X MHMMMMMMMHIMMIIMMMMIMtMIMHIHIOMHHMMOMltMIHIM0IMCMMMIIIMMMMMIIMMMMMOMHMMO00OCMMMO"CCOOi The Great Semi-Annual Event that all the people of Lincoln look forward to the great Bargain Sale that all the people of Lincoln attend. - THE COURIER. &- I COMMENCES HERE MONDAY MORNING JULY 9. Here are a few sample prices. See Yellow Circulars for full particulars. X All summer wash goods; 50c and over values, yard ZUc All summer wash goods, 25c and doc values, yard 10c All summer wash goods, 15c, 18c and 22c values, yard 5c " All summer lawn, yard 2c X 6c Light Dress and Shirting I - prints, yard 2jic 6c Dark Dress and Shirting Prints, yard 3c 6c German Blue, yard 4&c 8c Apron and Cheviot Ging hams, yard 4&c 9c Bed Ticking, yard 5&c 6c LL Nublea Muslin, yard 4$c J Can field Dress Shield (seconds) nrsts worth 25c and 35c, pair. 8c Pulley Stock Collars, slightly soiled, worth to 75c, choice.. 10c I 5c Silk Hair Nets 2 for 3c Our Usual Semi-Annual Silk Sensation. 1,500 yards of Corded Kai Kai Silks, 'etc., value regularly 50c. 500 yards on sale Monday, 8 A. M., yard 1 pc 500 yards on sale Tuesday, 8 I L A. Myard..' IH 500 .yards on sale Wednesday, 11 8 A. M. yard Summer Dress and Fancy Waist silks, values to $1.00, yard. . . 50c Summer Dress and Fancy Waist Silks, values to $2.00, yard. . . 75c Fancy Parasol Slaughter. All Fancy Parasols in the House, regular price $6 to $10 '.$3.00 All Fancy Parasols worth $4.50 to $6.00 $2.00 All Fancy Parasols worth $3.00 to $4.00 $1.50 All Fancy Parasols worth ,$1.50 to $2.50 : $1.00 All Summer Colored Shirt Waists, worth to 75c 49c All 98c Colored Shirt Waists. . ..75c All $1.50 Colored Shirt Waists. $1.00 All $1.98, $2.25, $3.00, $3.50..$1.50 Denim Homespun and Linen Dress Skirts, worth $2.00 98c 12, 18, 22 in. stamped Linen -Doylies, worth to 25c 5c Wash Emb'y Rope Silks, odd shades, skein lc 25c Tapestry Cushion Tops and backs 10c 25c Fancy Taffeta Ribbons . .15c 50c Fancy Taffeta Ribbons . . 25c 75c Fancy Taffeta Ribbons . . 35c Embroideries, widths to 7 inches, mostly short lengths, values to 25c 7c ftfc, MIMIIMIIMMMSIMCMIMMIMMMIMMIIMCMIMMIMe0HO0IM00O8MMMOiOtMMMMIMtlMMMIM00l"MMIM0l0CIOMOIOOiO0 JHfifflP I nilllrltJ THE AFFAIR AT GROVER STATION. (Continued from Page 5.) bead of a plaster cast of Parnell, Larry's hero. -His dress suit was missing, u there was no doubt he had dressed for the party. His overcoat fry on his trunk and his dancing shoes were oh the floor, at the foot of his bed by his everyday ones. I knew that his pumps were a little tight, he had joked about them when I was down the Sunday be fore the dance, but he had only one pair, and b couldn't have got another in Grower H he had tried himself, That set me to thinking. He was a dainty fellow about his shoes and 1 knew hie collection pretty well. I west to bis closet and found them all there. Even granting him a prejudice against over coats, .1 couldn't conceive of his going; out in that stinging weather without shoes. I noticed that a surgeons case, such as are carried on passenger trains, and one which Larry had once appro priated in Cheyenne, was open, and that the roll of medicated cotton had been pulled out and recently used. Each, discover; I made served only to add to ny perplexity. Granted that Freyniarlc had been there, and granted that he bad played the boy an ugly -trick, he could not have spirited him away with , out the knowledge of the train crew. . u 'Duke, old doggy,' I said to the poor spaniel who was sniffing and whining about the bed, 'you haven't done your duty. You must have seen what went na between your master and that dam blooded Asiatic, and you ought to be able to give me a,tip.of some sort.' "J decided to go to bed and make a. fresh start on the ugly business in the morning. The bed looked as though eome one had been lying on it, so I started to beat it up a little before I got in. I took off the pillow and aa I pulled up the mattress, on the edge of the ticking at the head of the bed, I saw a dark red stain about the size of my hand. I felt the cold sweat come out on me, and my hands were dangerous ly unsteady, as I carried the lamp over and set it down on the chair by the bed. But Duke was too'quick for me, he had seen that stain and, leaping on the bed, legan sniffing it, and whining likn a dog that is being whipped to death. I bent down and felt it with my fingers. It was dry, but the color and stiffness were unmistakably those of coagulated blood. 1 caught my coat and vest and ran down stairs with Duke yelping at my heels. My first impulse wan to go and call someone, but from the platform not a single light was visible, and I knew the section men had been in bed for hours. J remembered then, that Larry was often troubled by hemorrhages at the nose in that high altitude, but even that -did not altogether quiet my nerves, and J realized that sleeping in that bed was altogether out of the question. Larry always kept a supply of brandy -and soda on hand, so I made myself a 'stiff drink and filled the stove and locked the door, turned down the lamp and lay down on the operator s table. I had often slept there when I was night operator. At first it was impossible to -sleep, for Duke kept starting up and limping to the door and scratching at it, yelping nervously. He kept this up until I was thorougly unstrung, and though I'm ordinarily cool enough, there wasn't money enough in Wyoming to have bribed me to open that door. I felt cold all over every time I went near it, and I even drew the big rusty bolt that is never used, and it seemed to me that it groaned heavily as I drew it, or perhaps it was the wind outside that groaned. As for Duke, 1 threatened to put him out, and boxed his ears until I hurt his feelings, and he lay down in front of the door with his muzzle be tween his front paws and his eyes shin ing like live coals and riveted on the crack under the door. The situation was gruesome enough, but the liquor had made me drowsy and pt last I fell asleep. "It muBt have been about three o'clock in the morning that I was awakened by the crying of the dog, a whimper low, continuous and pitiful, and indescrib ably human. While I was blinking my eyes in an effort to get thoroughly awake, I heard another sound, the grat ing Eound of chalk on a wooden black board, or of a soft pencil on a slate. I turned my head to the right, and saw a man standing with his back to me, chalking something on the bulletin board. At a glance I recognized the broad, high shoulders and handsome head of my friend. Yet there was that about the figure which kept me from calling his name or from moving a mus cle from where 1 lay. He finished his writing and dropped the chalk, and I distinctly heard it click as it fell. He made a gesture as though he were dust ing his fingers, and then turned facing me, holding his left band in front of his mouth. I Eaw him clearly in the soft light of the station lamp. He wore his dress clothes, and began moving toward the door silently as a shadow in his black stocking feet. There whs about his movements an indescribable stiffness, as though bis limbs had been frozen. His face was chalky white, his hair seemed damp and plastered down close about his temples. His eyes were color less jellies, dull as lead, and stariLg straight before him. When he reached the door, he lowered the hand ho held before his mouth to lift the latch. His face was turned squarely toward me, and the lower jaw had fallen and was set rigidly upon his collar, the mouth wide open and was stuffed full of ichite cotton! Then I knew it was a dead man's face I looked upon. "The door opened, and that stiff black figure in stockings walked as noiselessly as a cat out into the night. I think 1 went quite mad then, I dimly remem ber that I rushed out upon the siding .and ran up and down screaming, 'Larry, Larry,' until the wind seemed to echo my call. The stars were out in myriad?, and the enow glistened in their light, but I could Bee nothing but the wide, white plains, not even a dark shadow anywhere. When at last I found my self back in the station, I saw Duke lying before the door and dropped on my knees beside him, calling his name. But Duke was. past calling back. Mas ter and dog had gone together, and I dragged him into the corner and cov ered his face, for his eyes were colorless and soft, like the eyes of that horrible face, once so beloved. The black board? O, I didn't for get that. I had chalked the time of the accommodation on it the night be fore, from sheer force of habit, for it isn't customary to mark the time of A. ; 4 i. fe ? 3 f 1 if