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Castoria is Dr. Samuel Pitcher's prescription for Infants
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. Castoria.
** Outorla Is an excellent medicine for chil
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Da. O. C. Osgood,
Lowell, Mass.
“ Castoria Is the best remedy for children of
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stead of the various quack nostrums whic* ■ are
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morphine, soothing syrup and other hurtful
agents down their throats, thereby sending
them to premature graves.”
Da. J. F. Kinchklos,
Conway, Ark.
Castoria,
" Castoria is so well adapted to children that
I recommend it as superior to any prescription
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H. A. Archer, SL D.,
Ill So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. T.
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favor upon it."
United Hospital and Dispensary,
Boston, Main
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We had chicken** a-plenty, and turkeys a-few.
And one old gray guinea of all things to
clack
A guinea's the clackiueM ever you knew;
She JUMt keeps on saying. “Come back!” and
“Come back!”
When l was a youngster and also a fool
They’re, generally speaking, all one, Snore's
the pity
J thought I’d quit farming and going to school
And go make my fortune awhile in the city.
Mother cried a good deal, and my father looked
glum.
Though lie gave me a sort of one sided con
sent.
Hot he said, “Recollect, we are always to hum.
You can fetch yourself back when you’re
money’s all spent..**
That doesn’t take long when your pocket book’s
thin.
The board was so high, it was most of it eaten.
Hoys seemed at a discount; 1 had to give in
That the old man was right, and the young
om* was beaten.
To myself, twas another concern, as you’ll
guess.
To go back to the farm and take up at the
school:
Though 1 knew it was true of me, nevertheless
1 shouldn’t enjoy being called a young fool.
Hut somehow or other 1 heard, or it seemed.
Above all the noise that old guinea hen’s
clack.
J couldn’t get clear of it; everywhere screamed
That guinea’s eternal “Como back I” and
‘Come hack!”
J footed it home, for my money was spent;
The grass was a picture, the sky was another.
And 1 sang to myself every step that I went,
“I’m uoing to mother! I’m going to mother!”
An the very first tiling that 1 heard at the gate
Was that silly old guinea lien’s clackety
clack.
And i hallooed. “Shut upl You are speaking
too late!
Why. can't von see, stupid, that 1 have come
back?”
-Margaret Vandegrift in Youth’s Companion.
THE HOLDROOM.
The night mail from Paris panted into
Calais Pier station only five minutes
late. The usual scrambling exodus of
passengers eager to get a snack at the
Onffet before the steamer was due to
start began almost tiefore the train had
stopped.
My employment is that of traveling
clerk to an express company, whose busi
ness it is to convey between Paris and
London valuables intrusted to it by cli
ents
1 was more than usually anxious that
night, because it was marked by the in
auguration of a new system. Hitherto
the valuables had been placed by one of
ns in the goldroom rented by our com
pany on the steamers. The room had
been carefully locked, and the property
had been left to take care of itself until
it got to Dover, where it was met by an
other official of the company, who was
provided with a duplicate key
The captains of the boats were also in
possession of keys in case it should be
necessary for the safety of the ship to
enter the goldroom.
These precautions, however, had
i proved insufficient. Although the locks
on the goldroom door were safety ones
of the most approved kind, impressions
in wax had been obtained, false keys had
been manufactured, and robberies had
been frequent—perpetrated, without
doubt, during the passage across the
channel bv a gang of expert thieves.
In consequence, an official was to ac
company in future every consignment
and keep watch and ward at the gold
room door
That night the consignment was of
small bulk, but of extraordinary value.
It consisted of two tin boxes, one of
which contained notes on the Bank of
France, sent to the Bank of England in
payment for a purchase of 500,000 sov
ereigns. the other box contained nego
tiable bonds, with coupons attached, of
the new Turkish loan—the property of
the largest financial house in the world.
The bonds were worth £250,000, so
that my total charge amounted to $3.
750.000.
Two of the company’s porters had ac
companied me from Paris to assist in
shipping the boxes. As 1 stood on the
platform watching my men haul the
boxes from the treasury van 1 was tapped
on the shoulder by one of the French de
tectives whose duty it is to keep an eye
on the boats.
‘You cross tonight under the new ar
rangement. Mr Dutton. 1 think.” he
whispered.
‘That is so,” 1 replied. ‘Have you
taken stock of my fellow passengers?"
‘Yes.” be said; “and I have not spotted
any suspicions characters so far. Ah!
stand aside there, mon ami; make way
for madame,” and the detective pulled
me gently back a step to allow a solemn
procession to pass along the platform to
the gangway of the steamer.
A couple of railway porters were car
rying a sick woman, by whose side
walked a tall maid. Two other porters
followed, wheeling a truck of unmistak
able feminine luggage.
The detective stepped quickly to the
side of the truck and read the address
painted in large white letters on one of
the packages.
"Mine, la Comtesse de Brune,” he said
as he rejoined me. “It is not a title with
which 1 am familiar. Mon cher, it might
be as well if you kept yourself acquaint
ed with that lady’s whereabouts on the
boat.'
“Whatl Have you cause for suspi
cion?*' I asked.
‘Not in the least. I did not recognize
either the grande dame or her maid.
Only when one comes across a title un
known to ns of the French police it
makes one cautions—that is all. my
friend. Bon voyage.”
The detective moved away, and I fol
lowed my men on board the boat, each
carrying one of the boxes. On the gang
way 1 met the captain, to whom I was
well known—jolly old Captain Temple.
“Hullo, my boy!” he said. “So you’re
going with us. That's good; you’ll re
lieve me from a lot of responsibility. I
got my new key for your precious new
lock from the agent today, but I’ve hit
on a better dodge than all the locks in
the world. Just come along with me.” |
Captain Temple led the way below.
1 followed with my men. The goldroom
was situated on the main deck in a lit-■
tie recess aft of the saloon.
It was about 10 feet square and was.
approached by a narrow passage 5 yards
l mg running out of the saloon, in which,
as we passed through, I noticed the in
valid lady and her attendant being ush
ered into a stateroom by the stewardess.
The stateroom was the nearest to the
goldroom passage—a fact which further
impressed upon me the hint given by the
detective.
The captain opened the door of the
goldroom with his key, and my men de
posited the boxes on the floor. Captain
Temple waited till I had dismissed them
and then stooped down in another cor
ner of the room and pulled at a small
tag of wire that protruded through a
hole.
When he had got enough wire to make
a fair sized loop, he carried over one of
the boxes, put the loop of wire around
it and turned to me with a smile.
“There, Dutton,” he said. “Now, if
any one touches that box I shall know it
up on the bridge as soon as you will in
the saloon there—sooner, if you don’t
happen to spot them going in.”
I complimented the skipper on his in
genuity. though 1 made the mental res
ervation that on occasions when I hap
pened to- be on duty his electric bell
would never be used. 1 did not mean to
take my eye off that passage during the
voyage
The captain put the other box on the
top of the one to which the wire was at
tached, and after a last look round we
locked the door, this time with my key,
to make sure that the new lock answered
satisfactorily to both of them.
It was a fine night, and the saloon was
nearly empty, most of the passengers
preferring the fresh air on deck. One
respectable old gentleman, evidently a
clergyman, was immersed in a book at
the table that ran down the center of the
saloon, but with these exceptions all the
occupants of the place were ladies, and
not many of them.
In my immediate vicinity only one
lady was sitting, and 1 paid very little
attention to her, all my thoughts being
concentrated on the goldroom door, with
just half a wink now and then toward
the invalid lady’s cabin.
But it soon came to my notice that the
lady near me was in trouble of some
kind. From nly position I could see her
without turning round, and 1 noticed
that she kept her head in her hands and
appeared to be shaken with suppressed
sobbing.
At length she raised her face and
looked at me. Her eyes were red with
weeping and there were tears on hei
cheeks. She was quite young and very
pretty—far too pretty to he traveling
alone. 1 thought.
There was a pleading expression in her
eyes as she looked at me which half sug
gested that she required some service at
my hands, though I quite made up my
mind not to grant it, whatever'it might
be, if it should take me from my post for
one single instant. Beauty in distress
was a decoy not altogether unknown in
the annals of crime, and, at the risk of
impoliteness, I would avoid all chance of
becoming a victim.
Hesitating and struggling with emo
tion, the girl opened her lips and essayed
to speak. The words seemed to come
with difficulty and were almost inau
dible.
“May 1 ask you to give me your atten
tion for a moment?” she stammered. “Be
lieve me, it is on a matter of great im
portance. ”
“1 am on duty here,” I answrered, "and
I cannot come over to you. You had
better come a little nearer.”
“It is about your duty I wish to speak,”
was her astounding reply as she moved
over and took a seat by my side. “You
are in charge of the goldroom, are you
not?”
“Yes.” 1 said shortly, not knowing
what to expect.
She paused for a moment and then
went on, speaking hurriedly in a wThis
per. “I wish to save my brother from
the perpetration of a great crime,” she
said. “He is the dupe of a wicked man
—of Red Jem. the notorious boat thief,
and his gang. There is a plot on foot to
steal the valuables from the goldroom
tonight. A thousand times better for
my brother to suffer punishment at the
hands of the law for a first unsuccessful
attempt than to become a hardened
criminal. Oh, sir, stop him in time and
be as merciful as your duty will permit.”
The young lady need have no appre
hension lest I should fail to stop the rob
bery, 1 said to myself. Then I asked
aloud. “Where is your brother, then?”
“In the goldroom at this moment,”
was the reply, which took my breath
away.
•‘Impossible!” I exclaimed. “I have
not moved from this spot since the gold
room door was locked.”
“My brother slipped into the passage
jnst after we started, while you were
looking at that cabin door. He was con
cealed under the saloon table. And you
do not know Red Jem, sir. He has mas
ter keys that will fit any lock.”
I was puzzled sorely. I felt as sure as
man could feel that no one could have
passed into the passage without my see
ing him. And, again, if there was some.
one in the goldroom tampering with the
boxes, how was it that the captain’s
boasted electric bell had not warned him
up on the bridge?
However, my duty was obvious. 1
must unlock the door and see for myself
if anything was wrong. I drew the key
from my pocket and approached the
door, followed by the weeping girl, who
now began to show signs of repenting
her confidence in me.
“He is only a lad, sir, only a lad.
Spare him if you can, and remember
that I. his sister, prevented the rob
bery.”
I put the key in the lock, and the heavy
door swung back, opening inward.
There was no light in the place beyond
what reached it from the saloon, and in
the dim corner I could see the boxes just
as we had left them. But there was no
robber.
I took a step forward to look behind
the door, in case perchance he was lurk
ing there, and then in a moment I knew
that I was done.
Lithe arms stole around my neck and
pressed a filthy plaster of some substance
over my month; several pairs of strong
hands gripped me from behind and cast
mo to the floor.
As 1 fell the door of the goldroom swung
to, and all was darkness.
But only for a second. A silent match
blazed up. and a caudle was lighted which
shone on strange company.
Kneeling on my chest and binding me
with a vigor which ill assorted with her
assumed character was the “sick count
ess,” wnuin 1 had seen carried on board.
Helping to hold mo down was the tall
maid who had walked by her side, while
covering i; • with tho shining barrel of a
revolver was tho girl who had induced
me to open the doors, a horrid grin on
her face In place of tears.
“There you are, friend Dutton,” said
the “countess,” who was no other than
Red Jem himself. “I think yon will do
now for the few minutes we shall require
you. What u pity it is that your people
have been so smart. You see that nice
new lock compelled us to get you to be
so obliging as to open the door for us.
Look alive with the pigments. Bill, and
get on with your makeup.”
I was half dazed with the snddenness
of the attack, but my senses were rapid
ly clearing, and I was beginning to ap
preciate the value of Captain Temple’s
electric tell. Whatever happened to me,
1 thought, the boxes would be all right
—the alarm would ring directly they
were touched.
I was soon to be undeceived. I was
held against the wall by the powerful
.hands of Red Jem, looking strangely
fantastic in his feminine dress.
The tall “maid” who had been ad
dressed as Bill rapidly divested herself
of her top clothing. Then my clothes
were taken from me, and Bill put them
: on, standing revealed at last in his prop
er character of a neatly built young man
i of about my own height
As soon as he was dressed in my clothes
ne took up an actor's paintbox and pro
ceeded to make sundry alterations in his
face. Bit by bit the likeness grew, till
in front of me stood a counterpart of
myself—a counterpart that my mother
might havo mistaken for the original.
I “Now, Mr. Dutton,” said Red Jem,
“you see our little game perhaps. My
friend Bill here will relieve you of your
duties and will see the bonds safely
asnore. Katie will take Bill’s place as a
much more appropriate maid and will
escort me—the sick Comtesse de Brune—
back to her cabin while the coast is clear
Neat, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said, “but what are you go
ing to do with me?”
“Ah, my dear friend,” he replied, with
a horrid grin on his painted face, “that
is the sad part of it. You have got to
die, Dutton. I’m sorry, but $3,000,000
is worth a man’s life. Bill, where’s that
knife? Nobody would be likely to hear
the pistol down here, hut it’s best to make
sure.”
My counterfeit drew a glittering dag
ger from the clothes he had removed
•and gave it to Red Jem.
There was hut one ehanco for me, and
that was to ring the electric bell. To
shout would bo to incur certain death,
and the odds were that in that out of the
way place, amid the rush of water and
the noise of the paddles, no one would
hear my cry.
I But how to get free in time!
“I suppose you will give me two min
utes to make my peace?” I said.
, “Oh, yes, if you think it wortli while
1 to prolong the agony,” said the thief
“Only be quick about it.”
“It may seem odd to you, but I havo
scruples about these matters,” I said.
“Would you object to loosing this strap
round my legs so that I can kneel? You
see it is impossible to escape with the
door locked and three of you here.”
“I’m the best natured fellow in the
world,” replied the bloodthirsty scoun
drel, and he stooped and unbuckled the
strap. “There, get to your prayers and
don’t be long about it. You can use
your precious bondboxes as a desk, if
you like."
In those last words he sealed liis own
fate and that of his companions.
Outwardly calm, but in reality trem
bling with excitement, I assumed a de
votional attitude in the comer of the [
goldroom, resting my elbows on the top
of the uppermost box. With my knees
I gently pushed the lower one so as to
! bring a strain on the wire.
Once, twice, thrice, I pressed it and
' then knelt down in prayer, which it is
very certain was not all make believe.
Red Jem and his companions were
whispering by the door, and from the
: scraps of conversation that reached me
I learned that my body was to be
I thrown overboard.
■ “Now. young man, time’s up,” said
the principal villain at length, advancing
to where I knelt, but ns he did so I knew
, that I was saved.
There was a hurried rush of many feet
outside, the door was thrown open, and
Captain Temple, pistol in hand and fol
, lowed by half a dozen men, burst in.
For a moment he was puzzled at the
likeness between me and the robber
known as Bill, but'he soon grasped the
situation. Red Jem and his gang will
. not trouble the Dover mailboats for
many a day, and I have since heard that
his wife—the Katie who so cleverly im
posed upon me in the saloon and after
ward held a pistol to my head—died in
prison.
After all, it was the captain’s inven
tion, and not my care of the goldroom
key which saved the company’s property,
and, what is not of so much importance,
the life of one of its servants.—Boston
Globe.
A Philosopher.
“Come, let’s cross the street,” said a
man to a friend with whom he was walk
ing. “I don’t want to meet that fellow
Spigett. I owe him.”
“Why are you so much afraid today?
You met him yesterday and shook hands
with him.”
“Yes. but it was different then.”
“Why so?”
"Because I had on old clothes yester
day, but I have on a new suit today, my
dear fellow,” affectionately taking his
friend’s arm. “Nothing can rival a suit
of new clothes in the matter of inviting
duns. If you owe a man, he thinks it is
your duty to wear sack cloth ami ashes
until you pay him.1’—Texas Siftings.
Children Crv Tor Pitcner s Castoria.
When Baby v. as sick, we gave her Castoria.
When she was a Child, she cried for C:"iorfar
When she became Miss, sho clung to Castoria,
When she had Children, sho gave them Castoria,
Cures Consumption, Coughs, Croup, Sore
Throat. Sold by all Druggists on a Guarantee.
I Fora Lame Side, Back or Chest Shiloh’s Porous
Plaster will give great satisfaction.—35 cents.
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Scientific American »
Agency for ^
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