' , The Long Green Gaze A Croat Word Puzzle Myatery By Vincent Fuller V--—__✓ It uni I mint from lr*t*fitii»t, "Kor lentinie* this god has sat them amidst lie that has formed I self Into the sacred symbols of our teliglon. Kor countless general Iona iis luminous green eyes have gas.ed out of the dark caverrt upon the snows of the Himalayas. It was that Image which waa violated.'’ nhopal paused, but fhalfonte did nut move. He sat leaning forward, his hands clenched. One ya»w," ohopal resumed, "we XT* 11 a guest In our house—your s-tther. We knew but little of out siders, and tve trusted him. He was there at the time of greatest heat, and as the young men returned one by one and were received with rejoic ings, he. asked about the pilgrimages, and nty father told hint all. The next year he returned with two others, and again nty father wel i nmed him and his friends. They re tn-iined unI it the last of the young men had returned, and then made their departure. Later we realised that they must have returned by night, skirted the village and made tlie ascent In the cavern of the god. "A tribesman reported strange tracks. My father, his suspicions aroused, gathered the men of the tribe about hbn and followed the tracks. In two days they caught up with the raiding party, and a battle followed. Since my people had no firearms, many of them were killed—but so was one in your father's party. Your father and the other man escaped, hut on the body of the, dead man w.is found one of the emeralds. The ciih«r, your father, must have carried with him. "The since eye was restored to the Image, but that year mv people knew famine, for the first lime. A good economist might possibly connect that with the coming of I he outside world. Tn my people it meant only that the g^#gnd was angry. The next year, even gieater famine scourged the land and Its people, and hundreds died. They tried then the experiment of taking the. lone emerald from the god’s face: and the next year the famine was not quite so great. Since that time, we have endured, but at great sacrifice. Kach year that the emerald ha* been returned, the famine lias been worse. Our wise men concluded that the god was angry at them for recovering only one of his eyes; and since that time, some people of the village have al ways been searching for the other emerald. "Marly in life. I was consecrated to this task by my father. Most of the 'oars of my life have been spent . ■ ~s In th® search. I was sent to England to he educated: but the education was only secondary to the recovery of the emerald eve. And always the leader of th*' search carries with him the re malning emerald. It Is a belief—smile at it if you will—that the one eye will spy about the other, as Indeed at last it has. m "The difficulty was that we thought your father wns an Englishman or Frenchman, and for the last few years the search has languished. I had re turned to India a few months before l met you, almost ready to give up the I search forever. Then you came. As I von know, you found our people un I friendly. Outsiders have been un welcome in our home of recent years, as you may well guess. But some thing in your far e attracted me. Then \ ou told me your name. You did rot notice its effect on me. Rut to m«> it meant the beginning of the end of the long search. "1 cannot, of course, after the edu cation t have received, believe In the efficacy of the god with the. simple faith of mv people. It is not my in tellect whic h in recent years has made me continue In the search, but the memory of my dying father’s charge to me, of the long years of childish belief, and the memory of the climb that made of me a man. And t can not >ct, for all tny recent knowledge, whoily shake off a naive belief that it was the god himself who led you back. True, I have not obtained the stone, but how can the Museum to which the stone is willed, receive stolen goods? Surely there is Justice somewhere in this land of yours/' ’That may he. Ghopal—I’m not sine. But first there* the job of find ing ihe slone itself. * "That is. true. But you must re member that 1. at least, will have the one emerald eye looking for the other. For surely they will return to me the stone I brought." Saying this, Ghopa 1 smiled, enigmatically, for the first time. "That was why you wanted to come along with me to America, was it?" "Of course, I knew that i he stone would he. probably, somewhere in | your family. How it came to he. im your aunt's possession, 1 don't wholly! understand yet." "That’s easy. My father and Emily j Dunseath were engaged to bo married at one time, but Emily broke it oft'.' It was then that my father went to India, and returned with the emerald. Emily was in love, apparently, with Alan Dunseath then: but my father tried to win her with the emerald. Emily was fascinated by it—she had always loved wealth and all that go^s with It. For a time she wavered be tween the two, between mv father and Alan Dunseath. and at last ac cepted my father again, and secured ihe emerald. Then my father woke up one morning to read that Alan Dunseath, ihe millionaire, had mar ried Emily the day before. In a rage, he wrote her. telling her to keep the ring, and calling down on her all man ner of c urses that he swore attended | the possession of ihe emerald by one who did not lawfully come by it. Thai seemed to have been true for him. at least. And now. I should say. 1t ha* proved true for Emily. Emily ignored ihe, whole, thing. She wasn’t affected by threats, and she had both the Dlinseath fortune and ihe emerald. A year later, Alan Dunseath died. But my father would have nothing to do with her any more. Five years later, though, he married Emily'* young sister—who was about as much like Emily as a blowing ore-hard is like this cell. And now—now 1 know what my father meant that time! Fhalfonte cried. "I remember wh;d it was he said to my mother, one time, when I wns half asleep. The had evidently been discussing the emerald, for my father mid- f can hear bis words exactly, bis very in tonation—suddenly it's as if be bad jii*t said It: 'There * another emerald like it. Rachel. In India, but I’m afraid 1 can't get it for you. There's just so much good luck comes to a man in Ills life, and I have you. I'm only j sorry 1 c an't get it .iwhv from her and restore it. She’d he a lot hap I pier without it.* And I see now, Mho. I pal, why you started so that night I Aunt Emily showed u.« the ring.' ' Yes, there, it was—the end of the ! *ear<*n It remained only to get it. ! I admit that 1 would have stolen It ! in order to get It—If one ran he said i to steal when he only recovers what lias been taken." "That much is straightened, ’hen. Ghopal. They can't keep you in here now." Fhalfonte told him. then, of the jeweler’* report. "It may take a little time, of course, but you’ll be out soon. I II have a lawyer down here tomorrow morning. T.ushington probably i*n‘f handle the *ase. hut lie'll he able to tell me a good man who ran." The turnkey met Fhalfonte Just "in side the door, which he had unlocked in answer to Fhalfonte.* pounding on it. Burke and Smith emerged from a room in the upper corridor. “ \ie you aatialied. now?" Fhalfonte c.xc la Imed t Humph a nt ly. "Hardly. . . . It's a queer tale but I have my doubts. I m going to talk to the jeweler. You ran come up. tf von want. I want a written stale merit from him before the Hindu gets out. He's upstairs now. I had him sent for." The offices wete quieter when thev reached them. The stenographers had left, and no business was being trans ected. Mr. Kunkle was wditing for them. "Look here, Mr Kunkle. Is this the straight dope you're handing us on this jewel? Sure you haven't made h mistake?" Mr. Kunkle drew himself up to his full height of five feet three ' Mr. Smith, I did not come here to be In suited. Mistakes are not made on jewels as valuable as that.'' "No offense, Mr. Kunkle. We Just ha v to he sure. Only I want an affidavit with all the facts, and I want as many expert names on It a you can get. Have to have It hefni e this chap cun be let out." "You shall have It In the mot nine. Is there anything else you want *c» ask of me?" "Guess not." "Then f have one suggestion to make: that in the future you do not ask me. to come f*“r here, merely I *» verify my word, flood evening." When Mr. Kunkle had gone, Fhal fonte asked permission in telephone, and Mhortlv had secured the name of r good lawyer but Marry Vernon, the lawyer Lushington had recommended, was out of town and would not be ha hopa I Hose has a good m**al will you? and anything he want*. Ami get himself into as decent a place ns. ihe building afford*. You can give nnv change theie is to the neediest man yon know. And heir -take tire rest of 1he»e c-lgais I never smoke 'em myself. I m going out and get dinner- In some place where theie are light* arid music " As be left the building, Fhalfonte elanced around. Me wm* being shad owed. "Well, that, shadow er is going to have an easy time tonight." lie said in himself, "f boi*e he has enough • a *h on him to pay for a good meal because. Homer Fhalfonte in polnn to ••at lonjr and heartily." t'l» He 1 imiiNiird lumarrow.* On the Atlantic •■Day by Day V -J By O. O. M”INTVRE. (An I he Atlantic. April 7.—This eve ning 1 watched the Olympic ride gal lantly through a squall. The sun was nut but ahead were low. lower ing clouds. We ploughed Into the dark through the curtain of slashing rain. Mountainous waves crashed and the wind shrieked. One wave 70 tret high hit the bridge. In 30 minutes we were In the sun shine again. Then the sun began to vani-h leaving the vague violet of ltie sea and the pansy dusk of the sky. Suddenly the west went black end stars blazed out against the vel vet plush of night. No wonder « e« aman never tires of the sea. I have been doing considerable ending aboord ship. Among the ^lemks T found interesting were • Stacey." "Thornes the lambkin.’’ • Gold," "Beggars of Rife" and Gama liel Bradford's Samuel Pepys." 1 commend them all. 1 also teed "White Right Nights" for the sec ond time and found it awful. On the voyage from Kurope, ow tug to the alteration in time as the ship proceeds westward, h i* neces snry to put watches back every 24 hours from 35 to 4 5 minutes. As l have, a new watch 1 fear to tinker with it and never know the time. 1 see no reason for knowing time on a ship anyway. It Is somewhat like the old jarn of the negro In jail calling out to another negro on the street: V. hat time Is It?" The pedestrian replied: "What difference does it make? 1 ou ain't goin’ anywhere.” The leading news In the dally giggle, or Ocean Times, today was %ftom Constantinople. It read: "The Angora assembly has approved of martial law In Kurdistan." Still each passpnger welcomes its daily visit, •there ts much good material In It reprinted from exchanges. I notice in it an advertisement of the Restaurant Marquery in Paris, which has a line reading: "A fea ture: A visit to the cellar." Th.it Is also a feature of almost any visit to a home in America. Ships stewards appear to have names different, from the average roan. Among those I recall In cross ing are Skilling, Tweedie, Right, A'ussie, Clout, Pedy and Waser. lo pverv ship smoking room one finds those tweedy looking habitual voyagers. They generally have mighty elgars In their mouths and magnums of champagne In lee pails beside them. They are maniacs of motion—never content to he In one spot for long. They seek no casual acquaintance. T sat next to one who was reading the Kcho de Parts. A ale ward evidently knew him from in her crossings end they talked. As he told of his travels, the world shrank to the size of a thin dime, ktrue last, they met he had been to stand* Iri the southern Pacific. New Zealand. Central Asia and Thibet. He was on his wav to New York. Two days there and then to Kan Fran cisco to embark for Japan He was of enormous build and heHvlly bronzed and drank glass after glass of champagne with gargantuan gulps. Then. loo. tlieie ts usually one of those amiable old gentlemen on every ship who seems to lake a, philan thropic Interest In the ship's manage inept, lie brags about the meals and ills sic dtiiess of tbi’ syip. lie 1* at ways d' wing people Into the fiiend |r circles In which be happens to be. The one on Ibis ship Is really h good smi. yet It Is a strange world, and I think most of the passengers look upon him as e trifle ridiculous and a i*h be wcie not so affable. 1 even Pud myself avoiding him. A Kcolsman parades the deck In kilt* and other regalia. Ills knee* rf^ere hair, lull T police he W'-ai a spala. That Is pci hatis Kcnlch thrift, for apsis do save the wear and tear on ■ hoe lores. (Copyright IR'i). “Distance Lends Enchantment.” By Ruhp Goldbrrs ___— ■ — --- I I — * ( l -SHE -STILL IS E'Je^Y'THlAJG -TO HE f ) „ W A SHRlME WHERE LO\3e ABI b£TS,)__ _ V (&, ^ Affr JL THOUGH -they took \ \ i Vaway her tom si l s y oet me \ \ 1 V, \ AkJtS HOR. our OF vl^ito.1 5> J [ HERE. BEFORE J l KILL THAT 1 —# i# "-x._.( °k7C VJdc ARE T. THAT CTAtb TO HAvJE iBOLoNJEV MAbAM fi>OPP J AOAlMi back with Lh=-c-^ aUT VAJHEM THEY" HEAR THS V/ER^f TAME HB^iswSs T 1 c6 \JO\ce OVJER MSTAMCE OMTH6 RACMO, FOLK -Ml THET GO VAJlLib AEbOOT IT ! 5oM6SJfrssJlL^ Jjffi THE NEBBS she said it with flowers. Dir'c"d forbySo1 He” _ .— — - — ■ — / < r=~ /CTZr X"" V A DOMT ICNOwS (yes - AMO lLLBuY^X ,, .rS f\ GOT thEmV /how \t Supped my\ a Sppwg coat amo a . vS^nrc^M oV70Q MN^ELr - \ memory-I've BEEM \ uat 1°° \ ^ uro^a S,' 'T 'S WE0DIM6 \ TUW^kjGOT\T FOR i YOO P«* BU.L # WHERE D YOU / AKIKIWEQSAPY TODAY \ AT LEAST A WEEvf ! \ YOO CAM REMEMBER , YGET Them / __n-WAS YouPS / you 60 DOwkitowm \ we uao avj ammw \Vromi ? / -too TMC Fiovr ^n { to morrow amo ERSAR^- madness ^^ vr aq\ WE vSfof ] buy a swell Gowm Jumps Right out of ( \ \ Srn Wo5u l TOR am AMMMERSARv/ YOUR MIND _ VTS OLLV PtUWj, \ \ Vt t lucr nur nr / VpftEStK1Z_-^ \ OMPlEASAMt f _> ,'TS OUST OME OF / ( TwtKjGS that lvUE / ,,«*<* 365 DAYS ! Y \ Oft W y'L vouR memory / it 3 ' fCopyrigiit, IP??, by Tii* P*ll Syndic*!*. Ibf.) ^ | oduVT/^larp I ID CATUrD R#«i*»«r*d see jiggs and maggie in full Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus DlxlMVjirNVJ Ul r 1 IlLlX U. S. Patent Office PAGE OF COLORS IN THE SUNDAY BEE ICoByriiht I9i.it I'M ^>ORR.X - MR.-a tiMtTH • BOT t NU'oT TAvKF. MX P1A.MO LCs^ON ALT TWO TOOA.X . >T't» MrA.R,l_X THA\ MOW - MX TFA.CHFr*, WILL f^r I 'FRU ■ »y Int l Ff»r.i»i Scwvirr. Ikc ^ j J L.tyjii Rninn right* j well mv d^rum'- m te/\che:r phomed that how WOI VOOIR. HEL COOUDVN T qet HELR.E LE'a'bOM OM THE UNTIL TOUR-THIRTT - rr} ^•10‘bT THAT MOW^f— 4 / ABIE THE AGENT OVERLOOKING THINGS. Pr»w» for TU Ommh* Bernby HerafafieM SET-tyr * THEV cue am Vj the top of car, too. I Since i uvje on> TILLIE, THE TOILER. ByWestorer i Oon't voamt To *it BorHEieto tili-ie . i'M v^R.y Busy preparing 3UR. OEFEMSE IN THCS * 5Q OCO CLAIM ( good hea^ws:i vou - HE'S J UIEL . HE'S THP AVuVul-i v MIC> f ATTO<5-Mey Pol?. J THt OPPOS'Wtf ‘S.tDfc iu this suit - TO HIM - 6ET ' ' RIOOF HIM ivlK' 3»u,C*c! W Barney Google and Spark Plug A LITTLE UNDERGROUND WORK. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Billy DcBeck / lET ME EXPLAIN SOME MORE Or / dvta\l« or Twk Bto St* pa\/ Home \ KA9E NeXT Vx)EEK,ttARNE7 • VOJ KNOW r*tK MC«S^ OCjTTA Xtt.p CctMf*, t>o«iN r - — -■* %