The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, April 24, 1913, Image 4

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    —
Sable
HORACE Lhrcha
HAZELTINE COPY/?/G/i7; J9JZ. A C SfCCZURQ & CO.
17
SYNOPSIS.
Robert Cameron, capitalist, consult*
Philip Clyde, newspaper publisher, re
garding anonymous threatening letters he
has received. The first promises a sample
of the writer’s power on a certain day.
On that day the head is mysteriously cut
from a portrait of Cameron while the lat
ter is in the room. Clyde has a theory
that the portrait was mutilated while the
froom was unoccupied and the head later
Removed by means of a string, unnoticed
by Cameron. Evelyn Grayson, Cameron s
ntecs, with whom Clyde Is in love, find*
the head of Cameron’s portrait nailed to
a tree, where it had been used as a
target. Clyde pledges Evelyn to secrecy.
Clyde learns that a Chinese boy employed
by Philatus Murphy, an artist llvftig
nearby, had borrowed a rifle from Cam
eron’s lodgekeeper. Clyde makes an ex
cuse to call on Murphy and Is repulsed.
He pretends to be Investigating alleged
infraction* of the game laws and speaks
of finding the bowl of an opium pipe un
der the tree where Cameron’s portrait
was found. The Chinese boy is found
dead next morning. While visiting Cam
eron in his dressing room a Nell Gwynne
mirror Is mysteriously shattered. Cameron
becomes seriously ill as a result of the
•hock. The third letter appears mysteri
ously on Cameron’s sick bed. It makes
direct threats against the life of Cameron.
Clyde tells Cameron the envelope was
empty. He tells Evelyn everything and
plans to take Cameron on a yacht trip.
The yacht picks up a fisherman found
drifting helplessly in a boat. He gives
the name of Johnson. Cameron disap
pears from yacht while Clyde's back Is
Turned. A fruitless search is made for a
motor boat seen by the captain Just be
fore Cameron disappeared. Johnson is al
lowed to go after being closely questioned.
Evelyn takes the letters to an expert in
Chinese literature, who pronounces them
of Chinese origin. Clyde seeks assistance
from a Chinese fellow college student,
who recommends him to Yup Sing, most
prominent Chinaman In New York. The
fatter promises to seek Information of
Cameron among his countrymen. Among
Cameron’s letters Is found one from one
Addison, who speaks of seeing Cameron
In Pekin. Cameron had frequently de
clared to Clyde that he had never been in
China. Clyde calls on Dr. Addison. He
learns that Addison and Cameron were at
one time intimate friends, but had a fall
ing out over Cameron’s denial of having
been seen in Pekin by Addison. Clyde
goes to meet Yup Sing, sees Johnson, at
tempts to follow him, falls into a base
ment. sprains his ankle and becomes un
conscious. Clyde Is found bv Miss Clement,
a missionary among the Chinese. He is
sick several days as a result of inhaling
charcoal fumes. Evelyn tells Clyde of a
peculiarly acting anesthetic which renders
a person temporarily unconscious. Mur
phy is discovered to have mysterious re
lations with the Chinese. Miss Clement
promises to get information about Cam
eron. Slump in Crystal Consolidated, of
which Cameron Is the head. Is caused bv
n rumor of Cameron’s Illness. Clyde finds
Cameron on Fifth avenue in a dazed and
emaciated condition and takes him home
T*ameron awakes from a long sleep and
speaks in a strange tongue. He gives or
ders to an Imaginary crew In Chinese
Jargon. Then in terror cries: “I didn’t
kill them.” Evelyn declares the man Is
not her uncle. Evelyn and Clyde call on
Miss dement for promised Information
and find that the Chinaman who was to
give it has Just been murdered. Miss
Clement gives Clyde a note asking him to
read it after he leaves the mission and
then destroy It. It tells of the abduction
of a white man bv Chinese who shipped
him back to China. The man Is accused
of the crime of the “Sable Lorcha” in
which 100 Chinamen were killed. The ap
pearance In New York of the man they
supposed they had shipped to China
throws consternation into the Chinese.
The brougham in which Clyde and Eve
lyn are riding is held up by an armed
man. Clyde Is seized by Murohy and a
fight ensues. Evelyn and Clyde are res
cued bv the police and return home. Thev
find Yup Sing and the Chinese consul
awaiting them. Yup tell* Clyde the storv
of the crime of the “Sable Dorcha.” In
which 97 Chinamen were deliberat'd'’ sent
to their death by one Donald M’Nish.
whom they declare is Cameron. They de
clare that M’Nish can be Identified bv a
tattoo mark on his arm. Clyde declares
that Cameron has no such mark. The
nurse is called In and describes a tattoo
mark on his patient’s arm. Clyde goes
to Investigate and finds the patient at
tempting to hide a letter. It is addressed
to Donald M’Nish.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Another Problem Crop* Up.
There are, I dare say, those who will
not hesitate to charge me with an un
pardonable lack of perception. “Even
from your own telling," they will prob
ably declare, “we realized from the
first that the creature you discovered
at two in the morning, supporting him
self by means of a Fifth avenue area
railing, was not Robert Cameron, but
his physical counterpart, and a not
very deceptive counterpart at that."
I shall not dispute the justice of the
. criticism. As I look back at it all now,
I sometimes wonder, myself, how I
could have been so blind, so credulous.
And yet there is something to be said
on the other side. too. An able advo
cate, I believe, might make out v fair
ly strong case for me if I were dis
posed to defend myself; which, as it
happens, I am not, since the verdict
can make no possible difference either
t» you or to me, and would only delay
the culmination of our narrative
Nevertheless I must tell that for
some minutes after reading the letter
which had so opportunely fallen into
my hands I stood at the foot of the
bed, and in the glare of the blazing
electrics, studied with keenest scru
tiny the faoe which had so deceived
me.
In general contour and individual
feature the likeness to Cameron was
monstrous in its fidelity. The same
rugged power, inherited from Scottish
forbears, was traceable in every linea
ment. But there the similarity ended.
The faoe 1 gazed upon lacked illumina
tion. Character, so strongly indicated
in the other, was from this totally ab
sent. In its place was an admixture
of craft and brutality, so palpable, now
—so clearly, unmistakably evident—
that I marvelled at my former delu
' sion.
It was the newspaper puzzle picture
over again. Having at length discov
ered the hidden rabbit I could see
nothing else whatever. It dominated
the drawing. It fairly sprang at me
from out the printed page.
There was still another feature oi
the revelation, however, which held a
contrasting pathos. The letter which
carried conviction beyond all possible
dispute was from Donald McNish’s
aged mother. And while it tempered
in a measure the harshness of mj
Judgment against the son, it was ol
tragic import, in that it was one po
tent piece of evidence in his undoing
'severing the last link in the chair
iwhich connected his identity with thal
of the shamefully maligned Cameron
Eveiyn wept over this letter, and']
s-va not bit* but that my own sighi
grew hazy, too, as I read the fond,
quaintly couched phrases of endear
ment, penned half a year back In Dun
dee, by this God-fearing old Scotch
woman, to that Infamous, blood-stained
reprobate, who, to her, was still her
"ain bonnie bairn."
It all came out, eventually, that Mc
Nish had traveled the world over in
the sixteen years intervening since the
coolie massacre, employing a score or
more of aliases and so studiously
avoiding the name by which he had
then been known, as to have almost
forgotten it, probably, himself, until,
yielding to the call of home, he had at
some early period of the last twelve
month returned for a brief visit to his
native town and his septuagenarian
mother.
It 'Was then, most likely, that he
gave to her the address of the New
York hotel. Fate Influenced the moth
er to write, and Fate sent the son
there six months later to get the let
ter, and so carry upon his person the
confirmatory evidence of his identity,
just at the time when it would prove
fatal.
“How did it happen,” I have been
asked, “that you didn't examine imme
diately the clothes that the supposed
Cameron wore, when you found him?”
In view of subsequent events it is
very easy to see what an important
bearing such an examination would
have had. But at the time, there was
no one who thought of it Our chief
purpose then was to get the injured
man to bed, and to secure a physician
and nurse to minister to his recovery.
If he had been found dead, then, of
course, we should have gleaned what
Information we could from his pockets.
But we daily expected him to be able
to tell his own story, and in the anx
iety and confusion of the moment the
possible pregnancy of the disclosures
that lurked in his apparel was entire
ly lost sight of.
When we did make the examination,
on the morning following the episode
of the letter, it was to discover that
the suit and overcoat worn by McNish
were of Scotch manufacture, having
been made in Dundee, according to
sewn-in labels, early in the current
year.
The contents of the pockets were
not significant. The letter he had
been so anxious to secure and destroy
was the only letter, apparently, he had
carried. There was a cheque-book on
a Chicago bank, and there was a wal
let containing a small sum of money
in bills, and a few business cards of
importing houses, which we took to
Indicate that the possessor was still
desultorily engaged in trade, or some
species of smuggling, with the Malay
states and the Straits settlements as
his field, since most of the cards made
reference to goods of such origin.
That morning, which succeeded the
night of exciting events already de
tailed, was crowded with another suc
cession of happenings scarcely less
sensational.
At seven o’clock, O’Hara, In obedi
ence to my instructions came to my
room in the Loyalton, rousing me out
of a heavy sleep; for I had not got to
bed until four, and then had lain
awake with teeming brain until after
five. I received him in bath robe and
moles, sitting on the bedside, and sip
ping cofTee, while he, perched on a
low, brass-bound clothes chest, poured
forth his story.
"Sleep!” he echoed, when I had
made my apologies. "I haven’t had a
wink, myself. I’ve been with the boys
all night doing as pretty a round-up
as you ever see. We’ve got the bunch
right this time, Mr. Clyde, and there’ll
be a clearin’ out down there in China
town such as hasn’t been known since
the Chinks discovered Doyers street.’!
“Yes,” I said, encouragingly.
"It’s another war of the tongs,” he
went on. "They have 'em periodically,
you know, and there’s always a few of
the moon-faced boys snuffed out, which
ain’t much loss nohow. But this time
they interfered, you see, with you and
Miss Grayson, and they beat up that
driver of our buzz-carriage something
fierce; and the Commissioner's issued
orders to put the whole yellow popula
tion on the pan if necessary to get the
ones what is responsible.”
"Were any arrests made?" I in
quired.
O’Hara smiled. ”WTere any arrests
made?” he repeated in a tone that in
dicated supreme pity for my ignorance.
"Why, we took ’em in by the whole
sale. We lowered the net and dragged
it and you ought to see what come up.
There was one fellow, a skinny old
geezer half-breed, neither Chink nor
white man, but a slimy mixture of all
that’s bad in the two. We’ve had him
on the griddle all night. Talk about
the third degree! He got it good, and
he’s made enough admissions already
to send him straight to the chair.”
“And Murphy?” I suggested.
"He’s a tough one, that lad! When
they’d brought him to, they figured
they’d get him to convict himself in
the same old way. But there was
nothin’ doing. He just shut his trap,
and not a word would he answer one
way or the other. But his turn’ll come,
all right. I’ve got it on him, Mr. Clyde.
While I've been shadowin’ him for the
past month I’ve picked up a bunch ot
stuff that will come in good. To be
gin with, his name ain’t Murphy. It’s
Pat Moran, and his mug’s at head
quarters.”
“His mug?”
“Sure! in the Rogue's Gallery. And
his record's there too. He’s done time,
already."
“For what?”
“For stabbin’ a man in the back.”
It requires no great mathematical
ability to put two and two together
The result is always either four 01
twenty-two. So, in logic, the answer if
%
Invariably either right or wrong. Mur
phy had stabbed a man' In the back;
McNlsh carried the scar of a knife
wound under his shoulder blade. There
were the two and two.
"What were the facts?" I asked,
with kindled Interest. "Whom did be
stab? When? Where?”
“The bloke’s name,” O’Hara an
swered, after a moment’s thumbing of
his note book, "was MacNlchol—Doug
lass MacNlchol. It was In Buffalo, In
1900." \
My putting together of names could
hardly be a coincidence.
"Pat Moran served five years in Au
burn,” the detective added.
"You don’t know what became of
McNish—I mean MacNlchol?”
"No.”
"Nor any facts about the cause of
the stabbing?"
“That’s easy got," O’Hara informed
me. “But it ain’t in the record at
headquarters. W’hat is there, though,
is that Moran had lived in Chinatown
in Frisco, and was arrested there and
tried for smuggling opium, but was ac
quitted for lack of evidence.”
For a moment I sipped my coffee in
thoughtful silence.
“The skeleton guy knows Moran, all
right,” O’Hara broke in.
“You mean the half-breed?”
“Yes. He give that away."
“What does he call himself?”
"He’s known in Chinatown as John
Soy. He says he's a cook.”
Once again I wras busy with two and
two. Unless all signs failed this John
Soy and Peter Johnson and the Eura
sian cook of the Sable Lorcha were a
single entity.
“O’Hara," I said, finishing my cof
fee, and putting down the cup and sau
cer, "I have the key witness in this
case. You and I together are going
to take him with us and have him con
front both Murphy and John Soy. I
promise you the result will be Interest
ing."
The detective looked his perplexity.
“Some one who knows them?" he
asked.
“Unless I am very much mistaken,”
I answered, "it is some one who knows
them both better than any other per
son in New York. Unless Heaven is
Just now engaged in constructing enig
mas simply for the bewilderment of us
mortals, the witness I have is the man
whom Murphy stabbed in the back, in
Buffalo, eight years ago.”
But before I could carry out my
plan there were several minor mat
ters which claimed my attention.
Ever since reading the note which
Miss Clement placed in my hands I
had been uneasy concerning her safe
ty. To Judge from O’Hara's report
Chinatown had been in a ferment
most of the night, and I feared lest
the blame for the disturbance be vis
ited upon the brave woman mission
ary and some measures of vengeance
meted out to her.
For hair an hour I tried unsuccess
fully to reach her by telephone. The
Mission did not answer. With my
anxiety intensified by this repeated
failure. I ordered my motor car
around at once, and taking O’Hara
■with me. made the trip to Pell street
In record time, despite obstructive
trucks and other vehicles which were
encountered.
Eager inquiry ot none-too-loquacious
neighbors eventually elicited the in
formation that Miss Clement, alive
and uninjured, had started at day
break, if not indeed before, to hunt
up a brother of the murdered Ling
Fo, in Long Island City.
Half an hour later, having stopped
at Bellevue hospital on the way up
town to inquire as to the condition
of Elol Lacoste, the injured chauffeur,
and leave instructions that every
thing possible should be done for his
comfort. I alighted from the car at
the door of Dr. Massey's office on
West Fifty-sixth street.
I trust I am not that type of man
which, when guilty of error, delights
to shift the responsibility to other
shoulders. I had small excuse to
make for myself in confounding Mc
Nish with Cameron, yet I confess I
had much less for the family physi
cian, who had been so easily deceived.
Dr. Massey greeted me almost Jo
vially, but checked himself as he ob
served the seriousness, the coolness
even, of my manner.
"Our—our patient is not worse?”
he questioned, taken aback.
"No. doctor,” I answered, tempted
to a grim humor, “that would be im
possible, I fancy.”
For a second he regarded me with
frowning incomprehension.
“Our patient,” I repeated with a
sarcastic emphasis that could not be
misunderstood, "long ago, I fancy,
reached the limit of blackguardism.”
The doctor’s eyes widened, his lips
parted and he stood aghast.
“But—but—I don’t quite see.” he
stammered. “You have quarreled with
Mr. Cameron? You have—”
“No, no.” I returned, interrupting
him. “Would to God I had him here
to quarrel with. Miss Grayson was
right. The man you have been using
your skill upon is no more Robert
Cameron than I am.”
I hardly knew whether to be irritat
ed or amused by that which followed.
Dr. Massey threw back his head and
roared with boisterous laughter.
“Ha! Ha! Ha! That’s the rich
est kind of a Joke, my dear fellow!”
he exclaimed, as his mirth subsided.
"Not Robert Cameron? Why, do you
know, Mr. Clyde, how many years I
have been his physician? No. Of
course you don’t. Ten years and over,
and I know Cameron as I know my
self.”
“Then tell me,” I said, irritation
having its way, “why on earth he
X .
ever had the Initials D. M. N. tattooed
on his left arm?”
The doctor’s quick changes of ex
pression were becoming an interest
ing study. The smile which had lin
gered after the laughter now gave
way to a lowered brow and pursed
lips.
"A tattoo mark on his left arm?”
he repeated, slowly. -There’s no such
thing there.”
“But there is.” I insisted; “there is.
at least, on the left arm of the man
you’ve been treating."
Dr. Massey was still thoughtful.
“There is some mistake,” he decid
ed.
“No, there is no mistake,” I as
sured him. “Miss Grayson’s eyes
were better than either yours or mine.
She saw at once that this outlaw was
not her uncle, and you and I fancied
we knew better. If you are still un
convinced, doctor. I’ll run you up in
my car, which is at the door, and
you shall satisfy yourself. Meanwhile
I’ll give you some of the confirma
tory evidence."
He went with me; and to him and
O’Hara, at the same time, I related
the dumfoundlng occurrences of the
previous night.
“And what did this McNish say?"
the doctor inquired, when I had fin
ished. “Did be admit the masque
rade?”
“He became delirious. There was
no getting a sensible word from him.
My own idea is that the delirium was
feigned.”
“Possibly.”
"Isn't It equally possible, doctor,”
I asked “thatv he has been feigning
since the first?”
“No,” was his answer. "I don't
think so. He may have exaggerated
his symptoms, when conscious, to
gain time; but if he had been able to
think clearly he would have secured
that letter before last night. You may
rest assured that that was the first
opportunity he had. after regaining
the power of thought continuity. And
still,*’ he continued, “I am not en
tirely convinced that he is not Rob
ert Cameron. If It is merely a resem
blance, as you claim, then it is the
most remarkable case of likeness that
I have ever encountered. Moreover,
! there is one thing we must not lose
sight of His abductors, as has been
demonstrated by everything they have
done, are an unusually clever and
cunning lot of men. To counterfeit
age. so far as the tattoo mark is con
cerned, is not so difficult as you might
imagine; and I should have to see the
scar before admitting that it is not of
recent origin. The letter might have
been a forgery, or a real letter, se
cured and placed in Cameron’s pocket
for this very purpose. And hypnotic
suggestion would easily explain his de
sire to secure and destroy it. The use
of a foreign tongue in his dementia
even, could be accounted for in the
same way.”
It was natural that Dr. Massey
should exert his ingenuity to reconcile
these divergent points. To him it
seemed, as it had to me, that a mis
take as to the identity of the patient
was incredible. But now I simply
shook my head in negation.
“Wait until you see him again, doc
tor,” I requested. “Wait until you read
his face, not for what Is on the sur
face but for what is behind it.”
The motor, drawing a swift diagonal
to the curb, came creepingly to a halt
before the Cameron house. As I was
about to alight. Dr. Massey laid a de
taining hand on my arm.
“If jour conclusion is correct.
Clyde,” he said, gravely, "what course
do you propose to take? Do you real
ize what is involved? Don’t you see
that your conviction and mine is one
thing, but that to convince the public
is an entirely different matter? Can
we afford to give this man up for his
crimes. until we have Cameron actu
ally here to prove that it is not he
who was thus involved sixteen years
ago.”
In the recent result of developments
I had not thought of that. But I saw
now that it presented a problem no
less perplexing than some of those
which had Just been solved.
CHAPTER XXV.
Enemies Face to Face.
As events shaped themselves the
problem presented by Dr. Massey
found a speedy solution. Had I been
compelled to grapple with it unaided
I am not yet sure what course I should
have pursued. Of my own volition I
must have hesitated to take a step
which could not fall to throw suspi
cion—at least among the only par
tially informed—upon my absent and
defenseless friend. But all choice in
the matter was denied me.
I arranged with Dr. Massey that he
should go unaccompanied to his pa
tient’s room. and. without so much as
a hint that he was cognizant of what
had transpired on the previous night,
make whatever examination he
deemed necessary to a definite conclu
sion.
In the meantime, having learned'
from Checkabeedy that Evelyn was in
the breakfast room, I joined her there.
Her curiosity had ripened by a night's
suppression; and having dismissed the
footman who was serving her, she at
once demanded the fulfillment of my
promise to tell her everything.
"It's another case where you have
the right to say, ‘I told you so,’ ” I be
gan, as I took a chair next to her.
In her wide blue eyes I read that
she divined my meaning.
"Yes,” I went on, "the man upstairs
is not your uncle. We have been
nursing a viper, it seems, who prom
ises to give us a deal of trouble be
fore we are through with him.”
There was no need for her to ques
tion me. Rapidly, succinctly. I told
her the story I had learned from Yup
Sing; told her, too, of the scene In
the bedchamber, after I had left her
on the previous night; and showed
her the letter from McNish's poor old
Scotch mother.
"There, there,” I soothed, as in si
lence but with quivering lips and eyes
overflowing, she started to read the
tremblingly penned sentences a sec
ond time. "I'm sorry for the dear old
creature, too, but—”
"Philip," she interrupted me, her
face and voice alike pleading. “Let
us send him back to her!”
“Send him back!” I repeated in
amazement.
“Yes. We can. can't we? We don’t
have to give him up to those horrid
Chinamen, do we? He’s well enough
to go. isn’t he? Why can’t we call a
cab, give him enough money for his
passage and send him. at once?
There’s a steamer sailing this morn
ing. isn’t there?”
For Just a moment I was on the
point of yielding. Seldom has a vil
lain had a more puissant advocate
than had McNish in this enthusiastic,
resolute girl, spurred to his salvation
by the pathetic appeal of that mater
nal yearning which breathed from ev
ery line of the letter before her. The
unselfish purity of her cause illumined
and transfigured her. Her beauty was
radiant.
“Answer me!” she insisted, impa
tient at my silence. “Isn’t it possible?
Isn’t it really the very best w-ay out of
a difficulty? It will never do to admit
that we have had that man here in
mistake for Uncle Robert, you know.”
“But there is something you have
forgotten, my dear child,” I objected,
with all the mildness I could bestow
upon the words. “In your wish to give
Joy to this poor old mother—and in
that I am with you heart and soul—
you have quite overlooked the fact
that we are still with scarcely a scin
tilla of Information concerning the
present whereabouts of your uncle.”
“Oh, no. I haven’t,” was her prompt
rejoinder, “but I don’t see what that
has to do with it. except that it makes
it all rr.e more necessary to pretend
that we still believe this McNish is j
he. How will sending McNish abroad !
hinder—” And then she broke off, j
suddenly, as I had rather expected she 1
would, knowing what a keen brain she •
had and how once she got a clear per
spective on the situation, she must see
again the very point she had suggest
ed once herself, and which I had still
in mind.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Duck Rid Room of Flies
Management of Chicago Hotel Will In
the Future Pin lt« Faith to
Domestic Bird.
The manager of a big Chicago hotel
has found a very simple solution of
the fly problem. It Is a flock of ducks.
The ordinary hotel perhaps has no
particular accommodations for live
ducks; but in this there is a fountain
in the center of the approaches to the
various dining rooms. The fountain
has a large basin, and just by way of
novelty the manager several months
ago placed a few ducks in the water.
They paddled around and enjoyed it,
and the guests enjoyed seeing them.
But, better still, the ducks also enjoy
ed the flies that attempted to enter
the dining rooms and feast upon the
good things therein. The flies—in
Chicago, at least—fly low; and ducks,
as any one tyho has ever seen tham
knows, are especially quick in catch
ing insects. The consequence is, this
particular hotel, once troubled with
flies, now has practically none. And
the ducks, once lean to verge of
scrawniness, are fat and sleek.
The duck method of disposing of
the fly nuisance cannot, of course, ob
tain in private households to any de
gree; but in this particular hostelry
the ducks have caused the wire fly
swatter and traps to be thrown into
the ash heap.
Perhaps next year the enterprising
manager will attach some sort of a
meter to every duck, so that at the
end of the season he can tell how
many flies each busy fowl has disposed
of with neatness and despatch.
One Way of Putting It.
Even the women admit that a cer
tain Topeka baby is homely. But
they put it diplomatically. They say
it looks like its father.—Topeka Cap
ital.
UNITED STATES LAGS
Way Behind in Matter of Im
proved Highways.
Of 2,200,000 Miles in This Country Lesi
Than 200,000 Are Up to Date—
$250,000,000 Is the Annual
Loss to People.
What is the use of rural free deliv
ery mail routes and the parcel -post
system if there is to be no improve
ment of the public roads for the eco
nomic delivery of parcels and mails 1
According to a bulletin issued by the
office of public roads, there were in
the United States in 1909 2,199,645
miles of public roads, and the total
mileage of improved public roads was
only 190,476. Yet we boast that the
United States- is a highly civilized
country and make faces at the eflete
countries of the old world, in some
of the most decadent of which, as we
are accustomed to call them, the
people know where they are going
when they start, and have some idea
of when they will get there and v.-hat
it will cost them to make the journey
There is a good deal of humbug in the
claims we make for ourselves, particu
larly when it comes to practical things
although we are willing to admit with
out argument that we are the most
practical people in the world.
Recently what is called the second
National Good Roads Federal Aid con
vention was in session in Washing
ton. The place of meeting could not
have been better selected; the time
could not have been more inauspi
cious. Nobody was thinking about
good roads, except the nearest cut tc
the White House and the offices wait
ing for distribution. It was announced
in the official program of the meet
which was called by the American Au
tomobile association, that "the distinct
purpose of this gathering is to create
a concrete plan which shall logically
involve our national government in the
highways progress of the country."
That is a tine purpose; but with the
old ones going out in shoals and the
new ones coming in without any spe
cial purpose or any purpose that has
been formulated clearly, this was hard
ly the time for the association to make
a very deep impression upon the leg
islative and disposing mind.
For two days the convention dis
cussed good roads in a most intelli
gent way and a mass of valuable in
formation was obtained from expert
testimony, foreign and domestic, that
would lose much of its force if it
should be suffered to "perish with the
using” or the speaking. The main
contention of the association is that
“it is the duty of the federal govern
ment to supplement state and county
systems with a plan of national roads
connecting all parts of the country.
That is a most ambitious project,
but none too ambitious for a country
so big as this. There are something
like 3,000 counties in the United States
and it is well within the mark to say
that in not one-half of these counties
is there anything like what could be
called by the utmost stretch of cour
tesy a road “system.” The official fig
ures prove this without argument.
The ratio of good roads to bad roads
Is as 199,000 is to 2,000,000, and, a3 Mr.
Dooley would say, "there ye are.” But
it is as certain as taxes that good
roads are coming. The idea is taking
hold of the public imagination and will
soon make its way into the public
pocketbook. It costs from five to ten
cents, according to the classification,
to haul a ton of freight by the much
abused railroads' a hundred miles or
so; it costs about tw'enty-three cents
a mile to haul a ton of almost any sort
of freight over most of the public
highways in this country, and these
highways are in the daily use of the
people in their most intimate and nec
essary business. It has been estimat
ed that bad roads cost the people ot
the United States not less than $250,
000,000 a year.
Cost of Transportation.
It costs the American farmer 25
cents a ton per mile on an average to
haul his produce to market or to the
railroad station. In England, France
and Germany hauling costs from 7.7
to 13 cents per ton qiile. The differ
ence is due mainly to the improved
roads in Europe.
Keep People in Country.
Good roads will keep people in the
country and will bring city people to
the fresh air.
To Town by Telephone.
Did you ever hear this ? The roads
were so bad that the only way he
could get to town was by telephone.
Increase Morality.
Good roads will increase health,
happiness, education, religion and
morality.
Decrease Profanity.
Good roads will decrease profanity,
discouragement, back taxes, sheriffs’
sales, sour grapes and grouches.
Good Trade Mark.
Improved roads are a good trade
mark for any community.
Invoke a Blessing.
Good roads invoke a blessing upon
any people who build them.
Horse Knows.
If you want to know if good roads
are a good thing, ask a horse.
Prosperity and Profanity.
Good roads promote prosperity; had
roads provoke profanity.
Does Backache
Worry You?
Many who suffer with backache and
weak kidneys are unnaturally irritable
and fretful. Bad kidneys fail to elim
inate all the uric acid from the sys
tem, keeping you "on edge" and caus
ing rheumatic, neuralgia pains.
When your back aches, and you notice
signs of bladder irregularities, suspect
your kidneys and begin using Doan s
Kidney Pills, the best recommended
special kidney remedy.
Ail Arinina* Cue
Mrs. Joseph Gross,
Church St.. Morri 11
ton, Ark.,says: “For
weeks I was all dou
bled over with pain.
I became so dizzy I
had to grasp some
thing to keep from
falling and my an- ,
kies were swollen to
nearly twice their
natural size. None of
the doctors under
stood my case and I
felt m/self sinking
lower day by day. I
Improved rapidly
through the use of
Doans Kidney Fills
and before long was
entirely cured.
"Bvtry Pictun TJli a -Story. ** I
Gat Doan’s at Any Store, 50c a Box
DOAN’S SKiP
POSTER-MILBURN CO- B«fMo.N«w Vorh
SPECIAL TO WOMEN
Do you realize the fact that thousands
of women are now using
A Soluble Antiseptic Powder
as a remedy for mucous membrane af
fections, such as sore throat, nasal or
pelvic catarrh, inflammation or ulcera
tion, caused by female ills? Women
who have been cured say “it is worth
its weight in gold.” Dissolve in water
and apply locally. For ten years the
Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine Co. has
recommended Paxtine in their private
correspondence with women.
For all hygienic and toilet uses it has
no equal. Only 50c a large box at Drug
gists or sent postpaid on receipt of
price. The Paxton Toilet Co., Boston,
Mass.
Anyway, the sign of old age is never
a forgery.
Red Cross Ball Blue gives double value
for your money, goes twice as far as any
other. Ask your grocer. Adv.
The two most important needs in a
woman’s life seems to be love and
money.
Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup for Children
teething, softens the gums, reduces influrama
uon .allays pain,cures wind colic,25c A ootUejtd*
A soft answer may not turn away
wrath, but it saves a lot of useless
talk.
Dr. Pierce's Pleasant Pellets first put up
40 years ago. They regulate and invigorate
stomach, liver and bowels. Sugar-coated
tiny granules. Adv.
The old fashioned mother and her
slipper have qualified many a man
for the presidential chair—even if he
didn't land.
Women who spend most of their
time trying to improve their com
plexions never think of the old fash
ioned method of steaming it over a
washtub.
Both True.
“I heard quite a paradoxical remark
the other day."
“What was it?”
“That though there is no excuse
for crime, there is generally a* war
rant for it."
A Negative Merit.
She—Have you any strawberries?
Dealer—Yes'm. Here they are, a
quarter a box.
She—Goodness! They're miserable
looking, and so green.
Dealer—I know, mum, but there
ain’t enough in a box to do you any
harm.
Alarmed for His Mother.
Little Harry, hanging about the
kitchen, saw a 6tuffed fowl sewed up
before roasting. He was much im
pressed by the sight. A few nights
later his mother, hastily dressing to
go out, found that a new frock had
been sent home without the proper al
lowance of hooks and eyes. Summon
ing aid, her sister basted the frock to
gether up the back.
"Grandma,” said Harry, seeking the
source of perennial sympathy and com
prehension, "come and see what aun
tie’s doing to mamma. I think she’s
going to roast her, for she's sewing
her all up.”
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