WEB OF STEEL
By CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY father and son
Copyright by Fleming H. Revell Co.
YOUNG MEADE MAKES A DISCOVERY WHICH TERRIFIES
HIM AND HE TRIES TO SAVE MANY LIVES
Tin- Martlrt Ciin«lniclli»n company is putting up a great inter
dmuoiuiI bridge planned b\ I'-ertruin Meade, Sr., a famous engineer.
Hi- sill, Itertram Meade. .Ir.. resident engineer at the bridge, is iu
hoe with Hoi -n Illingworth, daughter of Colonel Illingworth, pres
ident of the construction company, and they will marry as soon as the
bridge is complete. The young engineer questioned his father's judg
ment on the strength of certain important girders, hut was laughed
at. His doubts art* verified, however, and he makes desperate efforts
to stop construction, fearing great loss of life.
CHAPTER IV—Continued.
Bui Meade was out of lilt" house. It
was summer and tIi«* sun hail set. but
the tong twilight of the high latitude
•till lingered. Before him rose the gi
gantic strueture of the bridge. For all
it* airines* it Iixiktil ns substantial as
the It-., k of Gibraltar, and it looked
even u. -re substantial if possible, as
the man. seizing a lantern and. for
feiting his weakness, ran down be
neath the overarching steel to the pier
head. climbed up to the shoe, and
crawled out on the lower chord us rap
idly as he could.
Meade needed hut one glance to see
the deflection from the right line in
the iui|»>rtant menitier. For all his
years of inexperience he was a better
trained euglneer thim rough-and-ready
Abbott. What appeared to the latter
as a slight deflection. Meade saw in its
true relation. There was a variation
In the center of the member of an
Inch and a half at least, although un
nodceable to an untraiued eye. It had
all come in the lust week. They had
extended the sus|iended span far out
beyond the edge of the cantilever and.
with the heavy traveler at the end.
the downward pressure oil the great
lower chord met 11 hers had greatly In
creased.
It was a terribly heavy bridge nt
beat. It had to lie to sustain so long a
span the longest in the world. And
the load, continuous and increasing,
had brought about this, to the layman
trifling, to the engiueer mighty, bend. If
It bent that way under that much of a
load, a hat would It do when the whole
great span was completed and it had
to carry it* transitory loads of traffic
beside?
When two different views meet it is
natural that as*-, experience, reputn
tlon and authority shall carry the day.
Although Bertram Meade, Jr., had
never been persuaded in all particu
lars of the soundness of his father's
design, and <*ould not be persuaded,
that vast experience, that great repu
tation. that undoubted ability with its
long record of brilliant achievement
had at last silenced him. He had ac
cepted through loyalty that which he
could not accept In argument. Once
accepted, he acted accordingly, heart
ily seconding and carrying out the
wishes of the older and. as the world
would say. the abler man.
Tile thing that smote the engineer
hardest was that this weakness was
exactly v.hat he had foreseen aud
pointed out. It was the |M)sslbility of
the inability of this great member to
carry the stress that young Meade had
deduced by using the formula of
Schmidt-<'liemnitz. It was this {sunt,
and this point particularly, that he
bad dwelt upon with his father and
which they had argued to a finish. So
strongly had he been impressed with
the possible structural weakness of
this memlier that he hud put himself
on record in writing to his father. The
old wan had overborne him und now
the little curve, one und a half to one
and thre**-«4uarier Inches In sixty feet,
established the accuracy of his un
heeded contention. Vainly now he
wished he had not let the old habit of
off-ctlou und the little touch of awe
with which he regarded his father per
suade him against his reason.
He stopjied, feeling suddenly III, as
a very nervous high-strung imm may
feel under tho» sudden and unexpected
physical shock. He was weak still
from the tonsil itis. He leaned against
the diagonal at the end of C-10-K,
dinging to It tightly to keep from full
ing. Abhott, who had followed more
■lowly, stopped by him. somewhat sur
prised. somewhat amused, more Indig
nant than both.
“Abbott," said Meade fiercely as the
erecting engineer Joined him on the
pierhead. "If you put another pound of
load on that cantilever I will not be
answerable for the consequences."
“What do you mean?"
“That deflection is nearly two inches
deep now and every ounce or pound of
added weight you put upon It will make
it greater. Its limit will be reached
mighty soon. If it collapses—" he
threw up his hands—“the whole thing
Will go.”
“Yea. if it collapses, that's true,”
said Ahtsitt, “hut it won't."
“You're mad." said Meade, taking
unfortunately the wrong course with
the older man.
“Why. boy." said Abbott, “that bridge
will stand as long as creation. Look
kt It- That buckle doesn’t amount to
anything. It Is only In one truss any
way. The corresponding member In
the other truss l* perfect Lf- straight.”
“Abbott, for God's sake, hear me,”
pleaded Meade In desperation. “Draw
bock the traveler and put no more men
oa the bridge. Stop work until we can
got wool to—”
“Don't talk to me. boy. I know my
()W^nrli i tell you I can Jack it back.
That member'* big enough and strong
enough to bold up the world.”
“What are you going to Jack
against?” Meade asked, and for the
irst time a Uttle of Abbott's contempt
appeared In tbe younger man's voice.
Abbott reflected that there was aoth
•v JT1U1-I1 It la aald ha United t hv
ing firm enough to serve as a support
for jacks anil said rather grudgingly,
for it seemed like a concession to the
younger and junior engineer:
“Well, I can hook on to the opposite
truss and pull it back with turn
buckles.”
“That will damage the other truss
too much, Abbott,” Meade retorted
promptly. “It isn't possible.”
“Then I'll think up some other
scheme.” returned Abbott indifferently,
as if humoring the other. "We can’t
wait, we've got to hurry it along.
There's going to be no penalty against
us on account of me. I won't stop work
a minute," he explained patronizingly.
“There will be a bigger penalty if
you don't do what I say, and paid in
another way, in blood. And it will be
your fault."
Now both men were angry and in
their passion they confronted each
other more resolute and fierce than
ever.
“Look here." said Abbott, his fiery
temper suddenly breaking from his
control, “who are you anyway? You're
only a kid engineer. Your father ap
proved of the plan of this bridge. I
guess we can afford to bank on his
reputation rather than yours.”
“Well, he doesn’t know of this.”
“Nobody is on the bridge now, and
nobody is going to be on there until
tomorrow morning. Wire him if you
like. He'll wire Illingworth down at
Martlet and we’ll get word what to
do.”
“Y’ou won't put any men at work on
the bridge until—”
“Not until tomorrow morning," said
Abbott decisively, “if I don’t hear from '
He Stopped, Feeling Suddenly III.
souielMxly at Martlet tomorrow morn
ing the work goes on.”
“But if my father wires you—”
"I take orders from the Martlet com
pany and no one else,” was the short
answer with which Abbott turned away
in finality, so that the other realized
the Interview was over.
Meade wasted no more pleas on Ab
bott. As ill luck would have it some
thing had happened to the telephone
and telegraph wires between the city
and the camp. Meade dressed himself,
got a handcar, and was hurried to the
nearest tcwn on the railroad's main
line. From there he sent a telegram
and tried to get connection with New
York by telephone, but failed. Moved
by a natural impulse, in default of
other means of communication, he
jumped on the midnight train for New
York. He would go himself in person
and attend to the grave affair. Noth
ing whatever could be so important.
There had been some friction be
tween Abbott and Meade before on oc
casions, not serious, but several times
Meade had ventured to suggest some
thing which to Abbott seamed useless
and unnecessary, and the fact that
subsequent events had more often than
not proved Meade’s suggestions to be
worth while, had not put Abbott In al
together the best mood toward his
young colleague. Abbott never forgot
that Meade had really no official con
nection with the building of the bridge,
and that he was only there as a special
representative of his father, and al
though he could not help liking the
younger man, Abbott would have been
better pleased if he bad been left
alone.
Meade had not gone about It In the
right way to move a man of Abbott’s
temperament. He realized that as he
lay awake on the sleeper speeding to
New York. Abbott was a man who
could not be driven. He was a tre
mendous driver himself and naturally
he could not take his own medicine. If
Meade had received the announcement
more quietly and If he had by some
subtle suggestion put the idea of dan
ger Into Abbott’s mind all would have
been well, for when he was not blind
ed by prejudice, or his authority or his
ability questioned, Abbott was a sen
sible man thoroughly to be depended
unon. But the news had come to Meade
of Taiic TalflnA I *”
| with such suddenness, Abbott had only
I casually mentioned it at the close of a
' lengthy conversation regarding the
progress of the work as if it were a
matter of no special moment, that the
sudden shock had thrown Meade off
his balance.
Therefore he could see nothing but
danger and the necessity for action.
How he should handle his superior, or
rather the bridge's superior, was the
last tiling in his mind. Aside from his
natural pride in his father and in the
bridge and his fear that lives would be
lost if it failed, unless he could get
the men withdrawn, there was the
complication of his engagement to
Helen Illingworth.
Meade could not close his eyes, lie
could not sleep a moment on the train.
His mind was in a turmoil. Prayers
that he would get to his father and the
bridge people in time to stop work and
prevent loss of life, schemes for taking
up the deflection, strengthening the
member, and completing the bridge,
and fears that he would lose the wom
an. stayed with him through the night.
CHAPTER V.
The Death Message.
Meade, Sr., was an old man. Al
though unlike Moses his eye was dim
and his natural force abated, the evi
dences of power were still apparent,
especially to the-observant. There rose
the hroad brow of the thinker. His
power of intense concentration was ex
pressed outwardly by a directness of
gaze from the old eyes which, though
faded, could flash on occasion. Other
facial characteristics of that snow
crowned. leonine head, which bespoke
that imaginative power without which
a great engineer could not be in spite
of all his scientific exactitudes, had not
been cut out of his countenance by the
pruning knife of time.
lie was a great engineer and looked
It, sitting alone in his office with the
telegram crushed in his tlembling
hand, despite the fact that Ms gray
face was the very picture of unwonted
weakness, of impotency, and abiding
horror. The message had struck him a
terrific blow. He had reeled tfnder it
and had sunk down in the cheir in a
state of nervous collapse.
The telegram fairly burned the
clammy palm of his hand. He would
fain have dropped it yet he could not.
Slowly he opened it once more. Ordi
narily, powerful glasses stimulated his
vision. He needed nothing to read it
again. It Is doubtful whether his eyes
saw it or not and there was not need,
for the messuge was burned inio his
brain.
He read again the mysterious words;
One and three-quarter-inch camber In
C-10-R.
There could be no mistake. The
name that was signed to it was the
name of his son. the young engineer,
tlie child of his father's old age. The
boy, as the old man thought of him,
had ventured to dispute his fathtr's
figures, to question his father’s design,
but the elder man had overborne him
with his vast experience, his great ait
thority. his extensive learning, his high
reputation. And now the boy was right.
Strange to say some little thrill of
pride came to the old engineer at that
moment.
He tried to find out from the tele
gram when it had been sent. That day
was a holiday—the birthday of one of
the worthies of the republic—in sot te
of the United States, New York atrd
Pennsylvania among them, and only by
chance had he come down to the ottice
that morning. The wire was dated tin*
night before. And he recalled that the
state from which the bridge ran did
not observe that day as a holiday.
They would be working on the Interna
tional as usual unless—
One and three-quarter inches of de
flection ! No bridge that was ever made
could stand vith a bend like that in
the principal member of its compres
sion chord, much less so vast a struc
ture as that which was to span the
greatest of rivers and to bring nation
into touch with nation. He ought to
do something, but what was there to
do? Presently, doubtless, his mind
would clear. But on the instant ail he
could think of was the impending ruin.
Ihe Uplift building, in which hi had
his offices, was mainly deserted on ac
count of the holiday. The banks were
closed and the offices and most of the
shops and stores. It was very still in
the hall and. therefore, he heard dis
tinctly the door of the single elevator
in service open with an unusual crash,
then the sound of rapid footsteps along
the corridor as of someone running.
They stopped before the outer door of
the suite which bore his nume. In
stantly he suspected a messenger of
disaster. The door was opened, the of
fice was crossed, a hand was on the
inner door. He snnk back almost as
one dead waiting the shock, the blow.
“Futher,” exclaimed the newcomer.
“You got my telegram?"
The other silently exhibited the
crumpled paper in his hand.
“What have you done?”
“It’s a holiday, don’t you know? I
only got it a few moments ago. The
bridge?”
“Still stands.”
“But for how long?”
“I can’t say. The Martlet’s resident
engineer is mad. I begged, threatened,
implored. I tried to get Urn to stop
work, to take the men off the bridge,
to withdraw the traveler, but he won’t
do it Said you designed It, you knew.
I was only a cub.”
“But the camber?”
“He said, ‘I’ll Jack It Into line again.’
Like every other engineer who sees a
big thing before him it looks to him as
if it would last forever. I tried to get
you on the telephone hefe and at the
house last night and failed. I wired
you. Then I Jumped on the midnight
express and—”
“What is to be done?” asked the old
man.
Meade, Sr., was thankful thnt the
younger man had not said, “I told you
so,” us well he might. But really his
father’s condition was so pitiful that
the son had not the heart.
“Telegraph the Martlet Bridge com
pany at once,” he answered.
“What shall we say?” asked the old
man, uncertainly.
The young man shot a quick look at
him, that question evidenced the vio
lence of the shock. His father was
] old, broken, helpless, dependent, at
; last. . . .
“Give me the blank,” he answered,
“I’ll wire in your name.”
He repeated the telegram that he
: had sent to bis father and added these
; words as he signed the old man’s
name to it:
Put no more load on the bridge. With
draw men and traveler.
“I can’t understand why we don’t
hear,” said the young engineer two
hours later, walking up and down the
room in his agitation. “Two telegrams
and now we can’t get a telephone con
nection, or at least any answer after
our repeated calls.”
“It’s a holiday there as well as here,”
said the older man. “There is no one
in the office at Martlet.”
“I’ll try the telephone again. Some
one may come in at any time.”
He sat down at the desk, and after
five minutes of feverish and excited
waiting lie finally did get the office of
the Martlet Bridge company. By a
happy fortune it appeared that some
one happened to come into the office
just at that moment.
•"Ihis Is Meade, began the young
man, “the consulting engineer of the
International bridge. Well, at ten
thirty this morning I sent a telegram
to Colonel Illingworth and an hour
later I sent another. What’s that?
Both telegrams are on the desk? Give
me your name—Johnson—you're one
of the clerks there? Well, telephone
Colonel Illingworth at his home—
what! He isn’t at home? Is the vice
president there—the superintendent—
anybody? How fur away are they?
Twenty miles! There's no telephone?
Now, listen, Johnson, this is what you
must do. Get a car, the strongest and
fastest you can rent and the boldest
chauffeur, and a couple of men on
horses too. and send up to that place
wherever they are, and tell Colonel
Illingworth that he must telephone me
and come to his office at once. There
are telegrams there that mean life or
death and the safety of the bridge.
You understand? Good. He says he’ll
do it, father. -We’ve done all we
can,’’ he added. He hung up the re
ceiver, sprang to his feet, looked at
his watch. “It's so important that I’ll
go down there myself. I can catch the
two o’clock train, and that will get me
there In two hours. You stay quietly
here In the office and wait until I get
in touch with those people. I mean, I
want to know where I can reach you
Instantly.”
“I’ll stay right here, my boy. Go,
and God bless you."
As usual when in a great hurry
there were unexpected delays and the
clock on the tower above the big struc
tural shop was striking five when a
rickety station wagon, drawn by an ex
hausted horse, which had been driven
unsparingly, drew up before the office
door. Flinging the money at the driver,
Meade sprang down from his seat and
dashed up the steps. He threw open
the door end confronted Johnson.
“Did you get him?” he cried.
“He Isn't here yet. I sent an auto
mobile and two men on horseback
j and—”
The next minute the faint note of
an automobile horn sounded far down
the valley.
“I hope to God that is he," cried the
young engineer, running to the win
dow.
“That's the car I sent," said John
son. peering over his shoulder. “And
All He Could Think of Was the Im
pending Ruin.
there are people in it It’9 coming; this
way.”
“Johnson,” said Meade, “you have
acted well In this crisis and I will see
that the Bridge company remembers
It”
“Would you mind telling me what
the matter Is, Mr. Meade?"
“Matter! The International—"
“Bert” exclaimed a joyous voice, as
Helen Illingworth, smiling in delighted
surprise, stepped through the open
door and stood expectant with out
stretched hands.
Young Johnson was as discreet as he
was nrompt and ready. He walked tn
turn tnv w«» * wow.. •»»—-»
the window out of which he stared,
with his back ostentatiously turned to
ward them. After a quick glance at
, the other man, Meade swept the girl
to his heart and held her there a mo
ment. He did not kiss her before he
released her. The woman’s passionate
look at him was caress enough and his
own adoring glunce fairly enveloped
her with emotion. Johnson coughed
and turned as the two separated. It
was the woman who recovered her
poise quicker.
“What were you saying about our
bridge when I came into the room?”
she began, and Meade fully understood
the slight but unmistakable emphasis
in the pronoun—our bridge, indeed—“I
was lying down this afternoon, but
when I awakened my maid told me
about your urgent calls for father,”
she ran on, realizing that some trouble
portended an«i seeking to help her
lover by giving him time. “I knew
i'something must be wrong, so I came
here. I didn’t expect to see you. Oh,
what is it?” she broke off, suddenly
realizing from the mental strain in her
lover’s face, whirl* the sudden sight of
her had caused him to conceal for a
moment, that something terribly seri
Into the Room Burst Colonel lilington.
ous hud happened, and she turned a
little pale herself as she asked the
question, not dreaming what the an
swer would lp>.
“Helen,” said the young man, step
ping toward her and taking her hands
again, “we’re in awful trouble.”
“If it Is any trouble I can share,
Bert,” said the girl, flushing at him a
look which set his pulses bounding—at
least she was to be depended on—
“you know you can count on me.”
“I know I can,” he exclaimed grate
fully.
“Now tell me.”
“The International bridge is about to
fall.”
The color came to her face again.
Was that all? came Into her mind.
That was serious enough, of course,
but It would not matter In the long
run. Helen realized the awful gravity,
the terrible seriousness, of the situa
tion of course. The bridge meant much
to her even if in quite a different way.
It was there he had saved her from the
awful full. It was there that he had
told her that he loved her. The bridge
might fall, but it was ns eternal as her
affection in her memory. Their en
gagement, or their marriage, had been
made dependent upon the successful
completion of the bridge. What of
that? The proviso meant nothing to
her when she looked at the white-faced
agonized man to whom she had given
herself.
“It is terrible, of course,” she said
quietly. “But you can do nothing?”
“If I could, do you think I'd let the
bridge, and you, go without—”
“I'm not going with the bridge,” was
her quick and decisive interruption.
They had both forgotten the pres
ence of young Johnson, who was not
only decidedly uncomfortable, but des
perately anxious. He was about to
speak when, into this already broken
scene, came another interruption.
There was a rush of wheels on the
driveway outside, the roar of a motor.
Before Meade could nnswer the state
ment, into the room burst Colonel Il
lingworth. He was covered with dust,
his face was white, his eyes filled with
anxiety. The character of the sum
mons had disquieted him beyond meas
ure. Back of him came Severence, the
vice president, and Curtiss, the chief
engineer.
Bienne, wnat ot tne bridge? he
hurst out, with n quick nod to his
daughter. Colonel Illingworth had not
stopped to hunt for a wayside tele
phone. The automobile driven madly,
recklessly through the hills and over
the rough roads, had brought him di
rectly to the office in the shortest pos
sible time.
"There is a deflection one inch and
three-quarters deep in one of the com
pression members, C-10-R,” was the
prompt and terrible answer.
Colonel Illingworth had not been
president of the Martlet Bridge com
pany for so long without learning some
thing of practical construction. He
was easily enough of an engineer to
realize instantly what that statement
meant.
“When did you discover It?” he
snapped out.
“Last night.”
“Is the bridge gone?”
“Not yet.”
“Why didn't you let us know?”
“I telegraphed father and, not hear
■ ing from him, I came down on the mid
night train. It is a holiday In New York
as well as here. I Just happened to
meet father in the office. He sent a
telegram to you and not hearing from
you, duplicated it an hour later. I
tried half a dozen times to get you on
the telephone and Anally, by a happy
chance, got hold of young Johnson.”
“Where are your father’s tele
grams?”
“Here.”
Colonel Illingworth tore the first
open with trembling fingers.
“Why didn’t you tell Abbott?” asked
the chief engineer.
"You know Abbott. He said the
bridge would stand until the world
caved in. Said he could Jack the mem
ber Into line. He wouldn’t do a thing
except on direct orders from here”
HiiiiiiiaiMH
“Tour fnther wires, •put no more
weight on the bridge.’ What shall we
do?” interposed Colonel Illingworth.
“Telegraph Abbott at once.”
“If the bridge goes it means ruin to
the company,” said the agitated vice
president, who was the financial mem
ber of the firm and who could easily be
pardoned for a natural exaggeration
under the terrible circumstances.
“Tes, but if it goes with the men on,
it means—Johnson, are you a telegraph
operator?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Take the key,” fi;.- I the colonel,
who, having been a o, Idler, thought
first of the men.
Johuson sat down at the table where
the direct wire ran from the bridge
company to the telegraph otfice. He
reached his hand out and laid his
fingers on the key. Before he could
give the faintest pressure to the instru
ment, it suddenly clicked of its own
motion. Everybody in the room stood
silent.
“It is a message from Wilchings, the
chief of construction foreman of,”
Johnson paused a moment, listening to
the rapid click—“the International—■”
he said in an awestruck whisper.
It had come!
“Read it, man! Read it, for God’s
sake!” cried the chief engineer.
“The bridge is in the river,” faltered
Johnson slowly, word by word, trans
lating the fearful message on tiie wire.
“Abbott and one hundred and fifty men
with it.”
What happens after the crash
is told in the next installment.
What happens to the Meades
and Illingworths, and the vast
trouble stirred up, makes thrill
ing chapters.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
GOLD FROM FLOOR TO CEILING
Wonderful Accumulation of Yellow
Metal Stored in the Assay Office
at New York.
The New York assay office is now
the most important institution of the
kind in the world. There is more gold
stacked up in boxes and kegs, in bricks
and bars, in bins and bags, than ever
before in the history of the country.
The assay office, says the New York
World, is tlie purchasing agent for the
government. Foreign gold, consigned
to banks and trust companies, Is
"cashed in” through the nssay office.
British sovereigns, packed in boxes,
are piled as high as the ceiling. Dodg
ing that golden bulwark, the visitor is
likely to bump into the cases full of
French twenty francs that are piled on
the other side. Turning to reach the
elevator, he skirts a row of gold bars,
packed five ten-thousand-dollar bars
to the keg. in sawdust, and stretching
along the wall twice the height of a
man.
All gold, of whatever nature. Is melt
ed and refined to a fineness of 999.5,
or finer, and cast into bars of standard
sizes. The value of each bar is ex
pressed in United States dollars and
cents. Every bar and coin has to stand
the acid test.
There are 15 big melting pots at
work on gold exclusively. It seems al
most brutal to see the workmen scoop
shovelfuls of gold pieces from metal
boxes and dump them, one after an
other, into a pot until it is full, and
then clap on the lid and wait for them
to stew!
Waste Bark Replaces Rags.
A method of using waste hemlock
tan bark to replace partially expensive
rag stock In the manufacture of felt I
roofing has been developed at the for- ;
est products laboratory at Madison, !
is., nnd is now being used commer
cially by co-operating mills, according
to an announcement made by the for
est service. It is stated that in these
mills from 20 to 30 per cent of the
rags is being replaced by waste bark
and that the quality of the finished
product is equal to that manufactured
solely from rags. Members of the for
est service who have been conducting
the experiments say that the utiliza
tion of the bark will make it possible
to effect a considerable saving in the
manufacture of felt roofing.
Exploration of New Guinea.
A few years ago elaborate plans
were laid in Gerrnnny to explore the
hitherto Inaccessible interior of New
Guinea by means of balloons, which
were expected to drift over the Island
in the prevailing winds. The project
was much discussed in the magazines
and subscriptions were solicited in its
behalf, but it was never carried out.
It Is now reported in the newspapers
that Dr. Eric Mjorberg, a Swede, is
planning to make use of an airplane
to explore the interior of New Guinea,
and is In the United States investi
gating the latest improvements in
aviation.
Beware the Loaded Gun.
The man who returns from hunting
and sets his loaded gun In the corner
or hangs it on the wall Is, in reality,
setting a death-trap. Yet it Is surpris
ing how often this Is done. The gun
we “didn’t know was loaded,” is an
old, old story, says Farmer’s Guide.
You cannot be too cautious. The
loaded gun you may keep on the wall
to shoot crows with when they get In
the corn Is liable to cause you more
loss than a million crows can. It takes
only a second to put a cartridge in a
gun when the time is at hand. It
takes no longer to take it out.
Absurd.
“My husband has the queerest ideas
of economy.”
“Indeed?”
“Why, he actually seems to think I
could say* money by staying away
from bargain sales.”
High Cost of Art
“Many great composers died poor.”
“Yet they had their chance to econo
mize. Think of the money they saved
by being able to hear their own music
without paying 1”
Blossom Remains.
Bacon—“Crimsonbeak says his wif
keeps his nose to the grindstone.” Es
bert—“Well, it doesn't seem to wea
the red off of It”
In Order
to Maintain
Your Health
Watch —
and do not allow weakness
to develop in the stomach,
liver or bowels—
Should you require ass s
tance at any time—TRY
HOSTETTERS
Stomach Bitters
TO KILL RATS AND MICE
always use
Stearns’ Electric Paste
Full directions in 15 languages
Sold everywhere—25c and $1.00
U. S. GOVERNMENT BUTS IT
PATENTS
Watson E.Coleman,Wa.*£
ington. D C. Books free LI ga
est references. Best reeu.1*.
His Qualifications.
“A tailor ought to make a good
lover.”
“Why so?”
"He can always warmly and off' tu
ally press his suit.”
FALLING HAIR MEANS
DANDRUFF IS ACTIVE
Save Your Hair! Get a 25 Cent Bottle
of Danderine Right Now—Also
Stops Itching Scalp.
Thin, brittle, colorless and scraggy
hair is mute evidence of a nog!, ted
scalp; of dandruff—that awful scurf.
There is nothing so destructive to
the hair as dandruff. It robs the hair
of its luster. Its strength and its very
life; eventually producing a feverish
ness and itching of the scalp, which
If not remedied causes the hair roots
to shrink, loosen and die—then the
hair falls out fast. A little Danderine
tonight—now—any time—will surely
save your hair.
Get a 25 cent bottle of Knowlton's
Danderine from any store, and aft. r
the first application your hair will
take on that life, luster and luxuriate ••
which is so beautiful. It will become
wavy and fluffy and have the appear
ance of abundance; an incomparable
gloss _ and softness, but what _ will
please you most will be after Just a
few weeks' use, when you will actual
ly see a lot of fine, downy hair—new
hair—growing all over the scalp. Adv.
No News a Nuisance.
"No news is good news.”
“My wife says that doesn't apply to
society news.”
BOSCHEE’S GERMAN SYRUP
Why take ordinary cough remedies
when Boschee’s German Syrup has
been used for fifty-one years in a.l
towns in the United States, Canada.
Australia, and other countries, for
coughs, bronchitis, colds settled in the
throat, especially lung trouble. It
gives the patient a good night's rest,
free from coughing, with easy expec
toration in the morning, giving nature
a chance to soothe the inflamed parts,
throw off the disease, helping the pa
tient to regain his health, assisted by
pure air and sunshine when possible.
Trial size 25c, and 75c family size.
Sold In all towns in the United States.
Canada, Australia, and other coun
tries.—Adv.
“A mascot is not always a mascot.”
“That’s so, and a Jonah often ends
in a wail.”
Sunday School Teacher—Willie, who
was born in Bethlehem?
Willie—Charles M. Schwab.
“Glad to meet you,” Is what one man
usually says when introduced to an
other—but is he?
Differences.
Up to Date.
Keep
Just as well be
young at seventy
as old a! fifty.
Many people
past middle age
suffer lame, bent,
aching backhand
distressing uri
: nary disorders.
when a little
help for the kid
v neys would fir
i it aU up. Don’t
wait for gravel,
'dropsy or
. Bright's disease
' to get a start,
i Use Doan's Kid
= ney Pills. They
have helped
tnousanda, young and old. They are the
™°*t widely used remedy for bad backs
and weak kidneys in the whole world.
W. N. U., OMAHA, No. 15-1917.