at T mr mm m m m m tw m m mm m m m m m w m r mm i i mi mr m m ms mm -m. m a m m r w m m m m m mm mm .u r
j:; s;? -
ii "Tevr-r. if rrAS" uim i sji i i u inn i 1 1 r- m 3rz. l K.r3iiLi i m s wr iaa a n xfl .v i r r 11
iiHip i i i
and have a pat: Bryan, the bolshe- ing Squirrel you are admitted to Ci fc(o cS. "ygV' ' p? iff 7 S. I ill
vik, the mule, the educated bug, and The Nest. This Nest is very ex- tL f CONTENT P 4U'i L JKk ys& I It I
old GIee- elusive. It takes five days and a fiBS! rSl J rt "VA I 1 1 I
Now a Member. nrivate tutor to even learn the Dass- Pr-A IV5j f gS?! d&v"- V&fSZSS. 1 It L.
word. Of course nothing further tCZJ I VlJ C""-"s rSK-t. SL) i-7J
can be said of this, degree here. It 3wiv tfN) TursT V 4zLl' VI S-. gV
may be mentioned, however, that fnK mmwmt v-- J&X All hJ3
many very prominent men of Oma- ill 'Tjjlfi I J J v. tVjf rK
ha are Brother Flying Squirrels 1 SHt XZl AA v A "x& , Htifo
IS
the Omaha Sunday jbeb
OMAHA, SUNDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 17, 1918.
By-Robert 3 HortotiSW
By ROBERT J. HORTON.
.Get out the squirrel nets!
- Jhls tells how to be a nut. I
mean this tells how to be an artist
or afcartoonist.
No, all cartoonists are not t.uts.
But then, all nu.ts are not cartoon
ists. I'm merely taking Doane
Powell's-idea and letting my hand
follow the-typewriterl
."" Light your pipe and let your hand
follow the pen.
Simple; isn't it?
vt It is best, however, to start on
'simple objects, such as W. J. Bryan
Or the Russian bolshevik. Can you
pick 'em out on this page? Yes,
that's him with the cigar in his
mouth. And the one with the whisk
ers is the other one. The cigar is
there for camouflage and perhaps
the whiskers are too. Would all
those Soviets look so fierce if they
had a haircut and shave? Many a
low forehead hides behind a big
crop of hair. I
ihe Bolshevik has it all over
Bryan for hair hut W. J. can spring
that old one and tell him his head
is a cover for his brains and not a
loafing place for hairs.
So far, so good. '
; ' Some Draw.
' Now you've drawn Bryan and a
-bolshevik. That's a hard" pair to
.draw to, but let's see.
You're entitled to at least three.
All right, there's the mule see him
in the lower left-hand corner above
the newsboy? That's one.
7, Then there's the educated bug di
rectly opposite, on the right-hand
aide, That's two.
And Glee almost in the center.
You know old Glee. He's the one
that cracks the joke about the Irish
man and the Jew in the poolroom
every ? afternoon when he gets
through work in the store. You
'member? Same smart young fel
low who tied the tin can to the tail
of the dog in the upper left. Some
smart guy. That's three.
Now you've drawn to your hand
You winl You are now a member
of the Loyal Order of Squirrels.
The L. O. S. meets every Satur
day night at but the place of
meeting cannot be given to the pub
lic because the police have been
looking for it for a long time.
L. O. S. stands for Love Order
Service. Practice the first, if you
can; try to preserve the second, but
absolutely insist upon the third.
The official emblem of the order
is the Hazelnut.
This, however, does not mean that
there is a ladies' auxiliary. The
Loyal Order of Squirrels is for men
only.
The official flower of the order is
the Cornflower. (The order has a
tremendous membership in the wet
states.)
Here's the Countersign.
The countersign: "Are you a loyal
nut?"
For answer the brother should
work the fifst two fingers of his
right hand like a nut cracker.
-There are three degrees in the
Loyal Order of Squirrels: Ground,
Tree and Flying.
Taking the first degree is so sim
ple it is almost idiotic. Almost any
body can become a Brother Ground
Squirrel. The second degree, how
ever, is more complicated. Brother
Tree Squirrels are not so plentiful.
This also is a very beautiful degree
to see worked. The oath adminis
tered by the GRAND IMPERIAL
SOVEREIGN KEEPER OF THE
TREE is extraordinarily inspiring.
But it is in the third degree than
the pinnacle of Squirrelasony is
reached. Brother Flying Squirrels
are scarce. They are wise as owls.
They see even better in the dark
than in daylight. To become a
Brother Flying Squirrel requires a
great deal of practice.
When you become a Brother Fly-
Unlike any other order the L.
S. has no distress signal.
If a brother is in distress he re
ports to the distress committee. He
then automatically becomes a mem
ber of that committee, this com
mittee has full jurisdiction to attend
to all distress cases. Thus broth-!
ers who are in distress are kept
from annoying brothers who are
not in distress. If there is anything
a Brother Squirrel hates it is to be
annoyed.
The people in the cartopn above
are all Squirrels except the animals
and the lady. The animals are put
in to make it harder and the lady-
But no loyal Brother Squirrel will
talk about the ladies.
That's one reason why the order
is such a grand success!
Omaha Soldier Writes Poem
in Camp Funston Paper
Trench and Camp, published by
the soldiers at Camp Funston, con
tains the following from the pen
(or trusty mill) of Private Russell
Phelps of the personnel office in its
sporting columns. Before donning
khaki Phelps was city editor of The
Bee and "covered" turf events when
Omaha was a member of the Great
Western circuit. '
We would judge from the tone of
hia contribution that one of the fa
vored indoor sports at Funston is
flipping the pasteboards in the great
-American pastime.
IT HAPPENED IX 4. .
Kid Secrist peered beneath hlf King,
another King he spied.
Ambition kindled In his breast, he looked
around and elghed. ',
Across the board the other Dudea were ;
looking In the "Hole," J
A few "kicked In," a few kicked out, de-'
feated at the pole.
The lad who led the betting bet fifty on
his ace,
And Secrist deftly flipped a coin and
smiled behind his face.
"It'a soft, Oh my, how soft," ha thought,
with pity on his mug.
As be hiked the pot two dollars to the
boy who had the bug.
By pow the others all had quit, though
. one did not refrain
To tell the world In accents wild 'twas
, clearly not their game.
The betting jumped by leaps and bounds,
and Secrist skinned a card
It was a deuce, but wily Bill remarked
without regard:
'Til raise you ten, your ace ts ma Is
bluster purs and simple,"
And winked at Red, who stuck around
a-plcklng at a pimple.
Tha man who boasted of the aca Just
scratched his empty dome,
While Secrist rolled another pill, and
thought: "You poor old bone."
Tha fifth card finally hit 'em both, and
neither one had helped,
"What's this delay, let's deal again." the
other players yelped.
Tha deawas drawing to a close, tha pot
was nearly made,
XmC
The ace-hlgh hand Just checked tha bet,
but Secrist promptly laid v
Another X upon the board and fingered
with his roll
As If his dad had lately sold a million
tons of coal.
Tha air was thick with, Camel's fumes,
tha silence thick as night.
Our ace-hlgh man then told the boys he'd
play what was In sight;
Ha kited BUI, and William called, then
aeveral anxious faces
Saw Secrlst's pair laid low as dust the
other man had aces.
Nautically Speaking
By J. D. K.
He clipped coupons from his Liberty bonds,
His manner was gay and chipper;
He heaped them high In a corpulent pile,
For he was a speedy clipper.
"It's great," he said, and he laughed with
glee,
"When you have to buy egga and butter,
If you can be," and he chuckled again,
"A government revenue cutter."
(me SHhati
dotlQ.Ci QK&OTti
CA.T41P fiasajanm&fl urn mmmsssmmmWimmmmm
WAD SWORTH
Ua4BTUW,liIWJIlpUJfJWJk'l.t
CHAPTER I.
Katherin Hears the Sly Step of
Death."
' The night of his grandfather's
mysterious death at the Cedars,
Bobby Blackburn was, at least until
midnight, in New York. He was
held-there by the unhealthy habits
and companionships which recently
had angered his grandfather to the
point of threatening a disciplinary
change in his will. A a consequence
he drifted into that strange adven
ture, which later was to surround
him with dark shadows and over
whelming doubts.
Before following Bobby through
his bjack experience, however, it is
better to know what happened at
"the Cedars where his cousin, Kather
ine lerrine was, except for the ser
vants, alone with old Silas Black
bum who seemed apprehensive of
some Sly approach of disaster.
At 20 Katnerine was too young,
too light hearted for this care of
her unclp in which she had persisted
as an antidote for Bobby's short
comings. She was never in har
mony with the mouldy house or its
surroundings, bleak, deserted, un
friendly W content.
' Bobby and she had frequently
urged the old man to give it up, to
move, as it were. into the light. He
had always answered angrily that
his ancestors, had lived there since
before the revolution, and that what
had been good enough for them was
good enough for him. So that night
Katherine had to hear alone the sly
n stalking of death in the house. She
told it all to Bobby the next day
what happened, her emotions, the
impression made on her by the peo
ple who came when it was too late
to save Silas Blackburn.
She said, then, that the old man
had behaved oddly for several days,
as if he was afraid. That night he
ate practically no dinner. He
couldn't keep still. He wandered
from room to roorrT, his tired eyes
apparently seeking. Several times
she spoke to him.
I'What is the matter, uncle? What
worries you?"
He grumbled untiltelligibly or
failed to answer at all.
She went into the library and tried
to read, but the late fall wind swirled
mournfully about the house and
beat down the chimney, causing the
fire to cast disturbing shadows across
the walls. Her loneliness and her
f-Tiervousness, grew sharper. The
restless, stiumine tootsteps stimu
lated her imagination. Perhaps a
mental breakdown was responsiDie
for this alteration. She was tempted
to ring for Jenkins, the butler, to
share her vigil; or for one of the
two women servants, now far at tne
back of the house.
: "And Bobby," she said to herself,
"or somebody will have to come out
here tomorrow to help." y
s But Silar -Blackburn " shtffBed in
jult then, and she was a trifle
ashamed as the studied him standing
with his back to the fire, glaring
around the room, fumblinor with
hands that shook in his pocket for
nis pipe ana some loose tobacco.
It was liniust to be afraid nf him.
There was no question. The man
himself was afraid terriby afraid.
His fingers trembled so much that
he had difficulty lighting his pipe.
His heavy brows, gray like his
beard, contracted in a frown. His
voice quavered unexpectedly. ! rie
spoke of his grandson:
"Bobbv! Damned wasterl Grid
knows what he'll do next."
He s voune. Uncle Silas, and ton
popular."
He brushed aside her customary
defense. As he coptinued speaking
she noticed that always his voice
shook as his fingers shook, as his
stooped shoulders jerked spasmod
ically. "I ordered Mr. Robert here to
night. Not a word from him. I'd
made up my mind anyway. My
lawyer's coming in the morning.
My money goes ,to the Bedford
Foundation all except a little an
nuity for you Katy. It's hard on
you, but I've got no faith left in
my flesh and blood."
- His voice choked with a sentiment
a little repulsive in view of his
ruthless nature, his unbending ego
tism. "It's sad, Katy, to grow old with
nobody caring for you except to
covet your money."
She aroje and went close to him.
He drew back, startled.
"You're not fair, uncle."
With an unexpected movement,
nearly savage, he pushed her aside
and started for the door.
"Uncle!" she cried. "Tell me I Yo
must tell me I What makes you
afraid?"
He turned at the door. He didn't
answer. She laughed feverishly.
"It it's not Bobby you're afraid
of?"
"You and Bobby," he grumbled
"are thicker than thieves."
She shook her head.
u "Bobby and I," she said wistfully,
"aren't very good friends, largely
because of this life he's leading."
He went on out of the room,
mumbling again incoherently.
She resumed her vigil, unable to
read because of her misgivings,
staring at the fire, starting at a
harsher gust of wind or any unac
customed sound. And for a long
time there beat against her brain
the shuffling, searching tread of her
uncle. Its cessfiotr about ll o'clock
increased her Uneasiness. He had
been so afraid! Suppose already
the thing he had feared had over
taken him? She listened intently.
Even then she seemed to sense the
soundless footsteps of disaster
straying in the decayed house, and
searching, too. v
A morbid desire to satisfy herself
that her uncle's silence meant noth
ing evil drove her upstairs. She
stood in the square mam hall st the
head of the stairs listening. Her
uncle's bedroom door lay straight
ahead. To her right and left nar
row corridors led to the wings. Her
room and Bobby's and a spare room
were in the right-hand wing. The
opposite corridor was seldom used,
for the left-hand wing was the oldest
portion of the house, and in the
march of years too many legends
had gathered about it. The large
bedroom was theTe with its private
hall beyond, and a narrow, enclosed
staircase, descending to the library.
Originally it had been the custom
for the head of the family to use
that room. Its ancient furniture
still faded within stained walls. For
many years no one had slept in it,
because it had sheltered too much
suffering, because it had witnessed
the reluctant spiritual departure of
too many Blackburns.
Katherine shrank a little from the
black entrance of the corridor, but
her anxiety centered on the door
ahead. She was about to call ywhen
a stirring beyond it momentarily
reassured her.
The door opened and her uncle
stepped out. He 1 wore an untidy
dressing-gown. His hair was dis
ordered. His face appeared grayer
and more haggard than it had down
stairs. A lighted candle shook in
hi richt tianH
"Tru J: .. i
vviidt aic juu uuiug up nerc,
Katy?" he quavered.
She broke down before the pic
ture of his increased fear. He
shuffled closer.
"What you crying for, Katy?"
She controlled herself. She begged
him for an answer to her doubts.
"You make me afraid."
He laughed scornfully. M
"You! What you got to be afraid
of?"
"I'm afraid because you are," she
urged. "You've got to tell me.
I'm all alone. I can't stand it. What
are you afraid of?"
He didn't answer. He shuffled on
toward the. disused wing. Her hand
tightened on the banister.
"Where are you going?" she
whispered.
He turned at the entrance to the
corridor.
"I am going to the old bedroom."
"Why? Why?" she asked hyster
ically. "You can't sleep there. The
bed isn't even made."
He lowered his voice to a hoarse
whisper:
"Don't you mention I've gone
there. If you want to know, I am
afraid. I'm afraid to sleep in my
own room any longer."
She nodded. ,
"And you don't thinl they'd, look
for you there. What is i.t? Tell
me what it is. Why don't you send
for some one a man?"
"Leave me alone," he mumbled.
"Nothing for you to be worried
about, except Bobby."
"Yes,' there is," she cried. "Yes,
there is."
He paid no attention to her fright
He entered the corridor. She heard
him shuffling between the narrow
walls. She saw his candle disappear
in its gloomy reaches.
She ran to her own room and
locked the door. She hurried to the
window and leaned out, her body
shaking, her teeth chattering as if
from a sudden chill. The quiet, as
sured tread of .disaster came nearer.
The two wings, stretchingvat right
angles from the main building,
formed a narrow court. Clouds
harrying the moon failed quite to
destroy its power, so that she could
see, across the court, the facade of
the old wing and the two windows
of the large room through whose
curtains a spectral glow was dif
fused. She heard one of the win
dows opened with a grating noise.
The court was a sounding board.
It carried to her even the shuffling
of the old man's.Jeet as he must
have aproached the bed. The glow
of his candle vanished. She heard
a rustling .as if he had stretched
himself on the bed, a sound like a
long drawn sigh.
She tried to tell herself there was
no danger that these peculiar ac
tions sprang from the old man's
fancy but the house, her surround
ings, her loneliness, contradicted her.
To her over-acute senses the
thought of Blackburn in that room,
so often consecrated to the formula
of death, suggested a special and
unaccountable menace. Under such
a strain the supernatural assumed
vague and singular shapes.
She slept for only a little while.
Then she lay awake listening with
a growing expectancy for some mes
sage to slip across the court. The
moon had ceased struggling. The
wind cried. The baying of a dog
echoed mournfully from a great dis
tance. It was like a remote alarm
bell which vibrates too perfectly,
whose resonance is too prolonged.
She sat upright. She sprang from
the bed and, her heart beating in
sufferably, felt her way to the win
dow. From the wing opposite the
message had come a soft, shrouded
sound, another long-drawn sigh.
She tried to call across the court.
At first no response came from her
tight throat. When it did at last,
her voice was unfamiliar in her own
ears, the voice of one who has to
know a thing but shrinks from
asking.
"Uncle!"
The wind mocked her.
"It is nothing," she told herself,,
"nothing."
But her vigil had been too long,
Hier lonliness too complete. Her
earlier impression of the presence of
death in the decaying house tight
ened its hold. She had to assure
herself that Silas 'Blackburn slept
untroubled. The thing she had heard
was peculiar, and he hadn't
answered across the court. The
dark, empty corridors at first were
an impassable barrier, but while she
put on her slippers and her dressing
gown she strengthened her courage.
There was a bell rope in the upper
hall. She might get Jenkins.
When she stood in the main hall
she hesitated. It would probably
be a long time, provided he heard
at all, before Jenkins could answer
her. Her candle outlined the en
trance to the musty corridor. Just a
few running steps down there, a
quick rap at the door, and, perhaps
in an instant her uncle's voice, and
the blessed power to return to her
room and sleep 1
While her fear grew she called
on her pride to let her accomplish
that brief, abhorrent journey.
Then for the first time a different
doubt came toiher. As she waited
alone in this disturbing, nocturnal
intimacy of an old house, she shrank
from no thought of human intrusion,
and she wondered if her uncle had
been afraid of that, too. of the sort
of thing that might lurk in the
ancient wine with its recollections
of birth and suffering and death.
Hut he had gone there as an escape.
Surely he had been afraid of men.
It shamed her that, in spite of that,
her fear defined itself ever more
clearly as something indefinable.
"With a passionate determination to
strangle such thoughts she held her
breath. She tried to close her mind.
She entered the corridor. She ran
its length. She knocked at the
locked door of the old bedroom.
She shrank at the echoes rattled
from the dingy walls where her
candle cast strange reflections.
There was no other answer. A sense
of an intolerable companionship
made her want to cry out for bril
liant light, for help. She screamed,
"Uncle Silas! Uncle Silas!"
Through the silence that crushed
her voice she became aware finally
of the accomplishment of its mis
sion by death in this house. And she
fled into the main hall. She jerked
at the bell rope. The contact
steadied her, stimulated her to
reason. One slender hope remained.
The oppressive bedroom might have
driven Silas Blackburn through the
private hall and down the enclosed
lounge in the' library.
She stumbled down, hoping to
meet Jenkins. She crossed the hall
and the dining room and entered the
library. She bent over the lounge.
It was empty. Her candle was re
flected in the face of the clock on
the mantel. Its hands pointed to
half-past two. '
She pulled at the bell cord by the
fireplace. Why didnt the butler
come? Alone she ' couldn't climb
the enclosed staircase to try the
other door. It seemed impossible
to her that she should wait another
instant alone , ,
The butler, as old and as gray as
Silas Blackburn, faltered in. He
started back when he saw her.
"My God, Miss Katherine!
What's the matter? Yon look like
death."
".There's death," the said,
She indicated the door of the en
closed staircase. She led' the way
with the candle. The panelled, nar
row hall was empty. That door, too,
was locked, and the key, she knew,
must be on the inside.
"Who who is it?" Jenkins asked.
"Who would be in that rom? Has
Mr. Bobby come back"
She descended to the library be
fore answering. She put the candle
down and spread her hands.
"It's happened, Jenkins what
ever he feared."
"Not Mr. Silas?"
"We have to break in," she said
with a shiver. "Get a hammer, a
chisel, whatever is necessary."
"But if there's anything wrong,"
the butler objected, "if anybody's
been there, the other door must be
open."
She shook her head. Those two
first of all faced tha extraordinary
puzzle. Hod had the murderer en
tered and left the room with both
doors locked on the inside, with the
windows too high for use? They
went to the upper story. She urge!
the butler into the sombre corridor.
"We have to know," she whis
pered, "what's happened beyond
those locked doors."
She still vibrated to the feeling
of uncomfortable forces in the old
house. Jenkins, she saw, responded
to the same superstitious misgiv
ings. He inserted the chisel with
maladroit hands. He forced the
lock back and opened the door. Dust
arose from the long disused room,
flecking the yellow, candle flame.
They hesitated on the threshold.
They forced themselves to enter.
Then they looked at each other and
smiled with relief, for Silas Black
burn, in his dressing gown, lay on
the bed, his placid, unmarked fce
upturned, as if sleeping. '
"Why, miss," Jenkins gasped.
"He's all right."
, Almost -vith confidence Katherine
walked to the bed.
"Uncle Silas" she began, and
touched his hand.
She drew back until the wall sup
ported her. Jenkins must have read
everything in her face, for he whim
pered: "But he looks all right. He can't
be-"
"Cold already! If I hadn't
touched"
The horror of the thing descended
upon her, stifling thought. Auto
matically she left the room and told
Jenkins what to do. After he had
telephoned police headquarters in
the county seat and had summoned
Doctor Groom, a country physician,
she sat without words, huddled over
the library fire.
The detective, a competent man
named Howells, and Doctor Groom
arrived at about the same time.
The detective made Katherine ac
company them upstairs while he
questioned her. In the absence of
"Well, did ye celebrate?" asked
Hank as he mounted the scaffold at
9:22 the morning after "peace day."
"Not wisely, but too welll" quoted
Bill as he set his tin watch ahead
10 minutes to remove any doubts
about being late to lunch.
"The bootleggers must have made
a fortune yistiddy," observed Hank,
making three false starts to get
hold of his paint brush.
"I'll say they did," agreed Bill.
"I'll say they did. It went up lialf
a dollar a pint every hour from
noon on!"
"Say, Bill, what would you do
with the ex-kaiser if you had the
chancet?"
Bill bit bis lip savagely as he
showered a brushful of paint on
the pedestrians below.
"Well, I ain't got much use for
the Chinese except for their low
laundry prices but I think they got
the kind of medicine the kaiser's csae
calls for. I'd string him up by his
wrists to a telephone pole, take his
shoes off and have somebody tickle
his feet with a feather."
"Well, you'd have his feet tied
so he couldn't wiggle 'em, wouldn't
yah?"
"Sure I'd have 'em tied; sure I'd
have 'em tied. That's the big part
of the torture having 'em tied so
he can't wiggle 'em."
'That ain't a half-bad idear,"
Hank reflected. 'The chinks heve
another good slow way of killin'.
We could take off his hat and have a
drop of water fall right in the center
of his head one drop, say, every
minute.
"Naw, that's too long a interval.
One drop every 10 seconds."
"I don't think thet leaves enough
time between drops," Hank per
sisted. "We don't want much time. The
feather's going all the time, ain't
it?"
"Sure the feather's goin' all the
time, but -he's got to have time to
think about them drops before they
come. That makes 'em hit like a
sledge hammer." J
"An' while the feather's going and
the drops are hitting him like a
sledge hammer we could have a
coupla guys touch 'irning matchei
to his ears," Bill was enthusiastic.
But he had nothing on Hank
"And say, Bill, you know that den
tist that 'tended the kaiser's teeth
so long? Well, we could have him
there drilling in aroun' the nerves;
close to 'em, you know, so he :ould
stick his drill into the nerves every
now and then between drops."
'And the barber," shouted Bill.
"The barber that Fung Lardner
wrote about. We could have him
there pulling out the kaiser's mus
tache, hair by hair eh Hank? One
hair at a time, eh?"
They screeched with joy and then
Hank almost fell off the scaffold.
They worked industriously for
five full minutes while the boss
passed.
"Do you know, I believe there's
something in this Ouija board busi
ness," remarked Bill, as he filled
and lit his pipe.
"Why so? I think it's just a kid's
fool game," said Hank, cutting of!
a big hunk from a juicy black plug.
"Well, I been a little suspicious oi
the ole man up to my place. Seems
to me he's been gitting quite a hunk
of my wages ever' week from the
wife. An' his breath smells mighty
powerful most of the time of some,
thing stronger than raisin wine. So
the wife had the Ouija .board out
last night trying to get a message
from the front and I says: 'If you
think that's O. K. I'll give you a
test fer it.' She says:,'Go ahead.1
I had her dip its legs in black ink.
We put our hands on it and I closed
my eyes and says: 'Go thou Ouija
board to any place or places where
the ole man may have whisky hid.' "
With this Bill became silent.
"Well, what happened; what hap
pened?" pressed Hank.
"What happened? I got about
$200 worth of carpets to buy, that's
all."
"But how's that; how's that?"
"How's that? Why the condemn
thing tracked up the hull house!"
Dab dab dab d-a-a
"Whupl Hold on, Bill, we got just
time to get a drink of water before
noon."
IWOKlL It Q
By Baron Munchausen.
(Special Correspondent of The Dally News
In Europe.)
Berlin, Nov. 11. (Via Ouija
Board.) I was at Spa when the
armistice terms were signed. Other
correspondents were strictly exclud
ed from Great Headquarters. As I
was approaching the door of the
building, I met the kaiser. I had
known him during the maneuvers of
1914. He greeted me cordially.
"Why, wie gehts, Munchausen?"
he exclaimed and gave me a hearty
handclasp. "This is a schrecklich
keit," (frightfulness) he exclaimed,
referring to the condition of himself
and Germany.
"But what else could you look for,
majesty?" I said.
"Munchausen, what do you advise
me to do?" he asked. "What does
the Omaha Daily News, your paper,
think I should do?"
"Abdication, majesty, is the only
solution," I told him bluntly.
His face fell and he seemed to
hump over in the shoulders. I took
him by the arm and assisted him
up the steps of the gepeacehaus
(armistice conference house). As
we reached the top steps, he turned
to me. I shall never forget the look
in his eyes as he said:
"Munchausen, I see now I must do
it. I only awaited to get the opin
ion of your paper. By the way, I
will ned good reading matter. Send
me the Daily News for one year."'
He handed me a gold 20-mark
piece and wrote down the address,
a certain castle in Switzerland. We
then entered the council chamber
where Prince Max and the other
dignitaries were seated. All rose as
we entered and the prince stepped
forward and wrung my hand. I
handed him a cigarette. He asked
me to sit beside him during the
stormy interview which followed.
Just after the kaiser had abdi
cated the crown prince entered. He
greeted me, paying little attention
to the others present excepting his
father at whom he darted an angry
look.
I advised him to sign a renuncia
tion to the throne. He did so. I
then invited him and the ex-kaiser
to accompany me in my automobile
the coroner he wouldn't let the
doctor touch the body.
"I must repair this lock," he said,
"the first thing, so nothing can be
disturbed."
Doctor Groom, a grim and dark
man, had grown silent on entering
the room. For a long time he stared
at the body in the candle light,
making as much of an examination
as he could, evidently, without
physical contact.
"Why did he ever come here to
sleep?" h asked in his rumbling
bass voice: "Nasty rooml Unhealthy
room! Ten to one you're a formality,
policeman. Coroner's a formality."
He sneered a little.
"I daresay he died what the hard
headed world will call a natural
death. Wonder what the coroner'll
say."
The detective didn't answer. He
fshot rapid, uneasy glances about the
room in which a single candle
burned. After a time he said with
an accent of complete conviction:
, "That man was murdered."
Perhaps the doctor's significant
words," added to her earlier dread
of the abnormal, made Katherine
read in the detective's manner an
apprehension of conditions unfamil
iar toi the brutal routine of his pro
fession. Her glances were restless,
too. She had a feeling that from
the shadowed corners of the faded,
musty room invisible faces mocked
the man's stubbornness.
All this she recited to Bobby,
when, under extraordinary circum
stances neither of them could have
foreseen, he arrived at the Cedars,
many hours later.
(Continued Tomorrow)
to Berlin. We are now on the way,
stopping at this telegrafundtele
phonundpostamptsgesellschaft (Oui
ja office) where I am sending this
dispatchgram.
By Polly Shopper.
A fat man, holding a yellow lead
pencil in his mouth, drove a Ford
down Sixteenth street at high speed
on peace celebration day. Another
funny thing was the holding up of 10
street cars at Sixteenth and Farnam
streets, where a junk wagon horse
balked on the track.
OBSOLETE.
"Our strong German sword."
"The good, old German god."
"Gott strafe England."
Kultur. t I
Schrecklichkeit,
"Deutschland uber alles."
"They can't break the Hinder
burg line in 30 years." i
"I will attend to America later."
"The contemptible English army."
"That's only American bluff."
"Bring England to her knees in
six months."
"Unsere Deutsche kaiser."
Krupp's.
"The invincible German army.'
Divine right of kings.
The Crown Quince.
The All Highest.
Imperial German government.
Mittle Europa. " 1
Berlin to Bagdad railroad.
Scrap of paper.
Eitel Frederick, Adalbert, August
Oscar and Joachim.
The mailed fist
"Ich."
Building Boom in Deer Creek,
There n quite a lot of build
ing going on here atwpresent.
Those building are:Tonk Kal
kowski, corn crib, grainery and
driveway; Martin Bydalek, hog
shed;-H. A. Maciejewski, hog
shed; Frank Gic, corn crib;
Peter Nowicki, W. R. Maciejew
ski and St. Nowicki, chicken
coops; Bob Schuwanski, garage.
Deer Creek correspondence of
the Ashton Herald.
NO LOVE LOST.
There isn't even much family it
fection among royalty. King George
of England, for example, seems to
manifest no sympathy with his first
cousin, the ex-kaiser of Germany. .
, Josephine.
Little Josephine, who lives on
Binney street, shocked the neigh
bors the other day by telling them
that she and her papa and mamma
were "going out to take a ride
around the city in our B. V. D."
And now her mother is sorry she
told the inquisitive Josephine once
that "B..V. D. is just another name
for a Ford."
WARNING.
To the Girl Who Draws the Taw
fe at a Ortaln Eat-and-Scoot Cafe
teria: Unlrss you quit spilling to
much of the spoonful of sugar at the-
slrti! of the cup, we shall feel It null
patriotic duty to Report you to Wat
ties. You don't look pro-Oermn.
Then why do you do It? You must
waste pounds of sugar a day. It's
Just as easy, snd much more econom
ical and neat, to put It all in tha
coffee and none In the saucer. We'll
watch you next time we (ara com
pelled to) eat In that place.
THE COMMITTEE.
We don't want the kaiser killed.
Let us hope he will live many years
to suffer the pangs of remorse and
the contempt of all the world.
' ''Blood and iron" is proved to be a
poor cement with which to construct
a strong and lasting nation.
PERSONAL Anyone knowing of tha
whereabouts of W. J. BRYAN, promi
nent in politics several years ago,
thrlca defeated for tha presidency, see
retary of state for a while, last hears!
rrom la Mareny hit, kindly aoi
tate wlta A. Hunger
1
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