TED) CMC «fA ber i PajAon TerhmiG) AUTHOR OF THE "THE FIGHTER," "CALEB CONOVER," “SYRIA FROM THE SADDLE." ETC. NOVELIZED FROM THE PATHE PHOTO PLAY OF THE SAME NAME BY WILL M RITCHEY. l.rtlinara and that member hxs glwaea ten a . nnitnal Jim and hi* •eraard *en Ted are the omy known llv leg »f the B> rden kin Max Lamar, ade Ipetive. * detailed to keep an eye on *"Cir--to Jim " Jane Trai l* and tier moth er ret Borden a* i - t» release.!. “Circle Jts- at:d Ted are killed. "Tile la*t of the Borden*.” ray* l-xmar But the next day be area the Rod Circle on the hack of a •ar.iii'1 hand outside a curtained auto mahe June Travia. marked with ttie Bad Ctr< 1*. rob* Uraat. a loan shark. O-ar.' employs Lamar Mary. June's nurse, discover* June's theft and tl.e Hed CSrct* yt> tier hand, and tel is her sh. i* —Tie. |e Jlm'*“ daughter. though Mr* Tratt* does nor know Mari dresses a* the vet led woman and i* pursued by la ar HI e escape* leaving tier . oat a* a elus la his hand* June disguised a* a hs» recover* the coat from potter hiptd pua-■ ee*. FIFTH INSTALLMENT WEAPONS OF WAR “I believe Use Red Circle never ■bows oe your hand except when you re planning some wicked mis chief* " croaked old Mary, as she passed at the door of June’s bedroom, sariy next morning, her arms piled high with clothes. "Tea." raid June, drearily, with a guilty glance at her handbook. "I've thought so. too." "It was there last evening It isn’t there this morning." went on the old woman, depositing the clothes on a chair and beginning to arrange them, oae by one. in a wardrobe trunk. “What were you up to. dearie? Tell Marr." "Nothing at all" declared June, her eye# fixed anxiously on the trunk Mary Mas packing. ' Please don t let s talk about it. It makes me so miser able I’ve packed part of the trunk," ahe added . Don t disarrange that Part of it. Mary." fi-fore breakfast. June had gone to Mrs T-avts; and. on piea of feeling “run "own" had persuaded her to dose ’he town house that very morn Lie a fid tc go for the season to their sums -r cottage at SurfLon. s • s s • • s Max la mar had been closeted for an hour with Chief of Police Alien. They had t» .sted the new development of the "Red Circle" mystery inside and out studying it vainly from every im aginable angle. First of all. they had ascertained— what they had already been sure of— that no tailor in city or sta'e was named Altman, and that neither city n< r state contained any master tailor w 3*> was a mute Also, a vigilant aear'ti of every tailor shop, by a doz en detectives, had failed to identify any employer or employee with the dumb youth of the preceding night. * Haro you tried your pretty little portra.t gallery?" asked Lamar. No. Well run over It. if you like. Id spot that lad's face anywhere." With the help of his secretary and of Policeman Meek*—the only men Suppose I Orcp Around to See Smit ing Sam?” who had had a good look at the dumb tailor—the chief began a hasty search of the roller tion. "Hero a old 'Circle Jim.' ” said the chief once, aa be glanced over a hand ful of photos A few minutes later he paused at another likeness. “Remember this chap’" he asked Lunar, handing him an oblong of aardboard i-em.r took the photograph and. half aland, read the words scrawled on »: “Sam Eager—alias ‘Smiling Sam’— jewel hurg la—Close associate for jmn of H rae Jim' Borden—Claims to have reformed. Hat email cobbler shop at 1019 Bright way. Height 5 feet 8 inches. Weight 240 pounds. Identify ing marks—’’ “Smiling Sam Eagan!" broke off La mar, “I'm not likely to forget him. We got him when we got 'Circle Jim'. Hut he was too slick for us to give him all he deserved. He was turned loose about a year ago, wasn't he? That was the first time I ever heard of Miss June Travis—the young lady we met in the park, you know, when we were looking for the Veiled Wom an. I heard at the prison how she met Smiling Sam when he got out, and how she was fooled by his maudlin pledges of reform. He’d learned cob bling during bis term. And she spent | good money to set him up in a shoe maker shop of his own." “She's the salt of the earth, that girl," commented the chief. "Suppose I drop around to see Smil ing Sam," said Lamar. “Sam Eagan?" returned the chief, looking once more through a hand ful of photos. “Here you are: Cob bler shop at 1019 Bright way. I’ve had him watched once or twice. But there’s nothing on him." • •••••• Sam Eagan's shop faced on a cor ner, and behind it was a disreputable looking back yard separated by a rickety gate and a tumbledown board fence from the alley at the rear. The corner was uninviting, even for corner loafers. Yet one such loafer infested it at all hours of the day. This consistent idler was a thickset youth, clad in shabby gTay. His name was Tom Dunn. His mission in life seemed to be to lean half-asleep against the lintel of Sam Eagan's door way, puffing cigarettes. It was an uninspiring life that Mr. Thomas Dunn led. Long since, the neighbors had ceased to interest them selves in him. Had the neighbors looked closer, they might perhaps have noted that his half-shut eyes were as bright as a rat's, and that those same apparently drowsy eyes were forever shifting their gaze up and down the street. Also, that Mr. Dunn at intervals would step back into Smiling Sam s shop. Tom Dunn, this morning, lounged as usual, in front of Smiling Sam's shop; smoking an ill-made cigarette; and ; loafing away the early hours when 1 most of the world was at work, i Inside the dingy little shop. Sam himself was up to his eyes in toil. The shop's dirty walls re-echoed to the quick taps of his hammer, as he drove tiny bright nails into tough sole ! leather. As Eagan, cross-legged on his low 1 bench, sat hammering gaylv away, Tom Dunn ducked his unshaven visage | into the room. jases comin . announced Dunn; and returned to the front steps once more. Smiling Sam looked up with a friendly r.od. a moment later, as a | cadaverous man of middle age sham bled into the shop. The newcomer bore under bis arm a crude little news paper parcel. He handed it to Sam, without a word. Eagan unrolled the newspaper wrap pings. Out fell a dusty shoe, whose sole was all but gone and whose heel was "run” at the left side. Smiling Sam picked up a cobbler's knife and proceeded to pry off the battered shoe s still more battered heel, Jake standing in nervous expectancy be hind him and looking avidly over the cobbler’s fat shoulder. Presently, the heel came away from the shoe. It was hollow, and it was wadded with tissue paper. Sam care fully undid the tissue folds. Out of them dropped a round brooch, set with alternate pearls and diamonds of a fair size. "How much?” demanded Jake. "Twenty.” was Sam’s terse verdict. "Twenty." snorted the indignant j Jake. “Twenty what? Twenty nothin’! Twenty dollars for that bit of Easy Street Pavement? Why, the gold set tin' is worth more 'n that, you measly old gouger?” "Twenty!” snapped Eagan. “Take j it or leave it.” “I’ll leave it. then.” stormed Jake. “I’m not going to be robbed. Give it back to me.” “Sure,” smiled Eagan, blandly, re turning the brooch to him; and at the same time absentmindedly pulling from his trousers pocket a roll of bills which he fingered carelessly. To Jake the sight of money was a bone to a starving dog. He wavered. Then— "Oh, take it, you swine!” he growled, tossing the brooch down upon Eagan’s leather-aproned lap. "Take ^t. 1 hope it lands you in the pen!” S&q peeled two greasy ten-doll&r bills from the roll, handed them to Jake and put the rest of the money back in his pocket. He picked up the brooch. As he did so, Tom Dunn slipped hurriedly into the, shop. “Max Lamar—fly cop—” he report ed, “Cornin' down the block; lookin' at the numbers on the houses.” “Gee!” babbled Jake, “He'll spot me. dead sure! He's—” i “Out the back way,” ordered Sara. The lookout caught the shaking Jake by the arm and hustled him toward the back of the shop; to a place where the blank surface of the wall was broken by several shelves on which stood a sparse array of shoe boxes. Dunn thrust his hand in among these boxes. Instantly, a section of the wall—shelves and all—opened out ward, revealing a passageway behind. Through this opening. Dunn shoved the panic-stricken Jake; closing the thick secret door behind them. Jake and his conductor found them selves in a dim-lit inner room, unfur nished save for a big and dog-eared calendar that hung on one wall, and a broken packing box below it. Dunn pushed violently at a slab in the chipped plaster of the adjacent wall. The plaster gave back at his push. A doorway, perhaps three feet high and twenty inches or less in width, took the place of the seemingly solid plastering. Through this hole, closing it behind them, the two wriggled; out into the yard beyond; and thence, through the rickety gate to the alley way. Meantime, left alone in his shop, Smiling Sam Eagan saw a long shad ow fall athwart the street threshold and hesitate there for an instant. No time was to be lost. Sam slipped the brooch back into the hollow of the shoe-heel; and, with two deft blows of the hammer, nailed the heel into place on its shoe. He was driving the second nail, when Max Lamar sauntered into the shop. Max glanced down approvingly at the busy old fellow tacking a worn heel on to a worthless shoe. "Well, well, Mr. Lamar!” he cried jovially, holding out an enormous hand. “This is an honor I wasn’t a-looking for. Sit down. Tou'il find that bench clean. I think. I try to “Let me take that bnm old shoe you're playing with. Mr. Lamar. It’ll get yon all dirty.’* t Thinking Sam was trying to change the subject in order to avoid talking of the Red Circle, Lamar paid no heed to his request; but kept on swinging the shoe idly to and fro. as he asked: "That Red Circle, now—you remem ber what Jim Borden used to say about it." “That it cropped out once in every generation of his family,’’ supplement ed Eagan, “and that the person who had it was always a criminal." “I have reason to believe it was gospel truth. Eagan.” said Lamar. “The Red Circle on the back of the hand has always been the sign-manual of a crook, in the Borden family. And-" “Not always," corrected Sam. “There was that son of his—young Ted Borden—for instance. He was a cheap crook, right down to the ground, that youngster was. But there wasn't any Red Circle on his hand. That shoe, now—” he continued anxiously; but Max interrupted. “That brings me to the point. You say Ted Borden had no Red Circle on his hand. And Ted died when his father died. But how about Jim Bor den’s other children?” “ ‘Circle’ Jim's other children?” cried Sam, in a wonder that was palpably genuine. “His other children? Why, man alive. Jim Borden never had an other child but Ted.” “I’ll tell you why I ask.’’ said Lamar, impressively, leaning forward and em phasizing his words by tapping the shoe against his knee. "Because I hap pen to know that no less than two peo ple in this very city today have the Red Circle on the backs of their right , hands." He broke oft and looked down with ; sudden curiosity at the shoe he was The Cobbler Picked Up a Short-Handled Hammer. keep things as tidy as 1 can. This is like old times, seeing you again." “Thanks,” said Lamar, seating him self on the shiny bench and taking out his cigarette case. “It's good to see you so nicely fixed here, Sam. And it's good to see you aren't scared at sight of—” "That's right, sir," chimed in Kagan, with a big laugh of genuine amuse ment. "Why, I can remember the day when I'd a run a-screechin' up a tree if you came in sight. Lord, but it's worth while not to be scared stiff every time a detectivp happens 'round!” Abruptly Max came to the object of his visit. “Eagan," he said, “I’ve called around here this morning to see if I can get some information from you. I want to talk with you about 'Circle Jim' Borden.” “Old ‘Circle Jim!’” exclaimed Sam. “Why, Jim's dead. Too dead to skin.” “You and he were pretty close friends, weren't you?”* "Me and Jim? Yes. Good friends for more years than you'd know how to remember," replied Sam. Max caught sight of the shabby and dusty shoe lying on the bench beside him—the shoe at whose heel the cob bler had been tinkering when his vis itor entered. Lamar picked up the shoe, absent-mindedly and, taking hold of the tip of its laces, began to swing it carelessly to and fro, as if it had been an uncouth pendulum. Sam watched him in furtive anxiety. Max went on: “What I want to ask you about is the queer Red Circle on the back of Jim Borden's hand. You remember it, of course?” “Sure I remember it. sir. Who wouldn't?” answered Sam. adding: holding. As he had been abstractedly shaking it to and fro he had all at once noticed that a faint rattling sound came from somewhere within the shoe. "There.'s something loose in the heel of this shoe," he said, “something that rattles like a loose bit of metal." Sam did not answer. Surreptitious ly the cobbler had reached behind him and had picked up the heavy, short handled hammer with which he had been working. “Yes." went on Lamar, “there’s something rattles in this heel. Just as if there was a compartment inside, with something lying loose in it.” He picked up an awl from the bench and inserted it between heel-tap and 'upper.” Eagan drew a long breath and half-lifted the hammer. “Good morning. Sam," came a clear young voice from the doorway. "I'm going out of town for the summer. I stopped in on my way to the station to see how you are getting on and to tell you—Oh, how are you, Mr. Lamar? It's so dark in here, after the sunshine, I didn't see you.” The spell was broken. The tension was relaxed. Lamar, at sight of June Travis, let the shoe tumble to the floor, forgotten, as he sprang up to greet her. Sam laid down the hammer with a grunt of reaction. As Lamar strode forward to meet June the cobbler thrust the' shoe into the breast of tiis own shirt and substituted for it an other one from a nearby pile on the floor. “How are things going. Sam?” asked June, cheerily, turning from Max as the cobbler reached her side. “Is the rheumatism any better? And do peo ple pay their bills any more prompt ly?” “The rheunv',”-’n is prettv bad, 4 miss.” said Sam, with a fine show of courage, "but I can stand it. The doc tor did it a lot of good last month; but he won't give me any more treat ment, he says, till I pay the twenty five dollars 1 owe him on his last bill. So I guess 111 have to grin and bear it awhile longer.” j "You poor old thing,” said June, in quick sympathy. "Indeed you shall not •grin and bear it' another day. Here," taking three bills from her handbag, "pay that cranky bear of a doctor this very morning and have him give you treatment. Tell him to send his next bill to me. I must go now. My mother and Mary are waiting for me in the ear, outside there. Good-by, Sam; good-by, Mr. Lamar.” But Max would not be dismissed in this fashion. He insisted on going to the car with her. and, on the way, he managed to angle successfully for an invitation to call on her at the Surfton cottage. After which he stared at the auto mobile until it bore her out of sight. Then he wandered on down the street, planning busily—not for the solving of the Red Circle mystery, but to dis cover some way of arranging his work so as to leave him an entire after noon and evening free for a run to Surfton-by-the-Sea. Sam Eagan and the mysteriously rattling shoe were quite wiped from his mind. Sam, meantime, his professionally genial smile glued to his red face, was looking down at the twenty-five dol lars June had so generously forced upon him. But, though his eyes were fixed on the money in his hand, his mind was not. Twenty-five dollars, just at present, seemed to Smiling Sam a pitifully small sum. For he had sudden visions of an infinitely larger amount. Visions so bright as to take away, for the mo ment. even the memory of his narrow escape from exposure in the matter of the hollow-heeled shoe. A mighty in spiration was gripping Sam Eagan; an inspiration born of his talk with Lamar. After a moment of thought he nod ! ded his head, stuck the money into his pocket and locked the door of his shop. Then he went to the secret door among the shoe-shelves and opened it Pass ing into the hidden room he crossed to where the dog-eared old calendar I hung on the wall. Lifting this calendar, he disclosed a cupboard behind it. Reaching into this, he pulled forth a telephone, took the receiver from the hook and called for a number. "Miss La Salle's apartment?" he asked presently; then: "That you, Alma?—Sam—Come around here in a rush. There’s something big. Hurry up.” Eagan returned to the shop, put on his coat and went out into the neigh borhood to do a litle shopping. Back home he came, and through to the hidden room; there depositing his purchases in the telephone cupboard behind the calendar. He had barely regained the front shop when a woman entered. Alma I.* Salle was perhaps twenty five. perhaps a little older. She was of medium height; wiry, dark and in clining to sallowness. She was an invaluable source of revenue to Sam. And. apart from her uncanny deftness at robbery, he knew he could always count on her wit and daring to carry out any campaign he might devise. "Hello, kid,” was his greeting, this morning. “You didn't waste any time. That’s right. You got a train to catch and some fancy packing to do. first." “Train to catch?” she repeated eag prlv "To Surfton-by-the-Sea. There's a big ball at the Surfton hotel tonight. Our man there tipped me to it. You're going to ‘operate’ at the ball." “But—” “It's a new angle we're going to work from, on this,” he pursued. “There ought to be a pot of cash in it. Elver hear of the Red Circle?” "Of course,” she made answer. "Who hasn't?” “Give me your hand.” he ordered. "The right one.” Wonderingly, Alma obeyed. Mois tening the brush and rubbing it on the red-paint cake. Sam proceeded to trace on the back of the woman's hand an irregular Red Circle. "Watch that closely.” he warned. "That's just the shape of the one Bor den had. Do you think you could paint that on,your own hand?” "Why, yes; but—” He dipped the sponge in the liquid from the phial and passed it over the circle. The paint quickly vanished. "There you are!” said he. "Go to the ball. Pinch everything you get half a chance at. Then sneak into some quiet corner to paint that circle on your hand. Manage to let the house detective or some of the guests get a glimpse of it. Then rub it off. When the yell goes up that a lot of boobs have been robbed the Red Circle will be sure to get tha blame for it.” • •••••• There was but one theme of import among the summer idlers at Surfton by-the-Sea. June had not been at the cottage an hour before she had heard the whole story -rom Mary, who had it from a neighbor. It seemed that Todd Drew, the dis solute young son of Amos Drew, the great inventor, had just arrived at the Surfton hotel. He had brought thither, so said report, a small flat metal case that was more deadly than fifty bat teries of siege guns. For this case contained the plans for a war-engine, infinitely ingenious and more murderous than any hitherto de vised. It was a veritable monster of destruction, this engine. By its use whole armies could be destroyed in a single minute. Amos Drew had invented the thing. Having done so he had been so ap palled by its possibilities for annihila tion that he had never put it upon the market, but had stowed the plans away among his private papers. But now Amos Drew was dead, and his only heir, Todd Drew, was busy wasting the paternal fortune. Thus it was, seaside gossip ran. thai he had brought to Surfton the terrible war-engine plans; and he was to meei here one Count Freel, the agent for t foreign government, to negotiate wtti him for their sale. With a shudder June dismissed th< story from her mind. To occupy hej thoughts, she resolved to take the bun I She Resolved to Toss the Bundle Intc the Sea. die of masculine clothing at once tc the nearest deserted pier and toss il into the sea. Half way to the pier she passed I ramshackle boathouse, whose weath er-warped boards were bulged and splayed. In several places, until they looked like the slats in front of a hen house. As June sped past the boat house she chanced to notice a large smooth stone—just the thing to weight the bundle she carried. She picked it up. opened the bundle at one end, dropped in the stone and fastened the package's string once more. At the same moment, from the shack just be hind her. she heard a man’s voice say ing impatiently: “I’m no blooming diplomat, count. Come down to cases. What will you pay?” June dropped the bundle she held. She stood transfixed, there, on the rocky beach, in front of the shack. Understanding came to her with a rush. So the story was true* June—the Red Circle blazing and pulsing on her white hand—had crept nearer and nearer to the shack. She peeped in. cautiously, through one oi the wide cracks in the boards. A crate had been turned upside down to serve as a table, and it stood close to the aperture in the boards. At the opposite ends of this impro vised table, on a couple of boat tres tles, sat two men. On the crate-table, just in front of Drew, rested an oblong metal dispatch box, perhaps ten inches long, four inches wide and two inches high. June drew back from the shack and glanced guiltily around. No one was in sight. Near by lay a fragment of wreckage, a thick board about five feet long. She carried It to the shack's only door, braced one end of the board against a bowlder in front of the door and then put the other end just be uteth the jutting cross-panel half way up the door. “Yes. sir!” Todd Drew was vocifer ating. “It’s worth an easy two million dollars to your government—or to any other warring country—to get these plans. They’re—” He broke off with a yell. For as he looked down at the metal box that had lain in front of him on the table it was no longer there. He was just in time to see a woman's small hand drawing the dispatch box cautiously out through a crack in the wall boards. Drew made a clutch at the vanishing hand and seized it by the wrist. “I’ve got her. count!” he cried. "Say. she struggles like a willcat Bun outside and grab her.” The count leaped for the door. At the same instant June's other hand ap peared through the adjoining crack. Its fingers grasped a long pin she had hastily snatched from her sailor hat. Into Todd's detaining fist she drove the pin, right mercilessly. With a howl of pain Drew relaxed his grip on her wrist. Her hands van ished—the dispatch box and the hat pin along with them—just as the count bellowed: “I cannot get this miserable door open! It is jammed!” June waited to hear no more. She tore open the end of the bundle, thrust the metal box into it, closed it again and, snatching it up. raced madly for the pier. Nor did she pause until she had hurled the bulky parcel far out into the sea. , Meantime, in the shack, pande monium had broken loose. Both men threw their bodies frantically against the unyielding door. As the door at last fell Todd and the count rushed forth, panting, disheveled, in pursuit of the thief. “It was a woman!” puffed Drew as he broke Into a run. "Our only clue is that I saw the sleeve of a sailor suit and—and—there was a fiery Red Cir cle on the back of her hand!" (END OF FIFTH 1NTALLMENT.) FfflD CAVE TOMB IN BETHANY Crest Age and Permittance of Village Known in Discovery of Canaan it* Relics. Tb* recent discovery of • Canaanlte eova tomb with »*« characteristic pot iorr sod oeapoes on «be ground of .. p,Mionm father* of tbe village . f^tbany la of considerable Inter ^ U! too dl*«srent directions, a writer *th. KbiA. gcbool Times says « tbe mticb then, furnishes iltnatimuon. o. ■ have been bo many In recent years, of the great age and persistence of the village—and town—sites in Pal estine Pere Vincent of the Dominican convent of St Etienne at Jerusalem. I one of the ablest of all Palestine archeologists, dates this tomb by Its character and contents ac belonging 1 to the period of the sixteenth to twelfth centuries. B. C. This places the town so familiarly associated with the hospitable home I of Mary and Martha and Lazarus ' 11 ] the long list of Palestine towns that | have come down from patriarchal times, or even earlier: Gezer, Lachish. Megiddo, Joppa. Taanach Jerusalem and many others. When we add to this fact the other, that the peasant language has In fair measure persisted in Palestine from earliest times through all the religious, political and military changes that have taken place, it comes about that antiquities found in Palestine take on a new and more dignified meaning. We seem t be dealing, and indeed are dealing, with a civilization that has not wholly passed away, but that tn seme good measure still persists In fac the persistence of ancient things in Bible lands has not been overestimated but rather underestimated it Is not im possible that the name of Bethany may be as old as the tnwnsite is now seen to be Then the discovery ot Canaaui'.e tombs at so widely spnarated places as t»erer. in the Pt'lisunp olain Bethshemesch in it" indpan font hills. Taanach on >n .it t-surae Ion and BethatM p»n it he mountains of Judah, gives definite ness of meaning to the times when “the Canaanite was in the and." The Gospel of Out of Doors. John Muir has done greater serv ice to all the people, and wi'l be missed wore by the whole country. ! than men of science whc may stand ! higher in its records John Muir in the West and lohn Burroughs in the East have mingled »1th the dry sci ence of earth life and history the sentiment of out of doors and the po etry of universal life. Their sense of the romance of science has fos tered a broader and deeper appre ciation of the common sympathy of human and animal, plant and past earth life than the dry study of the biologists and geologists on one aide, or the misleading sentimentalism of the animal fakers in literature on the other They have brought the feel ing of out of doors borne to students without repelling them with fiction, and to all humanity without leading it away from troth • ___" -• tna-s* FALLING HAIR N!e1$ DANDRUFF IS AOflVE Save Your Hair! Get a 25 Cent Be of Oanderine Right Now—Also Stops Itching Scalp. J Thin, brittle, colorless anil s ! hair is mute evidence of a iu-_ ' scalp; of dandruff—that awful There is nothing so destrinm 1 the hair as dandruff. It rol.> tl» I ! of its luster, its strength siimI , j life; eventually producing it . ness and itching of the v i,i. A if not remedied causes the hair ; to shrink, loosen and di. hin j hair falls out fast. A liti li, ,, I tonight—now—any time j save your itair. Get a 25 cent bottle of l\ • Danderine from any store, ! the first application your h ; take on that life, luster and lux j which is so beautiful. It will 1 I wavy and fluffy and have the a( ] ance of abundance; an incompat j gloss and softness, but what • [ please you most will be after j•.' ! few weeks’ use, when you will actual ! ly see a lot of fine, downy hair in * ! hair—growing ail over the scalp. Adv. LOVE THRIVES ON EUGENICS Marriages in Milwaukee Are on the Increase Despite Law Against Unfit. Marriage goes merrily on in Milwau kee, regardless of the eugenics law. says the Sentinel of that city. Figures in the county clerk’s office show an increase in both 1915 ami 1916 Over 1914 in the number of K j censes issued. The eugenics law. in * operation for three years, has had no ; effect upon the celebration of the time l honored nuptials. “I still maintain that the eugenics law has been of tremendous benefit tu j the people of the .state," declared Mrs j G. A. Hipke, sponsor for the law. "It is asserted that doctors make only >u perficials tests of men who come to them for examination before marriage, but I contend that no conscientious physician could pass upon a case which might later bring results that would reflect upon his earlier judgment." ‘ Mrs. Ilipke declared that, while she had no present intention of agitating any change in the law slie might coa ! sider a broadening of the law that would include the women as well ns the men in the prenuptial examinat ion The Conebo, Sliippo, Coeoamo and Tahua tribes of Amazon Indians are still wearing clothes of grass. The United States lias IJSO piano fatv tones. When WorklsHard That kidney troubles are so coiumn-i U due to the strain put upon the kid neys in so Miany occupations, such as. Jarring and jolting on railroads, et> Cramp and strain as in bartering, moulding, heavy lifting, etc. Exposure to changes of temperature In iron furnaces, refrigerators, etc. Dampness as in tanneries, quarries, mines, etc. Inhaling poisonous fumes In paint ing, printing and chemical shops. Doan’s Kidney Pills are One for strengthening weak kidneys. A Nebraska Case maker, Seward, Neb., » says: “I suffered from g pains through t h e f small of my back, to- U gether with headaches - and dizzy spells. I 1 could hardly stoop _ and mornings I got up tired and worn out. The kidney secretions j were highly colored . and very painful in passage. Doan's Kid- \ ney Pills made my j kidneys normal and ] corrected all the oth- I er ailments. I seldom j have need of a kidney I medicine now.” Get Doana at Any Store, 80c a Box DOAN'S ■vsr.v FOSTER-MILBURN CO.. BUFFALO. N. Y. The Army of Constipation la Growing Smaller Every Day. CARTER’S LITTLE LIVER PILLS are ' respuiiMuie— uicjr . not only give relief A — they perma nently cure C« •tipatioi. MiI-> lions use, them for Biliostaeu, indigestion, aicn neaaacne, aauow dkio. SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE. Genuine mutt bear Signature r _ . j . ^, .. Mr. War—“Do >ou know what’s good lor ratt?** Miss Slowe—“ Wh>. poison, of course” Mr. Woe—“No. that would kill them—cheese.1* Do you know what’s good for a cough, throat and lung troubles, that will allay Inflammation and insure a good night asleep with free and easy expec toration In the morning? The answer always the same year after year, is Boschee’s German Syrup Soothing and healing to bronchial and throat irritation. 25c. and 75c. *11 Druggists and Dealers every where.^ Your grandfather used it 51 y*«r» ago. Try it yourself and see how It stops a hacking cough like magic. J\ I I STONES OPE RATIONS S L-rNo Oil) T&S& tea Headache. OonatlpauonYPile., Cat**! henroaaaeea. Bloae, Jaahdloe, Appendicitis. JffjS greeommon Gallstone symntuma-CAN BB CU»J£ Bead forborne treatment, MtaaJ Beet — POM ■’*« IlMMB, flail Trwklu SMI iiueadlcilli * flf ■WsMlmieOi, •sft«-4,tlSB. DmtSox