
when I seized him by the arm.
”1 am going to fool Starva I am
going to call for help. He will think
it Jacques. As he comes, I shall
take care of him. Bratinau is your
man. Wait till he shows himself, and
mind you, aim straight.”
J raised my voice in a cry of dis
tress.
"A moi, Starva!”
My tricjc succeeded admirably.
Starva bounded up the stairca^l. . As
he showed himself in the light of the
candelabrum I fired. He fell head
long without a groan. Locke stood
at the head of the staircase waiting.
I peered down in the darkness below.
Forbes’ revolver rang out again and
again. The uproar was terrible.
"Kuhn. Gingaja! Piteschti! To
the staircase:” 1 cried in French.
That was the last I knew of our
melee.
I sank gently to my knees behind
“Forgive me. What a selfish brute
I am. But by the by—when time has
softened your bitter pain—in happier
days may I come to you?”
“Happier days!” She clasped her
hands in quick despair, looking be
yond me as if into a future that must
be always dark for her.
“Yes,” I said, passionately, “there
shall yet be happier days for you and
for me. Do you remember on the ter
race the little l>eacon light In the far
off mountains? That was my star.
It comforted me then; it bids me
hope now; it tells me, Helena, you
love me.”
“Never!” She withdrew the hand
I had held almost fiercely.
Her vehemence brought me rudely
to my senses. I had been mad to
hope. 1 turned slowly from her,
groping my way toward the door;
for my head was still throbbing furi
ously.
She stopped me with a cry of dis
tress. She clung to me in her eager
ness.
“You don't understand,” she plead
ed. “You have saved my brother’s
honor as far as the world <jan know.
But this shame that cursheg me this
disgrace, can I forget it?”
“I would help you bear it.”
“Mr. Haddon, we Bretts have been
a proud race. Our happiness we share
with others. But disgrace we bear
alone.”
"Don’t say that; you are bitter now,
but—”
“If you had known me better,” said
Helena, quietly, “you would under
stand that I do not give to-morrow
what I must deny to-day.” . *
When I told her of Willoughby's
tragic death, I had thought it pathet
ic that a woman should be so strong.
It was her calm courage that had
first awakened my love for her. I
must not complain now if she was
not to be moved by my entreaties.
But this question I did psk:
“If I could have proved that‘your
brother had not, after all, shown him
self false to the motto ot your house,
‘Honor, my Sword,’ would you still
have refused to listen to me?”
“Ah, if, Mr. Haddon!”
For almost the first time since I had
known her she smiled; and that faint
smile opened the gates of paradise
to me. She would not be moved to
declare her love for me, but she did
love me; I was sure of it.
And then suddenly I thought of the
words of the Countess Sarahoff when
I made my escape by the ladder of
stones: “Go, and I swfear by the cause
I hold sacred, that, if you can save
Ferdinand, the honor of Sir Mortimer
shall be saved.” That promise might
mean little. It might mean that she
would show her gratitude by refusing
to make public Sir Mortimer’s dis
grace. Or had her words a deeper
signiflpance?”
‘But,” I cried eagerly, “nothing is
quite impossible. I repeat now what
I said to you when in your grief
you asked me to meet the banker, I
cannot believe in .your brother’s guilt.
I cannot conceive how a man whose
integrity has been undoubtetd during
a brilliant career should suddenly
stoop to the shame of taking bribes.”
A flash of hope shone in Helena’s
He Fell Headlong Without a Groan.
pale face, only to be followed by
the deepest dejection. “But there are
the proofs,” she said, mournfully. “I
cannot, would that I could, deny my
brother’s writing.”
“I must see Madame de Varnier. A
few hours ago she held us at _ her
mercy. But now we have the upper
hand; there are many things she
must explain. Whore is she?”
“She left the chateau with Ferdi
nand half an hour ago.”
“Left the chateau!” I cried, aghast.
“Why was she not held?”
“Prince Ferdinand insisted that she
must go at once to Sofia. He has
sent her on some secret mission. I
think she must be one of his spies.”
“And she left no message for me?”
I demanded, gloomily.
“No,” replied Helena, looking at me
in wonder. “Why do you ask?”
I did not tell her of Madame de
Varnier’8 promise. I knew now that
it had been given me quite recklessly
to spur me to action. I was mad to
expect mercy and gratitude from such
a woman. She was too determined
on her revenge. I remembered bit
terly how she had told me in the tow-'
He Swallows 'an Alarm Clock, with
Most Unusual Results.
While crossing among the South sea
islands 30 odd years ago in our pri
vate yacht, the Haute Flyer, we were
much annoyed by a large Irish setter
shark that persisted In following the
ship, says a writef in the Minneapolis
Journal. During the night the shark
would often climb up on deck and tip
over the garbage can. At one time
Henry Williams, a sailor before the
mast, was bitten on the leg by the
brute. He aimed a kick at the brute,
who growled, showed his teeth, and
sunk his fangs into Wllilams’ limb be
fore leaping over the rail into the
sea.
One day the cook, annoyed at his
er that she sacrificed friends and eae* ,
mien if they proved obstacles to her !
plans. j
“I had hoped,” I answered, vaguely. ;
“now that Ferdinand was saved, that 1
she might in some way be able to
show us that your brother’s dishonor
is not so great as it appears.”
“But could she explain away his.j
writing?” asked Helena mournfully. 1
"No; even if she feels remorse for her
cruelty in torturing me, it is too
late. I have eaten of the tree of knowl
edge, Mr. Haddon, and it Is very bit
ter. Heaven has reversed my fate and
yours. It is I who now have lost my
self-respect, while you have gained—”
“No,” I cried, bitterly, “I have fail
ed utterly in my task. I dared hope
for too much. I have dared too
greatly in dreaming that I should find
happiness in this Castle of Lies.”
“But," she whispered, “I, too, have
dared, Ernest, and I shall not for
get.”
"Helena!” I crushed her hands in
mine. “Even now I refuse to despair.
1 will find this woman though I search
the earth for her. She shall tell me
everything, and perhaps even now—”
“Not even your love can bring about
the Impossible."
“But if it could— If by a miracle
your brother’s honor were shown to
be stainless?”
“Ah, if you could work miracles—
yes,” she faltered.
The door was flung open brusque
ly. Locke stood at the threshold, his
keen glance bent cynically on me. j
“So you are quite yourself again?”
He concealed his embarrassment by
a gruff demeanor. “So much the bet
ter; for you must be off before the
dawn, my friend.”
"And where?" I demanded aston
ished and not a little piqued at his
cool ;issurance.
“En route for America, if you are
wise.”
“You are settling my destiny in a
rather highhanded manner,” I cried,
angrily. “And will you tell me why
you dispose of me so summarily?’’
“Why,” replied he, with a quiet
laugh, “I have promoted you—”
He became suddenly serious, glanc
ing uneasily at Helena.
“Miss Bret, Capt. Forbes and my
self will accompany you to your ho
tel presently.- Will you wait here
while I say a few words to Mr. Had
don?”
“But it is not possible that you still
mistrust him after to-night?” she de
manded with indignation.
“No, no," he assured her. “I would
spare you from embarrassment; that
is all."
“Come, then,” I said, shortly.
When we had reached the gallery
I saw to my astonishment that the
hall below was empty. I listened and
there was complete silence.
“What have Forbes and yourself
done with your prisoners?” I demand
ed. In my perplexity I forgot to ask
what Locke had meant in saying flip
pantly that he had promoted me.
“They are all gone but two,” Locke
answered cooly. He lighted a cigar
ette, and leaning on the gallery rail
stared down into the hall. “Starva
and Bratinau’s bodies are in the din
ing-rooms, but their souls have been
swiftly ferried across the Styx by old
Charon. Nothing reminds us of our
fight except the dark stain on the
staircase carpet yonder. It was a
good scrap while it lasted. Your shot,
winged Starva, as you probably know.
I settled Bratinau. Forbes peppered
away in the dark, and had fair luck.
The man called Go on or Geeup, or
something like that, got a shattered
ankle, and the Servian a rather nasty
wound in the thigh. As for the rest
of the gentry, three; of them rallied
to your slogan and joined me at the
staircase; the other two were easily
settled with. Yes, it was a good
fight, but much too short—especially
for you, old chap.” He shook his
head despondently.
“But your prisoners?” I demanded
again, irritated by his superfluous
comments.
“It was Prince Ferdinand who in
sisted on their release.”
“Their release!" I interrupted, fu
riously. “What incredible folly!”
“You remember that Starva and
Bratinau were the only Bulgars
among the conspirators, and they are
dead. The two ringleaders are wound
ed badly enough to go to a hospital.
Forbes himself has accompanied them
there to see that they are not dis
charged until one of us is told. Prac
tically* they are prisoners. There re
mains Kuhn, Piteschtl and Gingaja,
the three men who showed that they
had some instincts of humanity when
it came to the crisis. The other two
were arrant cowards; Ferdinand pre
fers to consider the three his loyal
friends and two others powerless.
He has set them at liberty.”
“By Jove, his magnanimity or his
folly will cost him dear.”
“I am not so certain of that,” re
sumed Locke, thoughtfully. “It is
possible that he has made five friends
of five enemies. You must remember
that even if he wished to punish the
conspirators he is powerless to do
this without advertising to the world
the intended uprising of the Balkan
States.”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Story of South Sea Shark
alarm clock—which persisted in go
ing off furiously at all hours of the
night—threw the timepiece overboard.
The shark, always on hand for dainty
tidbits from the galley, took the time
of day at one gulp. For two days aft
er that we heard the clock going in
a muffled way from the interior of
the surprised shark, who was often
seen with one fin on his head and the
other'on the^pit of his stomach, evi
dently tryinj to diagnose his clock
case.
We were standing on the stern of
the ship one evening watching the
shark, who was evidently feeling pret
ty sick. Suddenly the clock went off
on him and the sailors, counting the
strokes, noticed that it struck 23.
When the shark heard this, he turned
up and died before our eyes.
^MBS.:’. •-•
HOUSE CLEANING IN FALL.
Cellar la On# Important Point to Bo
Considered.
The house does not get so dirty
during the summer that a general up
heaval is necessary for fall house
i cleaning, though there is one place
where the greatest attention must be
given, and t^at is in the cellar. Damp
dayB, together with the decaying vege
tables and fruits stored in the cellar
and the unavoidable dirt which is cer
tain to accumulate, makes it really
necessary to hang up a red light in
that apartment unless the cellar is
properly cleaned during the fall.
Often the cleanest house will have
a cellar in the most disreputable con
dition with spoiled fruits, vegetables
and the like, making it a hotbed of I
diseases. Have the cellar walls swept
and liberally whitewashed, clean the
floor and sprinkle with lime. Every
box, cupboard and hoarding place
should be thoroughly cleaned with hot
water and soap. If there is any per- '
ceptible dampness, the cellar should !
be aired, if possible, and often this
can be overcome by burning a small
gas or oil stove in the cellar for one
day. No difference how nicely one
may prepare canned fruits and pre
serves, if the cellar is in a damp con
dition everything will mold and in
many cases sour and spoil. One day’s
work, even though it be arduous la
bor, will save the summer’s work
represented in the canned fruits, jel
lieft, etc.
CARE OF WAXED FLOOR8.
Fura Turpentine the Beet Thing With
Which to Clean Them.
Those who have waxed floors In
their dwellings know, according to In
doors and Out, how invaluable turpen
tine is in cleaning them. With sand
paper or steel wool, dipped in turpen
tine, the blackest coating, which is apt
to accumulate in winter on waxed
floors not frequently polished, can be
easily and quickly removed; and a
washing with turpentine does much
to brighten up any waxed floor, pre
paratory to the application of a light
fresh coat of wax and polishing with
the weighted brush. As with all other
painters’ materials, however, turpen
tine is shamefully adulterated, and
care must be taken to get only the
best and purest from some thorough
ly reliable dealer. The usual adulter
ant is cheap benzine, and as benzine
turns good floor wax a dirty white,
turpentine so adulterated has an in
jurious effect on the floor. The floor
“waxes” made with tallow show less
effect from adulterated turpentine, but
the wise householder will use only
those floor waxes made with bee’s
wax and turpentine, with a littlp par
affine, but no tallow.
Sage and Green Tea for the Hair.
Sage and green tea make a hair
tonic that has in many instances abso
lutely arrested the falling hair that is
so noticeable in the autumn, especial
ly if women have indulged in much
sea bathing without being careful
about rinsing out the salt water. This
tonic is not injurious, as are so many
that contain alcohol and bay rum. It
has, however, one decided objection to
housekeepers who have a tender re
gard for the appearance of Their beds
—It will stain the linen unless the
hair has been perfectly dried before
retiring.
To make this tonic take one ounce
each of green tea and dried garden
sage and pour over it one and a half
pints of boiling water. Steep in a
covered teapot until reduced one-third.
Remove from the fire and let the mix
ture stand for 24 hours before strain
ing and bottling.
In applying this, as in fact all tonics,
see that it is rubbed into the scalp in
stead of being carelessly put on the
hair. Massage thoroughly for at least
ten minutes.
Onion Soup.
Six onions, slice them, put in frying
pan with a, little butter, fry to a gold
en brown, ttien add a teaspoon of
flour; let this get a nice brown, then
pour one pint of beef or chicken broth
over it. Boil four minutes, put into
pudding pan. Put two slices bread
on top, sprinkle with parmesan cheese,
then a little melted butter over the
cheese. Put in oven, let it- brown,
serve with a little parmesan cheese
in separate dish. Fine. It must be
served in dish it is baked in. Par
mesan cheese comes in bottles all
grated.
-
To Remove Medicine Stains.
Stains made by medicine and lini
ment are often obstinate to remove
in the hands of an amateur. Iodine
marks may be removed by washing
the spots with strong ammonia until
it fades, after which wash with tepid
water and strong soap.
Ammonia is equally good for remov
ing cod liver oil stains. Fuller's earth
made into a paste and thickly applied
to the spots will also remove them.
Lyonnaise Potatoes.
One tablespoonful of butter, one
onion chopped fine, 12 cold potatoes
cut into dice; parsley, salt and pepper.
To the butter and onions add the po
tatoes and stir quickly over the open
flame for five minutes, taking care
that they do not stick to the pan.
Season with salt and pepper, add
chopped parsley. Serve while hot
__
Fairy Pudding.
One pint boiling water, stir into this
three tablespoons of cornstarch, mixed
3mooth with a little cold water, the
juice of a lemon, piece of butter the
size of a walnut and one beaten egg.
It will thicken^ up nicely in three or
four minutes. Then turn into mold.
To be eaten with sugar and cream
or rich milk.
Mexican _Alole.
Two tablespoonfuls of blanched al
monds, three tablespoonfuls of rice.
Grind the almonds fine first, then the
rice, then mix; add a cup of sweet
milk and cook in a double boiler until
the mixture thickens. Add salt or
sugar to taste and serve.
Sausage Roll. '
Fry sausage, and take off the skin;
or, if it is preferred, use sausage meat.
Make rich biscuit dough; roll as thin
as possible and spread on sausage.
Bake brown. Use one link to a roll.
It 1b good hot or cold
l.*.:
'' V
'
VALmnAi^o. rm<5T cqai^wg JTAT™»
cVE427GY ffl. jRACZT'IC. m mE ROun:
This will prove one of the most
difficult and the most expensive
features of the proposed practice
cruise of the Atlantic squadron from
its base on the Atlantic coast around
the southern point of South America
and up to San Francisco.
Naval experts at work on the de
tails of the coming cruise figure that
it will cost $3,000,000 to provide the
fuel which will be needed to steam
the 16 great battleships, the five or
s'x auxiliary cruisers and the torpedo
flotilla over the 13,000-mlle course.
According to present plans the fleet
will set sail in December, and be
tween now and that ume the greatest
question of all the many relating to
the success of the cruise—that of fuel
—must be settled and arranged for.
Five or six coaling stations at least
must be touched between Hampton
Roads and Puget sound during the
two months and a half or more that
will be required to make the mo
mentous excursion. Certainly, there
will be several colliers waiting upon
the fuel needs of the battleships and
those abominations of all naval offi
cers, torpedoboats, but their supplies
will by no means meet the require
ments of the fighting machines.^Much
will depend upon the supplies ordered
weeks ago by the navy department
through the consular agents at the
coaling stations where the fleet is ex
pected to collect during the long and
tedious itinerary.
That the extraordinary demands
upon the usual fuel stores to be
found at authorized stations to be
made by the great fleet will result in
a proportionate increase of price is
admitted by the navy department, but
unfortunately there is no way of ob
taining cheaper coal. Hence it is
known in advance that the cost per
ton will be from eight dollars to $13
on the Atlantic coast station, while
from $13 to $17 may be the price be
tween Sandy Point, in the Strait of
Magellan, to Puget sound. As most
of the warships will consume from
60 to 100 tons per day. it is readily
seen how very expensive their trip
from ocean to ocean will be.
All of the vessels will assemble at
Rio Janerio, whether or not coal is
needed, for a general survey by Ad
miral Evans. After this there will
be no stop along the Atlantic coast
of South America until Montevideo,
Uruguay, at the mouth of the Rio de
la Plata is reached. Here there will
be another inspection and a general
recoaling preparatory to the long voy
age to Sandy Point, in the Strait of
Magellan.
Isolated as Sandy Point is, it is yet
a thriving port. Commerce flourishes
and many supplies besides fuel will
be taken aboard Uncle Sam’s war
ships. Sandy Point offers a compara
tively safe anchorage, despite the in
different reputation granted the strait
by navigators. When, the wind sets
in strong, however, it will be nec
cessary for the ships to up anchor
and away, whether or not there Is
coal on board. The main danger, and
one that is omnipresent, is the “willy
waws,” which for centuries have made
this vicinity dreaded by navigators.
These are a series of eccentric winds
which cause ships of the largest di
mensions to sail sidewise, although
the' torpedoboats may not be particu
larly hampered in their movements.
Valparaiso, Chile, or Callao, Peru,
will be the next stopping places for
coal supplies, and here the price of
fuel will soar aloft if traditions are
observed. Most of the fuel on hand
at all the stations is usually reserved
for the merchantmen, the latter pay
ing a slight advance over the charges
obtaining at American or European
ports, but when a man-of-war make®
its appearance the mercenary dealers
immediately increase the cost, be
lieving that it is a matter of commer
cial acumen to “stick” the nation to
which the warship may belong.
From these ports the armada will
proceed on its way to San Francisco,
some of the vessels, maybe, stopping
at Magdalena Bay, Lower California,
for more coal. Fuel at the former
port will not be so costly, but the
expense, nevertheless, will be suffi
ciently important to make a rare
showing in the general bill coming to
Uncle Sam.
It is not likely that the fleet or any
component vessel will be obliged to
I put into any port for repairs during
j the long journey. “Vulcan” or repair
ships will be on hand to supply parts
of machinery that may become dam
aged. Most of the latter will carry
large quantities of duplicate parts, so
that any of the usual and ordinary
damages incurred at sea may be readi
ly amended.
Most of the men-of-war can steam
between 5,000 and 8,000 miles with
out recoaling, so that it will be an
easy matter for them to junket along
between the established stations. But
the torpedoboats will require the con
stant attention of the colliers. It is
said that their average fuel endur
ance is between 1,000 and 1,500 miles.
Besides, they will need the constant
surveillance of the larger ships, being
frail craft and liable to many dam
ages. The flotilla will keep close to
the coast while skirting down the At
lantic and up the Pacific, and may be
the cause of numerous delays on the
part of the whole fleet. Therefore it
is small wonder that the entire naval
force reviles this type of vessel. It is
the general conviction among the old
er officers in the navy that the tor
pedoboat has demonstrated that it is
utterly worthless in active warfare,
and the American sea-fighter is too
much of a utilitarian to tolerate the
impracticable.
Tne first station to be drawn upon
for coal by the armada will be St
Thomas, in the Danish West Indies.
It will be remembered that the Unit
ed States government some time ago
offered $7,000,000 for the possession
of this port and the Danish posses
sions in the Antilles—an offer which
was first accepted, to be refused later
on mature consideration.
Very likely the delicate little tor
pedo flotilla will find it necessary to
put into San Juan, Porto Rico, for
fuel, this being the only port con
trolled by America in the Antilles,
and so hamper the progress of the
armada.
The next coaling station on the
route is Bahia. At this picturesque
and historic town several of the
smaller vessels will be obliged to
stop In order to amend deficiencies
in their coal bunkers, although war
ships of the greater magnitude may
be able to proceed to Rio Janeiro utfth
out taking aboard fresh supplies of
fuel. The entire fleet will probably
average eight knots an hour, which
will enable the big ships to keep their
fuel consumption at a minimum.
Fleet to Assemble at Rio.
THE WOMEN AND BASEBALL.
_ t
One of the Sex Explains Why She
Doesn’t Know the Game Very Well.
“I don't see that It’s much wonder If
women don’t know a great deal about
that game of base ball,” remarked a
Cleveland woman in the role of an
abused wife the other day. “If all men ’
were like my husband it would be a
fine chance any wife would have to
learn anything besides household
drudgery. I think it’s absolutely ab
surd the way some men seem to lose
all control of their senses and all idea
of ordinary courtesy when they get
within sight of a crowd of men knock
ing a ball about a big pasture.
“I’ve always been so bored to death
by base ball games the few times my
husband has persuaded me to go, be
cause I never could tell who was win
ning, that I told my husband I wouldn’t
go to any more of the old games with
him. Then the other day he told me
that if I’d go he would just make it
his business for that one day to ex
plain, the game to'me.
“Well, he started in to explain
things to me, and his mood lasted just
until some one hit the ball, and then
he began to shout and jump up and
dqwn as if some one had hooked an
electric wire to his seat. I thought
something Very unusual must have
happened and I tried to get him to tell
me what he was acting so foolish
about, but he just snapped out,v‘This
is too good a game. I’ll tell you all
about it when we get home.’ And that
was all I could get out of him during
the rest of the tiresome old game.
I’ll never go to one with him again.”—
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Otter Almost Stole His Salmon.
An unusual incident of particular in
terest to fly fishermen is narrated in
a letter to the London Daily Mail
- from W. Arthur Williams of Bodmin.
“A gentleman residing at Dumnere,
near Bodmin, was fishing in the River
Camel on Wednesday night,” Mr. Wil
liams writes. ‘‘He hooked a fine sal
mon on a fly, but immediately a large
otter darted from under the bank and
seized the fish. The fisherman thus
had a fish and an otter on his line at
the same time, and having stout tackle
he was able to engage in a few min
utes of exciting fcport. The otter,
however, caught sight of the fisher
man and dashed up stream. When
the fish had been landed by the angler
the marks of the otter’s teeth were
plainly discernible on the shoulders
of the fish.
Self-Denial.
Self-denial is the first lesson to be
learned, and poverty of spirit is en
titled to the first beatitude. The foun
dation of all other graces is laid in
humanity. Those who would build
high must «oy - • »t'iub*w Henry.
Radium as a Curative.
The growing Importance of radium
as a therapeutic agent has led the
management of the Imperial Uranium
works, in St. Joachimstahl, Behemia,
to construct a special laboratory for
the industrial production of radium
compounds. The uranium ores of
Bohemia contain higher percentages
of this mysterious element than any
other known deposits thus far in
vestigated. The ores and the residues
from the uranium extraction have
hitherto been treated chiefly at Paris,
where the method of isolating the
minute traces of radium was perfect
ed by Mme. Curie and her lately de
ceased husband'. There will be mani
fest advantages in carrying out the ex
traction at the place of ofigin, in
view of the enormous amount of rock
required for the production of a bit
of radium.
Overfeeding.
If I should name the greatest dan
ger of childhood 1 would unhesitating
ly say, Overfeeding. More babies are
drowned in milk than Bailors in salt
water.—Dr. Oswald.
