Bemidji Daily Pioneer Newspaper, January 29, 1921, Page 2

'PAGE TWO [ THE BEMIDJI DAILY PIONEER ANUARY 29, 1921 ™ ~ BEMIDJIDAILY PIONEER | !,_’ * PUBLISHED EVERY AFTERNOON EXCEPT SUNDAY THE KEMIDJI PIONEER PUBLISHING CO. E. H. DENU, Sec. and Mgr.| . . CARSON, Presiden ere 4 J. D. WINTER, City Editor G. W. BARNWELL, Editor } Telophone 922 ‘ tered at the postoffice at Bemidji, Minnesota, as second-class matter, Tatared gt fnder Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. | attenti id to anonymous contributions. Writer's name must; be k:‘:wn “n“:.n itlor, but nognllmeenlrlly for publication. Communica- tions for the Weekly Pioneer must reach this office not later than Tuesday of each weekto insure publication in the current issue. — | i | | SUBSCRIPTION RATES 36,00 By Mail (L P S—Y | PR T S—Y LTI (SN T R—— ] .. 3.00 56 .16 THE WEEKLY PIONEER—Twelve pages, published every Thursday and sent postage paid to any address {fcr, in advance, $2.00. OFFICIAL COUNTY AND CITY PROCEEDINGS WATCH YOUR—AUTO! . The recent action of the supreme court of the United States! in upholding that section of the Vo]s.tead law which says tha; a vehicle may be held when it is used for, the transportation of in-; toxicating liquor illegally, should be of .interest to a large num- The decision should discourage the promiscu-j j, ber of persons. > u-| ous loaning of automobiles or other conveyances when there is| any question of the use to which they may be ppt. It is better to play safe in this case than to regret the loss of valuable prop- erty by confiscation. . ) The action of the supreme court was based on a case which had its origin in Georgia, where the owner of an automobile sued to recover the property from government prohibition en-; forcement officers, who had taken possession o!f the” machine after it had been used to transport liquor in violation of the law. The justice who read the decision of the court quot.ed from t_he; Mosaic law to show that an instrument used in an illegal orin-| jurious way came under the condemnation of the law, as in the| case of an ox which had gored a person to death. ¢ The plea that the Georgia man did not know thp use to which the automobile was to be put did not have any mflue_nce with the court, which held that the owner took all the risks when his property was given into the control of another. y i The decision of the court will affect the claims of quite a number of persons, for many automobiles and trucks have been seized by law enforcement officers of the federal government. 1t will at least haves the effect of making many persons more careful in ascertaining the use to which their property is to be put. i RESUMPTION OF BUILDING Important in the process of getting back to “normalcy” is resumption of building operations, not only building of homes, but of business blocks and industrial plants or extensions. This work was practically suspended without entrance into-the war. Lumber dealers point to a decided reduction iin prices and say that the next move is for dealers in other building materials and workers to make if anything worth while is to.be done to- and workers to make similar reductions if anything, worth’ while is to be done toward stimulating building. Little progress seems to have been made in reduction of costs except in Iamber. Those who would be willing to engage in building enter- prises if cost conditions were made right appear to have left it with the contractors, the dealers and the workers to bring about an understanding that will encourage erection ot‘/homes and| construction along other lines. Not only is it important that there be a lowering of costs of building, but construction work will be handicapped until there is a lowering of interest rates. Many large building projects are financed wjth borrowed money, and many homes are built on loans. Present interest rates discourage invesiment in build-| ing. . Plans for new buildings to be erected during the current year are being made now, and it is to the common interest that a basis of operations be agreed upon. 1t is unreasonable to ex- pect that yielding to lower costs be done by only one or two of;| the elements upon which building depends. It is time for all, of them to get together. | The railroad official invited troubles. “I want you to give orders,” demanded the visitor, “that the engineer of the express which passes through EIm Grove at about 11:55 be restrained from blowing his whistle on Sunday mornings.” ¢ . “Impossible!”” exploded the official. ““What prompts you to make such a ridiculous request?”’ “Well, you see,” explained the citizen, in an understone, “our pastor preaches until he hears the whistle blow and that confounded express was twenty minutes late last Sunday.”—Exchange. e the stern citizen to communicate his The Oskaloosa Independent reported the death of a former citizen, whereupon the dead man wrote and said: “I went home and told my wife I was dead and produced a copy of your paper to prove it. While she is a good woman and all that, she thinks your paper lied. and she made me carry! a lot of coal and water in support of her opinion. So, Mr. Editor, I may say that Tam not dead, but I am mad."—Jewell (Kans.) Republican. o The laiser has determined to give an allowance to cach of his children, | as they are said to have no income and he is afraid they may suffer. What a | shame it would be if any of the Hohenzollerns should suffer as a result of the war!—Crookston Daily Times. | We rise'lo remark and our language is plain, that the difference be-, tween the price at the mine and the price in your coal bin, hardly justifies | the increase in railroad passenger rates.—Stiliwater Daily Gazette. " "l;herehwastx}l‘ good deal of C‘;:k burned in Ireland this week. It is/ a spectacular show they are staging there, and they probably pl - ing it into colored minstrels.—Northern News. Y DAY oniturey We lent Europe ten billions and an army of two millions, and that was because a European nation butted into our affairs. We don't call that an ' “entanglement.”—St. Louis Globe-Democrat. Trotzky and the kaiser have both N;etwd themselves as i v y e X s S s in favor of | universal peace. It is now time for the other nations to look to their w: ons.—Brainerd Dispatch. s There might not be so much objection, perhaps, even to footpads carry- ing concealed weapons if they would only keep them concealed.—Seattle ' Times. Probably the women who wear their clothes short at both ends belong to ' the “Friends of the Native Landscape.”—Brainerd Dispatch. There is one thing that may be said of the optimist—| i himself as much as he does others.—St. Cloud Tx‘:ne":“ e sometimes fool h | White tenth of Sobrante, | friend, Mr. Web: | ever go to meet the only human being | i in the world and discover that for ! the minute he lights in Buenaventura. MANS MAN @ : ~Pefer B.Kyne #% Author of “Cappy ~. . IRicks,” “The Valley 3 SYNOPSIS. 1 3 it Oy CHAPTER I—John: Stuart Webster,| mining engineer, after cleaning up a for tune in Death Vallew, Califi, boards a train for the East. Ho befriends a youns lady annoyed by a masher, thoroughly trouncing the “pest.” ‘CHAPTER IL—At Denver ‘Webster re-! ceives a letter from Billy Geaky, his clos- est rriend. Geary urges him, to come to Sobrante, Central America, to finance and develop & mining claim: He decides| go. | CHAPTER III. —Dolores Ruey, the young woman Webster befriended, and Who has made 2 deen impression on him, as he has on her, is.also on the way to Sobrante, CHAPTER 1V.—At Buenaventura, capl. tal of Sobrante,” Billy Geary, ill and pen. niless, is living on the chagity of **Mother | enks,” koeper of a_dramshop. She re-| ceives a cablegram from Dolores, telling of her coming. CHAPTER V.—Dolores’ father, Ricardo | Ruey, president of Sobrante, had been killed in a revolution led by Sarros, the present executive. Dolores, a child of eight. was smuggled out of the country by Mother Jenks and supported by her i the United States. The old woman, ashumed of her occupation and habits of ife. fears to meet Dolores, and serds Geary to the boat to say she has gone to thie United States. CHAPTER VI.—Webster, on his way to Sobrante, is taken ill on the train, and s in a hospital at New Orleans two weeks. Geary bungles his mission, Dolo- res easily seeing through his story. She greets Mother Jenks as her friend and benofactor. Geary falls desperately in love with the girl. . | (Continued From Last Issue) “I'm goiug ashore, it it's' the last act | of my life, and when I get there I'm going to interview the cable agent then Tm going to call at the steam-| ship office and scan the passenger jist | of the last three north-bound steam- ers, and if I do not find Henrletta Wil- kins’ name on one of those passenger | lists I'm going up to Calle de Con-| cordia No, 19—" “I surrender unconditionally, groaned Billy. “I'm a liar from be- ginning to end. I overlooked my hand. I beg of you to belicve me, howerver, | when I tell you that I only told you | those whoppers because I was in honor bound to tell them. Personally, T don’t want you to go away—at least, not until 'm ready to go away, too! Miss Ruey, my nose fs in the dust. There is a fever in my brain and a misery in my heart—" “And contrition in your face,” she ! interrupted him laughingly. “You're | forgiven, Mr. Geary—on one condl- tion.” “Name {t,” he answered. “Tell me everything from beginning to end.” So Billy told her. “I would much | rather have been visited with!a plague of boils, like our old friend, the late Job, than have to tell you this, Miss | Ruey,” he concluded his recital. “Man ! proposes, but God disposes, and yeu're here and bound to learn the truth sooner or later. Mother Isn't a lady | and she knows it, but take it from me, Miss Ru a grand old piece of work. cout—a ring- | tailed sport—a regular individual and { same as a gander.” stn't call at El Buen Aml- 80, Mr. Gear “Perish the thought! Mother must : eall on you. El Buen Amigo is what you might term a hotel for tropical | tramps of the masculine sex. Nearly all of Mother's guests have a past, | you know. They submerged | “Then my benefactor must call to sce me here?” Billy nodded. “When will you bring her here?” Rilly reflected that Mother Jenks Iiad been up rather late the night be- fore and that trade in the cantina | of E1 Buen Amigo hadYeen unusually | brisk; so since he desifed to exhibit the old lady at her best, he concluded it might be well to spar for wind. “Tomorrow at 10,” he declared. Do- lores inclined her head. Something told her she had better leave all future details to the amiable William. “I remember you inquired for your er, when you came aboard the steamer.” ‘ “I remember it, too,” Rilly countered ruefully. “I cant Imagine what's be- come of him. Miss Ruey, did you some mysterious reason he had failed to keep the appointment? Miss Ruey, you'll have to meet old John Stuart He's some boy.” “Old John Stuart?” “How old?” “Oh, thirty-nine or forty on actual count, but one of the kind that will live to be a thousand and then have to be killed with an axe. He's com- Ing to Sobrante to help me put over a she queried. interesting, Mr. Geary! No wonder you were disappointed.” ‘The last sentence was a shaft delib- erately launched; to Dolores’ delight it made a keyhole in Billy Geary's heart. “Don’t get me wrong, Miss Ruey,” he hastened to assure her. “I have a 2ood mine, but I'd trade it for a hand- shake from Jack! The good Lord only , of the Giants,” Etc. " buy her, George, I'm glad now I did it. { wildly. “Gord’s truth!” she gasped; | - “and I'm going to call you Mother.” ConyTRTT P B Xyme published one edition of Jack, and limited the edition to one volume; then the plates were ‘mélted for the junk we call the human race. Two weeks ago, when I was sick and pen- niless and despairing, the possessor of a concession on a fortune, but with- out a centavo in my pockets to buy banana, when I was a veritable beach- comber and existing on the charity of Mother Jenks, I managed finally to communicate with old Jack and told him where I was and wbat I had. There's his answer, Miss Ruey, and I'm not ashamed to say that when I got it I cried like a kid.” And Billy handed her John Stuart Webster's re- warkable cablegram, the receipt of! which had, for Billy Geary, trans' formed night into day, purgatory inta paradise. Dolores read it. | “No wonder you love him,” she de- clared, and added artlessly: “His wife must simply adore him.” | “‘He has no wife to bother his life, so he paddles his own canoe,’” Billy| recited. “I don't believe the old sour| dough has ever been in love with any- thing more charming than the goddess of fortune. He's woman-proof.” “About Mrs. Jenks,” Dolores contin- ued, abruptly changing the subject. “How nice to reflect that after she: had trusted you and believed in you: when you were- penniless, you were) enabled to justify her faith.”” “Youn bet!” BAly declared. “I feel' that I can never possibly hope to catch even with the old Samaritan, although I did try to show her how much I appreciated her.” “I dare say you went right out and bought her an impossible hat,” Dolores challenged roguishly. ~ “No, I didn’t, for a very sufficient reason. Down here the ladies do not wear hats. 'But Il tell- you what I did Miss "Ruey—and oh, b, She'll wear them tomorrow when I bring her to see you. I bought her-a new black | silk dress and an'old-lace collar, and a gold breast pin“and a tortoise shell hair comb and hired an open carriage and took lier for an evening ride on the Malecon to listen to the band con- cert.” “Did she like that?” “She ate it up,” Billy declared with conviction, “I think it was her first adventure in democracy.” \ Billy’s pulse was. still far from nor-! ‘mal when he reached Il Buen Amigo, for he was infused with a strange,’ new-found warmth that burned like malarial fever, but wasn’t. He wasted no preliminaries on Mother Jenks, but | bluntly’ acquainted her with the facts in the case. Mother Jenks cved him a moment she reached for her favorite elixir, but Billy got the bottle first. “Nothlng doing,” he warned this stfange publican. “Mother, you're funking it—and what would your sdinted 'Enery say to that? Do you want that angel to you and get a whiff of this brandy Mother Jenks' eyes actually popped. “Gor’, Willie,” she gasped, “aven’t Hi told ye she's a 1y Me kiss the lamb Hi trust, Mr. Geary, as 'ow I knows my place an' can keep it.” “Yes, I know,” Billy soothed the | frightened old woman, “but the trouble Is Miss Dolores doesn’t know lers— | and something tells me if she does, she'll forget it. She'll take you in her arms and kiss you, sure as death and | tuxes.” | And she did! “My lamb, my lamb,” sobbed Mother Jenks the nest morn- g, and rested her old chieck, with its | rum-begotten hue, close to the rose-| tinted ivory cheek of her ward. *Me | —wot T am—an’ to think—"' i “You' sweet old dear,” Dolores whispered, patting the ,zray -head; i “Mr. William H. Geary,” the girl remarked that night, “I know now why your friend, Mr. Webster, sent that | cablegram. I think youre a scout, too.” . For reasons best known to himself Mr. Geary blushed furious! “I—-T'd better go and break the news to Moth- er,” he suggested inanely. She held | out her hand: and Billy, having been long enough in Sobrante to have quired the habit, bent his malari person over that hand and kissed it. | As he went out it occurred to him | that had the lobby of the Hotel Ma- | teo been paved with eggs, he must | have floated over them like a wraith, | s0 light did he feel within, 1 CHAPTER VIl . Webster reached New Orleans at | the end of the first leg of his journey, to discover that he was one day late to board the\Atlanta—a banana boat | of the Consolidatsil Fruit company’s line plying regularly between New Or- leans und that company’s depots a Limon and Sau Buenaventura—which | necessitated a wait of three days for the steamer La Estrellita of the Ca- | ribbean Mail line, running to Caracas and way ports. He decided (o visit the tickdt officy i ! slow smile, and pondered. ot the Caribbean Mail line immediate- Iy and. avoid the rush in case’ the travel should be heavy. The steamship office was in Canal street. The clerk was waiting on two well-dressed and palpably low-bred . sons of the tropics, to whom he.had Jjust displayed a passenger list which the two were scanning eritically. Thelr interest In ‘it was so obvious that unconsciously Webster .. peeped over. their shoulders (no diffcult task - for one of his stature) and discovered it to be the passenger list of<the stenmer La'Estrellfta.” They were con- versing together in 1gw tones and Web- ster, who had spent many years of his’ life following his profession in Mexico, recognized their speech as the bastard Spanish of the peon. He sat down in the long wall seat and waited until the pair, having com- pleted their scrutiny of the list, turned to pass out. He glanced at them cas- ually. One was a tall thin man whose bloodshot eyes were inclined to “pop™ a little —infallible evidence in the Latin-American that he is drinking more hard liquor than is good for him. His companion was plainly of the same racial stock, although Webster suspected him of a slight admixture of negro blood. He was short, stocky, | and aggressive looking; like his com- panion, bejeweled and possessed of a thin, carefully cultivated moustachc that seemed to consist of about nine- teen hairs on one side and twenty on \ I i i AR T RN \\u‘ng [ i )W/l /’1 “The Outlook Is Very Blue.” the other, Eridently once upon a time, as the story books have it, he had been shot. Webster suspected a Mauser bullet, fired at long range; It had entered his right check, just be- low the malar, ranged downward through his mouth and out through a fold of flabby flesh under his left Jowl. It must have been a frightful wound, but it had healed well except at the point of entrance, where it had a tendency to pucker considerably, thus drawing the man’s eyelid down on his cheek and giving to that visual organ something of the appearance of a bulldog’s, Webster gazed after them whimsi- cally as he approached the counter. “I'd hate to wake up some night and find that hombre with the puck- ered eye leaning over me. By the way,” he continued, suddenly appre- hensive, “do you get much of that paraquect travel on your line?” “About 80 per cent. of it is off color, sir Webster pondered the 80-per-cent.’ probability of being berthed in the same stateroom with oue of these people and the prospect was as re- valting to him as would be an unin- vited negro guest at the dining table of a_ south family. He had all a Westerner's hatred for the breed, “Well, Twanta ticket to San Bueda- ventura,” he informed the clerk, “but I don’t relish the idea of a Grenser in tateroom with we. I won- you couldn’t manage to fix me with a stateroom all to myself, or at least arrange it so that in the event of company I'll draw a white wman.” sir, but I cannot guar- antee you absolute privacy nor any kind of white man.. It's pretty mixed travel to all Central American ports.” “How many berths in your first- | class staterooms?” o Webster smiled brightly. He haad found a way out of the difficulty. “I'll | buy ’em both, son,” he announced. “I cannot scll you an entire state- room, sir. IU's against the orders of the company to sell two Derths to one man. The travel is pretty brisk hardly fair to the public, you “Well, suppose T buy one ticket for myself and the other for—well, for wy valet, let us say. Of course,” he added brightly, “I haven't engaged the valet yet and even should I do so I wouldn't be at all surpriscd if the ras- cal missed the boat!™ The clerk glanced at him with a “Well,” he id presently. “If you care to buy a your valet, I'm sure I shouldn’t worry whether or not he catches the boat. If my records show | that the space is sold to two men and the purser colleets two tickets, T think you'll be pretty safe from intrusion.” “To the harassed traveler,” said Mr. Webster, “a meeting with a gentleman of your penetration is as refreshing as g canteen of cool water in the des- ert. Shoot!” and he produced a hand- ful of gold. * “I will—provided I have one empty cabin,” and the clerk turned from the counter to consuit his record of berths already sold and others reserved but not paid for. Presently he tuged Webster at the counter. Y { “The outlook is very blue,” he an- nounced. “However, I have one berth in No. 34 reserved by a gentleman who was to call for it by two o’clock to-dny.” He looked at his watch., “It is;now a quarter of one. If the reser- vation isn’t claimed promptly at tivo | o'¢lock 1 shall cancel it and reserve for you both berths in that room. If you will be good enough .to leave me your pame and address I will tele- phone you after that hour. In the meantime, you may make reservation of the other berth in tite same state- room. I feel very confident that the reservation in No. 34 will not be called for, Mr.—er—" . “Webster—Jobn 8. are very kind, indeed. Charles.” “Be there at a quarter after two, | Mr. Webster, and you will hear from me promptly on the minute,” the clerk assured him; whereupon Webster paid for one berth and departed for his hotel with a feeling that the clerk’s report would be favorable. True to his promise, at precisely a quarter after two, the ticket clerk telephoned Webster at his hotel that | the berth in No. 34 hgd been canceled {and the entire stateroom was now at his disposal P “If you will be good enough to give me the name of your valet,” he con- | cluded, “I will fill in both names on Webster. You I'm at the St. | my passenger manifest and send the | | tickets to your hotel by messenger im- | mediately. You can then sign the tick- i ets—I have already signed them as: | witness—and pay the messenger.” “Well, T haven't engaged that valet ;| | as vet,” Webster began. “What's the odds? ‘He’s going to miss the boat, anyhow. is a name.” , | “That ought to be a simple request | to comply with. Let me see!” ‘ “I read a book once, Mr. Webster, and the valet in that book was called | Andrew Bowers.” i |~ “Bowers is a fine old English name, | ! Let us scck no further. Andrew Bow. iers it Is.” ) | “Thank you. All you have to do | then is to remember to sign the name, Andrew Bowers, to one ticket. Don’t forget your valet’s name now, and ball everything up,” and the clerk hung up, | Iaughing. | Half an hour later a boy from the ' steamship oflice arrived with the tick- ets, collected for them, and departed, leaving John Stuart Webster singu- | larly pleased with himself and peace with the entire world. | A *large” dinner at Antoine’s that night (Webser had heard of Antoine’s dinners, both large and small and was resolved not to leave New Orleans un- i til he had visited the famous restaur- ant). and a stroll through the pictur- esque old French quarter and along “the ¢ levee next day, helped to render his enforced stay in New Orleans delight- ful, interesting, and instructive. For Sunday he planned an early morning visit to the old French market, around. which still lingers much of the pic- turesque charm and colorful romance of a day-that is done-—that echo of yesterday, as it were, which has New Orleans an individuality as dis- tinet as that which the olden, golden, ' zodless days have left upon San Fran- ciseo, Ile rose beford o’clock, there- fore: found a t; with the drive sound asleep inside, at the curb in + front of the hotel; gave the latter his instructions, and climbed in. Opposite Jackson Square the cloy- ing sweetness of palmetto, palm, and fig Dburdened the air, Above the rumble of the taxi he could hear the nt babel of voices in the French market across’ the square, so he halted the taxicab, alighted, and handdd the driver a Dbill. want to explore this square,” he He had recognized it by the heroie statue of General Jackson peep- ing through the trees. “Tll walk through the square to the market, and you may proceed to the warket and i meet me there. Later we will return to the hotel.” A Creole girl=starry-eyed, heauti- ful, rich with the glorious coloring of her race—passed him bound for the cathedral across the square, as Web- ster thought, for she carried a large prayer hook on her arm. His glance {followed the girl down the walk. Presently she halted. A young man rose from a bench where he evidently had Dbeen waiting for her, and | bowed low, his hat clasped to his as only a Frenchman or a randee can -bow. Webster { saw the Creole girl turn to him with a little gesture of pleasure. She ex- tended her hard and the young man [ kissed it with old-fashioned courtesy. | John Stuart Webster with reverent | and wistful eyes watched their meet- | ing. Spanish | “Forty years old.” he thought, “and ' { T haven't spoken to'a dozen women ! that caused me a second thought, or [who weren't postmistresses or biscuit | shooters! Forf ars old and I've never been in love! Springtime down that little path and Indian summer in my old fool heart. Why, I ought to | be arrested for failure to live!” walking | | The lovers were slowly, arm In arm, along the path by which the girl had come, so-with a courtesy and gentleness that were innate in him, Webster stepped out of sight be- hind the statue of Old Hickory; for he did not desire, by his mere pres- ence, to intrude a discordant note in the perfect harmony of those two hu- man hearts, He knew they desired that s¥lvan path to themselves; that evidently they had sought their early morning tryst in the knowledge that the square was likely to be deserted at thts hour. All I require | The young man was speaking as they passed; his voice was rich, pleas- ant, vibrant with the earnestness of what he had to say: with a pretty little silver mounted walking stick he slashed at spears of grass alongside the path; the girl was crying a little, Neither of them had seen him, so he entered a path that led from them at right angles. He bad proceeded but a few feet along this trail when, through a break in the shrubbery ahead of him, he saw two men. Brief as was his glimpse of them, Webster instantly recognized the two Central Amcricans he had seen in the'steqmiship ticket office two days previous. i They were not. walking as walk two men abroad at thig hour for a con- stitutional, - Neither did they walk as walk © men churchward . bound. A slight, skulking air marked their-prog- ress, and causéd Webster to wonder | 1dly what they were stalking. He turned into the path down which the two men had passed, not with the slightest idea of shadowing them, but because his destination lay in that direction. Both men had forsaken the graveled path and were walking on the soft vel- vet of blue grass lawn that fringed it! “Perhaps I'd better deaden my hoof beats also,” John' Stuart Webster soliloquized, and followed suit imme- diately. INe had scarcely done so when the {.-men ahead of him paused abruptly. Webster did likewise, and responding —subconsciotsly, perhaps, to the re- membrance of the menace in the glance of the man with the puckered eye—he stepped out of sight behind a broad oak tree. . Through the trees - and shrubbery he could still sec the lovers, who had halted and cvidently were about to part., Webster saw the young man glance warily about; then, apparently satis- fied there was none to spy upon them, he drew the girl' gently toward him. | Drew the Girl Gently Toward Him. She clung to him for nearly a minute, sobbing; then he raised her face ten- derly, kissed her, pressed her from him, and walked $wiftly away without looking back. It was a sweet and rather fouching little tableau; to John Stuart Webster, imaginative and possessed of a ro- mantic streak in his nature, it wr more than a tableau. It was a mov- ing picture! - I suppose her old man ohjects fo the young fellow,” he muttered io himself sympathetically, “and he ean't come near the house. They've met , here for the fond farewell, and now the young fellow’s going out West to make his fortune, so he can come back and claim the girl. Huh! If he wants her, why the devil doesn’t he {ake her? Hello! By Judas priest! Now Lknow what those two paraqueets are | up to. One of them is the father of ! that girl. They've been spying on the | lovers, and now they’re going to cor- ner the young fellow and-shingle him for his nerve.” . The girl had stood for a moment, | gazing after her companion, before she | turned with her handkerchief to her eyes, and continued on her way to the cathedral. Webster heard her sob- bing as she stumbled blindly by, and he ‘was distressed about her, for all the world loves a lover and John Stuart Webster was no exception to ! this universal rule, “By George, this is pretty tough,” “he reflected. “That young fellow treated that girl with as much gentle- ness and courtesy as an; gentleman should, and I'm for Rim and against this idea of corporal punishment, Don’t you worry, Tillie, my dear. I'm ' going to horn into this game myself if it goes too, far.” The two dusky skulkers aliead of him, having come to amother cross- path, turned into it'dnfdl ‘éame out on the main path in the réar of the young man. Webster noticed that the paw ; were still walking on the grass. e padded gently along behlad them. The four were now rapidly ap proaching the eld French market, nmf. the steadily rising babel of voices™™ speaking in Freneh, Ttalian, Spanish, Creole patois and Choctaw, was suffi- cient to have drowned the slight noise of the pursuit, even had the young man’s mind not been upon other things, and the interest of the two Central Americans centered upon their quarry, to the exclusion of any thought ible interruption, ter felt instinctively that the (Continued on Page 5)