170) CMC Albert Par^nTerhmie) I 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. I iCOnmOKT, i«i 5. IY »LM#T PAYTON TWflJN* » i SYNOPSIS. *'C"ir !•- Jim" Borden, named from a red Mrthr »r«. . : ■ is served his IMrt prison term, tine in wli Borden ••oenu.cn. almay* a criminal, has tairne the Red Circle mark. Jim and his son To-1 are the only known living of the Bordens. Max Lamar, a detective, is de tailed to keep an eye on Jim. June Travis an ' t r mother meet Jim as he Is re leased Jim and Ted are killed. Next day Lamar see* the Red Circle on a wom en's hand outside a curtained automobile. June, marked w.th the Red Circle, robs Grach a loan shark. Mary. June's nurse, discovers her theft and tells her she la "Circle Jim's daughter, though Mrs. Train does not know Mary tricks La mar June, dressed as a boy. recovers Mary 's coat from the police Lamar visits •■Smiling Ham." JiraV ohl crime partner. At the seaside June steals war invention plans from Tc-dd Drew and sinks them in tiie sea with herhov's clothes. Sent to Bu'fwn by Sn ling Ham Alma l.a Sail, paint* the Red Circle on her hand and rob* the guests at a tail Mary s-es her •a. aS tlie mark and po n’s her out to Lamar who follows her back to town. SEVENTH INSTALLMENT THE THIRD DEGREE Far out on the horizon a sloop veered to the wind and bent its grace ful vails as if to scoop the crest of a frothy littie wg.ve. Mary and Jun wire sitting on the observation *orch of the Travis home, looking out over the beach ' It s almost deserted.” June said with some amusement. "Ai this hour, any other morning, tho beach would he crowded- The dance must have played havoc.” I think you should have slept tohger too " Mary smoothed back the girl s hair. "A young person like you ne-ds all the sleep she can get.” "Why. I'm as fresh as a daisy.” re belled June. "If 1 stay in bed too long 1 get all stupid and loggy. And. Just think how terrible it would be if I had been lazy this morning! That Woman in Black would have gotten awry safely As long as I'm a real Sleuth now. 1 iunt afford to sleep, overhours, you know.” Mary lo iked up at the mis* hievous, smiling face A sUiclov. of fear crept into her eyes. I wish you wouldn't have anything mere lo do with this.” she begged gently. "You are so young, so im pel*:-.» Don t you know if you play with Are you must be burned?' But I'm not playing with fire," ob jected .'line "And besides, don't you vee that I've taken out the safest sort o? sn insurance policy by joining tor e* * th Mr Lamar in tracking the Red Circle* ' ' I don t like it—1 don't like any-1 thing a.*out it.” Mary clasped and unclasp- i her hand* nervously. "You have t». tern* so headstrong, dear. M*- r so'e this mark came on your hand, you're so different.” "Oh. look!" June exclaimed, glad of as excuse to change the subject, 'took at the monkey. Mary. Isn t he (urfertiT adorable? Oh. you're not joking in the right place, lie s doing 1 *11 sorts of tricks. Isn t he wonder ful*** *1 think he's an awful looking thing, i I'm going into the house. I dont I want to look at him any more.” i ‘AH right; you go in. I'll stay out ■ here" I Jane leaned out over the porch rail. ' l keeping her eye* fastened on the l organ grinder. Mary watched the girl i hite her lips and frown. The signs I were alarming The old w oman looked i down at the hand on the rail, with I w y Started to Cut the Monkey's Rope. 11 frar and trembling. Her worst sus *lputons were realized. A faint red J' unbuckled the strap, just as a polJeman came running up. Pietro scrambled to his feet, chok ing with rage. A torrent of sound poured from his thick oily lips. “My monk gone—stole—girl—wom an—gotta round on hand! Stole! Cut-a rop$! Swipe-a monk! Beat it!” Mary stepped forward and spoke to the officer. “It seems that someone stole his monkey. He’s showing you the cut rope in his hand.” The patrolman raised his cap. “I didn’t see you at first. Miss Mary," he said pleasantly. “Yes, I understood that someone had copped the monkey; but what’s he getting at, drawing things on the back of his hand and moving his fingers like he was cutting paper?” “As near as I can make out,” Mary answered slowly, “the person who stole the animal cut the rope with scissors and had a mark of some kind on the back of her hand.” “A mark!” the policeman jumped eagerly at the word. "Say, was it a red mark—a Red Circle?" he asked Pietro excitedly. Seeing that at last someone was beginning to understand, Pietro went back into Italian hysteria. The policeman turned again to Mary. “You've been on the beach some time. haven’t you? Do you remember seeing anyone go past with a mon key?” “Certainly,” the old woman replied promptly. “I remember distinctly seeing a young woman on the beach with a monkey.” “Do you remember which way she went?” he asked. Mary, apparently thought deeply for a moment. “Yes,” she said at last, very delib erately, “she went down the beach in that direction.” Her finger pointed directly opposite to the way June had gone. “Thank you,” said the policeman. Motioning to Pietro, he started on “You Don’t Know Anything About Red Circles?’’ a run down the sand, the other spec tators following closely. Leaning up against the pillar of the house where “the Woman in Black" lived, Lamar, blowing rings of ciga rette smoke skyward, mused: “I wonder what June is doing. 1 wonder if she is thinking of me." His dreams were pleasant. Know ing that his quarry was safe in the house and that she seemed unsuspi cious of being trailed, Lamar did not see the use for any extra trick work. “When in doubt, pump the elevator boy,” had always been Lamar's motto. He turned to enter the house. A thick rubber mat, bound in metal, tripped him. He stumbled through the doorway and collided with a wom an. Bent over as he was, he couldn't see her face. His gaze fell upon a black leather handbag and a paper parcel that could have contained any thing from a picnic lunch to a pair of shoes. Bracing himself against the sides of the entrance he tried to get his balance. “Perhaps you'll allow me to pass," a cold, sarcastic voice broke in upon his distress. "Why certainly, madam, certainly," gasped poor Lamar, again threatened with a fall as he tried to be courtly. Then he raised his face. One look at the dark, slightly aquiline features and he was very erect and very cool. “On second thoughts," he said calm ly, “I don’t think I will. You're under arrest.” “Under arrest? Me?” she tossed her head, boldly. “I’d like to see you try to arrest me!" “You’re seeing It now," said Lamar simply. “Oh, so you think you can bully me into submitting to arrest, do you?” Just for an Instant he flashed a pair of handcuffs by a chain. They clanked ominously as he dropped them back into his pocket. “Do you come—or don’t you?” he Inquired politely. “Oh, I’ll go.” she answered after a minute's thought. Ten miuutes later, when she re belled, outside the entrance to the police station, he seized her arm and hustled her in, bringing her up before the sergeant's desk. "Well, Mr. Lamar,” satd the desk man, leaning over the edge to shake hands, "what can I do for you?” “I have just arrested this—er—this lady on suspicion, sergeant.” “Indeed!” The round-faced, gray haired officer looked over his glasses, sharply. “Name, please.” The woman raised her eyebrows. “Name, I said!” thundered the ser geant. "Oh, I don't know that I have to give it,” she said contemptuously. “Oh, yes you do,” Lamar broke in, “a word to the wise, you know. I ad vise you to make as little trouble as possible. And let me relieve you of your parcel and hand bag.” "La Salle. Alma I^a Salle,” she al most spat the name at the sergeant. Lamar opened the paper parcel, dis closing a pair of old shoes evidently on their way to the cobbler's to be soled and heeled. He threw them to one side, disappointed. Then with a caustic "May I?” he opened the hand bag and dumped its contents on the sergeant's desk. Lamar rapidly searched the mass and found nothing of importance. “Well, what’re you going to do about it?” she inquired with a emile. “I'm going to have you searched,” said Lamar quietly. “Sergeant, will you have someone search Miss La Salle, please?” The sergeant pressed the buzzer at i his right hand. A door in the back of the room opened almost instantly. A portly woman in a blue-and-white striped dress, partly covered with a white apron, stood at the threshold for a second, then came swiftly into the room. “Mrs. Murphy,” said the sergeant, briefly, "will you please search this woman and make your report, on what you find?” “Oh, Mrs. Murphy, would you mind making your report to me in the chief'8 office? I'm going in there now,” Lamar called after her. Lamar entered Chief Allen’s office, shook hands and dropped wearily into a chair beside the desk. “What's up? You look beat out,” was the chief’s greeting. “Oh, I’m not beat out,” the Crime Specialist squared his shoulders sig nificantly. “I’m not beat out by a j long shot, but I'm up a tree. I phoned j you some of the preliminaries of the i Red Circle chase—in fact, I told you about them pretty fully over long-dis tance today. Well, there's a new phase on deck and it's got me going. I have the woman here in the matron's room being searched. I arrested her on suspicion after trailing her from Surf ton. I have, every reason on God's earth to suspect her; and yet there’s a sneaking thought at the back of my brain that I'm not going to get anything on her. I want your help.” j "Count on that, all right,” said Al-i len quickly. "What happened down : at Surfton, after you phoned me about the—?” “Theft of jewels at the hotel ball? An old woman in hiding, in a big chair, saw this woman rub a red circle off the back of her hand with a wet sponge." “Here’s Mrs. Murphy, now.” Lamar got up and went toward the matron eagerly. “Well, what did you find?" The matron shook her head. “I didn't find a trace of the jewelry i’ou are looking for, Mr Lamar. The woman had on a cheap gold-plated bangle and an imitation pearl bar pin. There was nothing suspicious about her clothing.” “Didn't I tell you?” Lamar rushed back to the chief’s desk under the greatest excitement. “Didn't I tell you that I had a hunch that I wouldn’t get anything on this woman? And I know she’s guilty. I haven't tha slightest doubt about it now.” “Just a minute.” Allen pressed an electric buzzer. His secretary came in from the outer office. “Please bring me a warrant-to search blank, Mr. Holt,” said the chief. “I want to fill it out. Where did you leave the woman, Mrs. Murphy?” “I locked her in the detention room, sir.” "That’s right. Now will you go back and bring her into this office in five minutes? I’ll be ready for her then. What’s her name?” he asked Lamar as the matron left the room. “And her address. I’ll send two men over to her home." He took the blank from his secre tary and tried the point of his foun tain pen. “ ‘Alma La Salle,’ ’’ he repeated after Lamar, “ ‘301 Quincy street.’ Holt, send Quinn and Mulligan over. Tell them to do a good job—rush it—and beat it back here as quickly as they can.” There was a knock on the door, a few minutes later. It was opened in obedience to the chief’s “Come in.” Alma stood framed in the doorway, her face still as insolently haughty as when Lamar had first spoken to her. The chief eyed her steadily. It was a type he knew well. Very difficult to shake in giving testimony, very sharp tongued. The only salvation lay in getting this woman furiously angry. He had found that rage loosens the tongues of most women. “Name?” he said before she had a chance to collect herself. “Oh. you know my name,” she an swered viciously. “What do you sup pose I think you two have been doing in here all this tjine—having a kaffee klatsch?” Lamar moved forward to intervene, but Allen w’aved him back. “I think I can handle this young woman,” he said easily. “If I can make her understand, in the first place, that I’ll jail her immediately unless she answers my questions straight and as soon as I put them. Name?” he repeated, significantly. “Alma La Salle.” “I’ve seen you here before, haven’t I?” “You have not,” this very emphat ically. “No? I may be mistaken. I thought I had. What were you doing at Surfton?” “Wasn’t at Surfton. Never heard of the place.” “Well, of course the transfer that you have in your bag, punched ‘Surf ton,’ may be part of a collection. I hardly thought so,” drawled Lamar. “I tell you I've never been there,” she maintained with angry persist ence. “Well, we’ll let that go as it is,” said the chief suavely. “You’re an attractive woman. Miss La Salle. How is it that you are not married?” “Who says I’m not?” “Oh, so you are. Then why are you living alone in an apartment where you’re known as ‘Miss’ La Salle?” “Is that anyone's business?” “I choose to make it mine. How do you get your living, Miss La Salle?” “I have an income.” “From what sort of investments? Bonds—stocks—mortgages ?” “Er—mortgages.” “Ah, the safest sort of an invest ment—providing they are first mort gages. So that’s where your income comes from?” "You two think you're putting me through the third degree, don't you? Why you're a bunch of amateurs. Make me break down? Lord! You haven’t even got my goat!’’ “Oh. I think we have that, all right,” Lamar remarked with aggravating calm. “Now, I’m going to tell you a few things. We’ve had you trailed for forty-eight hours. Yes, that gets un der the skin, eh? And all we want to know is why you take the trouble to paint red circles on your hand when you operate so cleverly without them. What’s the use of doing things that'll help spot you—eh?” Alma looked at him with an amused smile. "You may be talking sense,” she re marked contemptuously. “But to me it sounds like they'd just let you out of a bat factory.” "You don't know anything about Red Circles?” “I do not.” The door opened suddenly. Two men, one in uniform, entered and placed a suitcase on the chief’s desk. Alma started forward in her chair. “Yes, it's yours.” soothed Lamar. ”We won't injure any of your things. We just want to take a look. "They've just brought it from your rooms.” Lamar opened the suitcase. He pulled out soft piles of silk lingerie and tossed them on the desk. “Say. have a heart the way you handle those things.” Alma said sharp ly. “They cost money.” "You bet they do,” Lamar answered the Command. “Those first mortgages | are certainly good to you.” His hand closed on something smooth and cold. He dragged it out from between the folds of an embroid ered kimono. It was a paint box! He fumbled as he opened it, because he did not want to take his eyes off Al ma’s face. He was surprised to find that there was not a quiver of an eye lash. Once open, he held up the box so the light hit the surface of the little tabs of paint. “Just as I thought,” he exclaimed, gleefully. "Oh, you're not such a clever little Raffles after all, Alma! You see, chief, only the red paint has been used. Wait a minute. I’ll find the sponge.” He plunged his hand into the suit case again and held up the tiny sponge, then bent over Alma solicit ously. “You see, if you'd been really smart,” he told her, “you’d have smeared up the other paints too. Then you could say that you were just an amateur artist who went to Surfton to do seascapes.” “Say, you think you’re a wonder, don't you?” she scoffed. Suddenly the door hurst open and slammed back against the wall so that the whole room shook. The sergeant, two old shoes swinging from his left hand, rushed in, his face scarlet with excitement. "Look at the swag! Look at the swag!” he shouted. Unclosing his right hand, he dropped a palmful of jeweled ornaments on the chiefs desk. Alma jumped to her feet. Terror blanched her cheeks. Her eyes were wild. With sudden cunning she “It's Almost Deserted,” Said June. bent, ducked under Lamar’s arm and made for the window. The chief swung around and grabbed the sleeve of her waist. It cracked at the shoul der seam. He put her, struggling, back in the chair, and stood in front of her. “Where'd you get it, sergeant?” La mar asked, holding lip a string ol pearls and a diamond lavalliere. “In the heel of the shoe. X was ticketing the articles taken from the different prisoners today, before I sent them into the other room, and all of a sudden I catch sight of this split heel. It looks queer. So I take my ! penknife out, just for fun, and start picking at it. And the thing comes off and there lays the swag!” “Give me the other one,” sard La mar. He struck it against the palm of his hand. It rattled. Suddenly a similar incident came to his mind. He dropped the shoe and seized the chief’s arm. “Yesterday when I was in ‘Smiling Sam’s’ shop,” he exclaimed suddenly “I—" Alma uttered a short, sharp sound then pressed her hand over her mouth. “Ah—that’s the one—eh? ‘Smiling Sam?’ Good girl—good girl! You screamed at Just the right time. You couldn’t have done better if you’d been rehearsed. Chief, will you give me a raiding squad? I’m coming dowD on that old smiler today—now! You hold the woman.” Lamar darted from the office. "Lock her up,” Allen told the ser geant. Out in the street Lamar was coach ing his men: “There’s an alleyway back of this joint. I don’t know how you get tc it through the shop, but take my word it’s a very important means of exit to ‘Smiling Sam.’ I want you two offi cers to get into that alleyway and wail there for whatever happens. Vaughan here, will go into the store with me." The two men started off down a side street. Lamar and Vaughan walked quickly until they got to the cornel of “Smiling Sam's” street. There they stopped deliberately and lighted cig arettes. They saw a man, who was hanging around outside, dive Inside the shop. “A lookout!” muttered Lamar “Come on. Vaughan! We’ll get in there double quick, before they have a chance to make a getaway. Anyhow, i the boys in the alley will get them.” j Lamar and Vaughan dashed across the street and through the ramshackle entrance to the store. At the back wall they saw a stout man trying to hurl himself through an opening that seemed less like a door than an earth quake gap. A sudden jerk from the other side of the wall yanked him through. A row of shelves slid into view. The opening was closed. “Open it! Open it!” howled Lamai to Vaughan. “Wait; I'll find the j spring! It's a secret door.” He passed his finger tips over the entire wall surface. He swept shelf fuls of shoe boxes to the floor. He got on his knees and tested the floor. His rapid, excited search was unsuccess ful. “Get a bench!” Max told Vaughan. “Get that heavy bench over there and batter it down. Hammer it, man! Give me one end of it. Now! To gether!" A long, crackling sound tore out through the heavy banging. A crack that showed yellowish white appeared. One leg of the bench crashed through the wood and stuck. The door began to give. From the yard, somewhere to the rear of thedl, arose the din of fierce battle. END OF SEVENTH INSTALLMENT. •WISTORY WRITTEN IN BLOOD Mn the Pest, as Now, Assyria Has 0 eeen the Theater of Conquest and Slaughter. V A new power. Assyria, had begun rtoe above the horizon, and from Vow onward, with occasional intervals ’Ey weakness and decline, this power VtrMaa like a colossus over the whole &f the ancient world, terrifying the aSattoas by its remorseless cruelty, ■ltd crashing down all opposition and all national aspirations by the ruth less force of one of the most tre mendous implements of-warfare ever forged by the hand of man. In the case of Assyria you have a highly organized and civilized people, skilled to an astounding degree in the arts, with all the power to do great things for humanity, but absolutely deficient in the will, the National Geo graphic Magazine observes. If you can imagine a man with no small amount of learning, with all the externals of civilization, with a fine taste in certain aspects of art, and a tremendous aptitude for organization and discipline, and then imagine such a man imbued with the ruthless spirit of a red Indian brave and an absolute delight in witnessing the most ghast ly forms of human suffering, you will have a fairly accurate conception of the ordinary Assyrian, king or com moner: the outside, a splendid speci men of highly developed humanity— the inside a mere ravening tiger. There is no need to wade through the dreary story of Assyrian con quest. King after king repeats, with monotonous reiteration, the story of endless campaigns, all marked by the same ruthless slaughter, the same ghastly cruelty and the same lack of permanent results. Apparently it was quite impossible for an Assyrian king to be a peaceful sovereign. His state lived by and for the army alone and if he did not give the army success ful employment he was quickly mur dered to make way for someone who would lead the troops to conquest 1 and plunder. Value of Old Violins. Genuine old violins when in a good state of preservation always command good prices. But the country is flood ed with cheap factory-made violins labeled *Stradivarius," etc., which ai^ of no particular value. In 999 cases out of a thousand a violin which is labeled as an “old master," is one of these modern productions, made in Germany or France, and worth only a few dollars. The only way to tell v. bother a violin has any special value or not is to submit it to some good / violinist—and even then the value la largely a matter of opinion. Such things have no standard market value, and everything depends on finding a purchaser who wants the article and will pay for it. Albert Spalding, the American violinist, has a Guamerlus violin for which he paid over $20,000, but there are other violins of the same make which would probably not bring a quarter of that, and there are thousands of fiddles with fake "Guar nerius" labels in them which are , worth very little.—Pathfinder. r AGIO Washing Stick not a soap, nor a bluinjr, x FOR WORK, cents at fToeers or fi A B. RICHARDS CO.. SHERMAN. TEXAS Automobile School Learn a business in six weeks. No books Easy to learn. Good saiary. Free ca.alog :<>tionl Auto School. 2814 N. 20th St.. Oiaaho. NeW. WHtnonE.Colenmn.tv inti |*«| IcSllA Ington.D.C Books free liign ■ ■ kCC B 'Uf est referencei.. Best result*. Not an Occasion for Praise. In doing what wo ought we deserve no praise, because it is our duty.—St. Augustine. ACTRESS TELLS SECRET. A well known actress gives the follow ing recipe for gray hair: . ilf pint of water add 1 oz. Bay Rum. a m i i.,,v of Barbo Compound, and ',4 oz. of gp < r;nc Any druggist can put this up o- . in mix it at home at very little o • m directions for making and us<- .. each box of Barbo Compound gradually darken streaked, fade hair, and make It soft and glossy, not color the scalp. Is not sticky . r greasy, and does not rub off. Adv. Its Lead. “I see that your woman r< p. has a decided tendency for milii.irj happenings.” “1 guess that is because >!o puts too much powder on her no>o for news.” HIGH COST OF LIVING This is a serious matter with 1 keepers as .food prices are e-out going up. 'To overcome this, cir ! the high priced meat dishes and -.-n. * your family more Skinner's Macaco and Spaghetti, the cheapest, in-.f licious and most nutritious of all i • - Write the Skinner Mfg. <’o.. (k • Xebr.. for beautiful cook liook. tel!:ug how to prepare it in a hundred different ways. It’s free to every woman.—Adv. Foolish Striving After Happiness i We all seek happiness so that in the pursuit we often !<■'• joyous sense of existence, and quiet daily pleasures, the vain : which our pride alone prevents u> acknowledging.—Sir Arthur Helps. 1 ANY CORN LIFTS OUT, DOESN'T HURT A BIT! * i * f No foolishness! Lift your corns ’ . and calluses off with fingers— ? It’s like magic! 7--,-., . , , Sore corns, hard corns, soft cor: - any kind of a corn, can harmh - lifted right out with the fingers if y> . apply upon the corn a few drop' freezone, says a Cincinnati authori:; . For little cost one can get a small bottle of freezone at any drug stor**. which will positively rid one's feet every corn or callus without pain. This simple drug dries the mom* m it is applied and does not even irn tate the surrounding skin while ap plying it or afterwards. This announcement will interest many of our readers. If your druggi hasn’t any freezone tell him to surely get a small bottle for you from his wholesale drug house.—adv. Japanese Trade in Manchuria. Sir. Yosiiida, who was selected l>> the Japanese government to inve-t gate commercial conditions in Man churia, has made a report giving