Bemidji Daily Pioneer Newspaper, February 2, 1921, Page 2

., world. - "BEMIDJI DAILY PIONEER ' 7 PUBLISHED EVERY AFTERNOON EXCEPT SUNDAY THE BEMIDJI PIONEER PUBLISHING CO. E. H. DENU, Sec. and Mgr. J. D. WINTER, City Editor G E. CARSON, President G. W. HARNWELL, Editor ‘Telephone 922 Entered at the pn—noflica at Bemidji, Minnesota, as second-class matter, ' under Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. No attention paid to anonymous contributions. Writer's name must be known to the editor, but not necessarily for publication. Communica- tidus for the Weekly Pioneer must reach this office not later than Tuesday ! of each week to insure publication in the current issue. SUBSCRIPTION RATES BSTER | -7% : Peter B.Kyne Author of ‘3Cappy ‘Ricks,” “The Valley of the Giants,” Etc. By Carrier 6o ! . g&‘l}o;.:i;“: :53:00 -..$5.00 JCmarTen 1 ohn Stuart Webster,| . { mining enzineer, cleaning up a fors | Three Months 1:50 o 280" Tune g Deatl SCalits boaras e One Month .. .55 N 158 train for the L ¢ befriciils a o ’:‘ Otte Week .15 Three Months R o lady annoye: 2 masher, Ceroushily | THE WEEKLY PIONEER-—Twelve pages, published every Thursday, CHAPTER IL-at Denver Webster ro- snd sent postage paid to any address fcr, in advance, $2.00. i :m‘;_ ter f":j"ufj;'elg Geary, B::‘;‘,lufo OFFICIAL COUNTY AND CITY PROCEEDINGS “AMERICANS,” NOT “CLASSES” i Nationally, we are just beginning to realize that we have! an agricultural problem. We have always had this pro»blem, but it never really got in our way until recent Now it hfis‘ suddenly become so big we can’t see much else bec'au'se. of its hugeness. We are like a big boy who calls on bis “girl” for the first time and suddenly discovers that, while he ncver before was conseious of his hands or feet, he somehow finds ncw that he has nothing but hands and feet and doesn’t know whezre to put them.| He does a lot of foolish things which only accentuate his awk-: . 3 ral America, to finance €lop & mining cluim. He decides CIIAPTER 111 — Dolores R the young woman Webster befriended, and ! who Tias made a deep impression on him, lie Tas on her, Is also on the way 1o Sobrante, . CHAPTER 1V.—At Buenaventura, capl- tal of Sobrante, Billy Geary, ill 1 niless, is living on thie charily ot 5. keeper of u_dramslio celves a cablegram 1 of her coming. CHAPTER V.—Dolores’ father, Rica | [ warduess. . et v oo o RS e R A% imilar has it been since the realizaticn of the United | by Mother Jenks ana supported by her In the Un 4 Sta The old woman, States that there was an agricultural problem. Things have! been done which have only aggravated the conditions. The farmers have been called profiteers and robbers,; swoopirg down on the city consumer. Much irisinformation ' about, and much prejudice against, the farmer has been created. | § Then, too, he has been grossly exploited by the crafty dema-: gogue, who, through his propaganda of sympathy, has sought to makz profit of him instead of helping him. He has been pictured as the victim of ‘Big Busincss,” a, general term sneeringly applied by some ultra-radicals to those ] engaged in finance and commerce. They have pictured him as, having many economic ills he does not have and h:ve prescribed | valuelcts remedies for his real ills. ! Tho farmer does not want sympathy nor Joes he pmposei to be villified. All he wants is a fair deal. If we Fave read his | aims aright he wants the plain unvarnished truth told about him- | self, hic work, his ambitions, his hopes, his triais, his disappoint- ments, his relation to society and society’s relatien to him. We | 4o not believe he wants special class legislation passed for his benefit that is going to place a burden on his fellow man. There | has been altogether too much talk about this class and that class. The “farmer class,” the ‘“‘banker class,” the “producer class,” the “labor class” and the “‘consumer class” have been terms used too glibly. We are sick of hearing them. We need to practice a few more Americanization methods on ourselves, as Americans, which we are so free to prescribe) to the for- eigner. We must have legislation that will help the farnier, to be sure, but not that will work injury to some other class, be- | cause 't helps the farmer. | The farmer, the merchant, the producer and consumer, have,.as a matter of fact, all suffered from incompetent official- Adom many times in the past, but the blame has been placed by | one class on the other, instead of where it really belonged—on | the incompetent officialdom. Class distinc', —even class' prejucices and class hatreds—have been creat d 'and fostered by those in power often times to hide some in:fFiciency ir. their, own administration and to serve their political ends. The problem of the farmer is the nation’s problem. the problem of the office clerk is the nation’s prohlem—as are the' problems of the man who labors with his hands, the man Lehind | the engine’s throttle, the mill hand and the nmerchant. We must approach all problems as Americans and not as classes nor cliques, and cement the unity and solidarity of the nation. P _ JUST TALKING IT OVER S¢id the Groundhog to the Robin, “how do you do this merning?”’ Said the Robin to the Groundhog, “where’ve you been all spring?” i water where the Mississippi enters beautiful Lake Bemidj. P.S.: “Well, if here isn’t our friend ‘Old Sol’—Let's beat 1t,”" seid the Groundhog. i EARLY SPRING PLOWING " Tae farmers in this section are preparing for spring plo ing, ard membp.rs of the Bemidji Country club uve getting their golf r_lubs polished to be ready for a game of ‘ Cow Pasture Pool.” Seed concerns will do well to begin their campaign of advertising in the Pioneer early this year. 0y SPEND YOUR WINTERS HERL: ! “(T;ehfor‘nia l'e:sidents, please take notice.” 1If the weather in that state is too inclement, an invitation is her th extended to spend the rest of the winter in Northern Mianesota. Boat- élng, bathing, fishing and golfing are the main at‘ractions these ays A burglar serving a 20-year sentence at Joliet prison esca vi the home of the prison director, stole two suits of tlothes, retmeed o the orison, nficd the pockets of 60 sleeping guards and got away safely. Thus the question, “can the criminal come back and make good? ered in the affirmative.—Little Falls Transcript. i Alexander Konta says the United States has no friends countries in Europe. among the allied r That is strictly according to the cxperie . v If you give a man $10, and he wants more, he 1s \'oul: sc\':f'(?s:f'ritg:‘ if you do not give him twenty.—St. Loui. Globe-Demociat. IR Mr. Hughes is being talked about as a possiol. state or as a candidate for one of the nrobable court bench, but nobody scems to have thougiit th good attorney general.—Detroit Free Press. o choice for secretary of vacan, on the sapreme at he might make a pretty Austrian art socicties are tryin ve i i i ties a g to save Gobelin tapestries from passin mto Affiyncqn gnssessm:. Over here we put it the other way about. Facfi new millionaire is warned: “The Gobelins Il ~it you of . 't wateh out.” e millionaire is wamed R vou don't watch out.” | Judging from present tendencies in style, big sistor's v | it little. sister without shortening.—Red Wing Remsbiions, 1o Y soon The advice tendered President-elect Harding is rapi i Proportions of a landslide.— Washington Star. .~ | PO Assum'ng the i \ P — S . And they both strolled off tu the edge of the' f i aleoholic ashamed of her lite, fears to Geary to the 1 to tlie United S and habits of and sends CHAPTE Sobrante, s in t VI.—Webster, on his way to s taken ill on the train, and ' hospital at New Orleans two weeks. Geiry pungles his mission, Dolo- rey easily seeing through his story. She greets Mother Jenks as her friend and benefactor. “Geary falls desperately in love with the giri, CHAPTER VIL—At New Orleans, while waiting for the steamer to Bue Webster saves the life of a Who 1s attacked by two a: 8. The pouth leaves Webster without disclosing is identity. n_somewh; cri n the steamer Web- ster 1 om_accupied by a | stranger ares his intention of | being his guest to Buenaventura. At | angered. nd the stri i | e argument, amicable im as the vouth whose life he had saved | the day beéfore. though the other does ! not know Webster. re. as “Andre: Rt Mother Jenks'. Webst; that Gear 1 Dolores ance he s s v contracicts the girl’s statement that they ve met hefore. CH wa tero,” of good qualities fi ) | mence in liguor, that th assassinate him. Webster makes a firm friend of Cafferty. Later, the American Is insulted by a Sobrantean army officer and publicly ridicules him, A challenge to o duel i{s accepted under such stern Fonditions that the Sobranteans with- draw it. ere s a plot to (Continued From Last He could have groaned with the futility qf his overwhelming desire for | it 2ven occurred to him what a ne It was to waste a marvel like | tier on a callow young pup like Billy, | who had fought so many deadly rm- ishes with Dan Cupid that post- | fmpressionistic painting of the Geary heart wust resemble a pincushion. Tuen he vemembered that this was an ungenerous, a traltorous thought, and | that lie had not paid the lady her fee. | “Well, what's the tarill?" he asked. “You really feel that 1 have earned rofession: youd a doub ince you have from me this evenin; you take Billy After dinner you e) | v Billy away ace this evening. all lrire an - open win with two little white horses nd drive e around the Malecon. There is a band concert to-night. “If Qs the last act of my wicked Tife!” e promised fervently. Stringe to relate, [in that ecstatic monent no thought of Billy ry warred the per- feet serenity of what promised to he the mast perfectly serene night in his- tor, . L They were seated at the tiny tea tabie when the sound of feet erunch- ing the littie shell-paved path through the patio caused Webster and Dolores to turn their heads nultaneously. Coming toward them wa$ an individ- of Maming ual who wore upon a | ced a disreputable, conical-crowned ‘ sombrero; a soiled cotton camisa with the tails flowing free of his equally soiled khaki trousers, and sand of the kind known as alpar- gates—made from the tough fibre of a plant of the cactus family and worn | anly by the very lowliest peons—com- | pleted his singular attire. “One of friends and another reason why no social standing,” Dolores whispered, “I believe he's go- ng to speak 1o u Such evidently appeared to be the man’s intention. He came to the edge of the veranda, swept his ruin | of a hat from his red head and bowed with Castilian expansiveness, “Yer pardon, Miss, for appearin® be- fore you.” She smiled her forgiveness to what Webster now pereeived to be an wreek. Ile was ahout to dismiss the fellow with scant cere- mony, when’ Dolores, with that rich sense of almost masculine humor— a humor that was distinctly American —said sweetly: “Mr. Webster, shake hands with Don CopyteWB7 Peisr B. Xyae Juan Cafetero, Lon vivant and man | about town. Don Juan, permit me to: present Mr. Webster, from somewhere in the United States. Mr. Webster is a mining partner of our mutual friend ' M. William Geary.” A long, sad descent into the Pit had, however, imbued Don Juan with a} sense of his degradation; he was in the presence of a superior, and he ac- knowledged the introduction with a respectful indlination of his head. [ s you I've called to see, Misther | Webster, sor,” he explained. “Very well, old-timer. In what way | can I be of service to you?” ! “7Tis the other way around, sor, “‘. ve plaze, an’ for that same there’s no ! A¥y ! > “'Tis You l've Called to See.” charrge, scein’ ye're the partner, av that fine, kind gintleman, Misther Geary. Did ye, whilst in New Orleans, | have d'alings wit’ a short, shtouti spiggoty wit’ a puckered scar undher his right eye?” John Stuart Webster suddenly sat up straight and gazed upon the lost son of Erin with grave interest. “Yes,” he replied, “I seem to recall such a man.” *'Tis none av me business, sor, but would ye¢ mind tellin’ me just what ye did to that spiggoty?” “Why, to begin, last Sunday morn- | ing I interrupted this pucker-eyed fel- low and a pop-eyed friend of his while engaged in an attempt to assassinate a white, inoffensive stranger. The fol- lowing day, at the gangplank of the steamer, we met again; he poked his nose into my business, so I squeezed his nose until he cried; right before everybody I did it, Don Juan, and to add insult to injury, I plucked a few hairs from his v noustache—one | hair per each pluck. ! “I'd a notion ye did somethin’ to | him, sor. Now, thin, listen to me: I'm not much to look at, but I'm white. | I'm an att: v, as ye might say, av ' Ignatz Leber—him that do have the | import an’ export house at the ind | av the Calle San R 1, forninst the | bay. Also he do have charrge av the ! cable oflice, an’ whin I'm sober enough, | I deliver cablegrams for Leber.. Now, | then, ye'll recall we had a bit av a| shower to-day at noon?” i Dolores and Webster nodded. Don | Juan, after glancing cautiously around, | lowered his voice and continued: 1! was deliverin’ a cablegram for Lebur.“ an’ me course took past the palace | gate—which, be the we token, has| sinthry-hoxes both inside an’ out, wan ! on each side av the gate. The sinthry was not visible as I came along, an’ | what wit’ the shower comin’ as sud- dint as that, ’ me wit' a wardrobe | that's not so extinsive I can afford to | get it wet, I shtepped into wau av the outside sintry:hoxes till the rain should be over, an’ what wit’ a dhrink av ag ente 1'd ook to brace me for the thrip, an’ the mimory av auld times. T fell asleep. e “Dear knows how long T sat there napping: all 1 know is that 1 was awakened by the soand av three men talkin, at the gate, an’ divil a worrd did they say but what I heard. They were talkin® in Spanish, but 1 un- dhershtood thim well enough. ‘He's at | the Hotel Mateo,” says wan voice, ‘an’ his name is Webster—Jawn Webster. He's an Ameriecan, an’ a big, sa lookin® lad at that, so take me advice an' be carcful. Do ye two keep an eye on him wherever he goes, an’ if e should shtep out at right an’ wan- shtreet, do ye two, - dher t'rough a da see to it that h interfere 1in in Don Felipe's affairs. No damu’ gringo’—beggin’ yer par- risk.” can intherfere in the in addition to insultin’ time like thi our honored chief, wit'out the neces- regular despot.” L a fight wit’ ye. | United States very.soon. | spoke. | every man roll his own hoop. ity v Dein’ “tcasured for a cofin.’ | i, mi general, says another lad, an, ‘To be sure, mi general,’ says a thirrd; | an® wit’ that the gineral, bad cess to; him, wint back to the palace an’-the’ other two walked on up the calle an’| away from the sinthry-box.” “Did you come out aund follow: them?”. Webster demanded briskly. | th, I did. Wun av them Is’ Fraricisco Arredondo, a young cavalry lootinint, an’ the other wan is Captain Jose Benevides, him that do be the; best pistol-shot an’ swordsman in, the | spiggoty army.” “What kind of looking man is thls Benevides, my friend?” “A tall, thin young man, wit' a dude’s moustache an’ a diamond ring | on his right hand. He do be \vhiter! nor most. Have a care would ye meet | him, around the city an’ let him pick | An’ have a care, sor, | would ye go out av a night” | “Thank you, Don Juan, You're thal soul of kindness. What else do youl know | “Well,” Don Juan replied with a! naive grin, “I did know somethin’ else, but shure, Misther Geary advised me to forget it. Web: or Cafetero's shoulder. “Don Juan,” he d gentdy, “I'm going back to the Would you like to come with me?” Don Juan’s watery eyes grew a shade mistier, if possible. He shook his head. sor,” he replied, “no wan pays any at- tintion to me, but in America they'd give me ten days in the hoosegow wanst a week. Thank you, sor, but I'll shtay heve till the finish.” ! He knew the strength of the De- ! mon and had long since ceased to fight even a rear-guard action. put a hand under the stubby chin and tilted Don Juan's head sharply. “Hold up your head,” he commanded. “You're the first of your breed I ever saw who would admit he was whipped. | Here's five dollars for you—five dol- lars gold. Take it and return with the piece intact to-morrow morning, Don Juan Cafetero.” Don Juan Cafetero's wondering slance met Webster's directly, wavered, sought the ground, but at a jerk on his chin came back and—stayed. Thus for at least ten seconds they gazed at each other; then Webster “Thank you,” he said. “Me name is John J. Cafferty,” the lost one quavered. “Round one for Cafferty,” Webster laughed. “Good-bye now, until nine to-morrow. Ill expect you here, John, without fail.” And he took the derc- | lict’s hand and wrung it heartily. “Well,” Webster remarked humor- ' ously to Dolores as he held out his cup for more tea, “if I'm not the ori- ginal Tumble Tom, I hope I may never | sce the back of my neck.” “Do you attach any importance to Don Juan’s story?’ she asked anx- fously. “Yes, but not so much as Don Juan does. 1 greatly fear I have managed to snarl myself up in a Sobrantean political intrigue,” when I haven't the slightest interest either way. How- ever, that's only one more reason why I should finish my work here and get back to Denver.” “But how did all this happen, Mr. Webster?” N “Like shooting fish in a dry lake, Miss Ruey,” Webster replied, and re- lated to her in detail the story of his adventure with the Sobrantean as- sassins in Jackson square and his sub- sequent meeting with Andrew Bowers aboard La Lstrellita. Dolores laughed long and heartily as Webster finished his humorous recital. “Billy told me God only made oune Jack Webster and then destroyed the mold; I believe Billy is right. But do tell me what became of this extra- ordinary and unbidden guest.” “The night the steamer arvived in port, Billy and Don Juan came out in a launch to say ‘Ilello, so I seized upon the opportunity to tell Andrew to jump overboard and swim to the launch. Gave him a little note to Billy—carried it In his mouth—in- | strueting Billy to do the right thing him—and Billy did it. I don’t what Andrew is up to and I Where I was raised we let All 1 hope is that they don’t shoot Andrew. by know don’t care. i“—two of them, in fact. I was wit’ him in lllei Taunch last night.” | stepped out of the veranda ! nd laid a friendly hand on Don Juan | “Whin I'm dhrunk here, | Webster | Likewise a free agent.” “I'll go with you.” 1 thought so. For what hour shall I order the carriage?” “Seven-thir Acter all; they’ll not re to murder you on the Malecon.”! “[ agree with you. It will have to, be done very quickly, if at all. You've| been mighty nice to me this after- noon, seeress; I shall be grateful right to the mement of dissolution.”; “'Speak softly but carry a. big stick,” she warned him. “A Dbig gun,” he corrected her, da; | | T not going to She: “Sensible man’ worry about you, Mr. Webster.” nodded her permission for him to re- tire, and as he walked down the ver- anda gad iato the hotel, her glance followed him’ with pardonable femi- nine curiosity, marking the breadth of his » shoulders, the quick, springy stride, the alert, crect poise of hisi head on the powerful neck. i “A doer of deeds are you, John{ Stuart Webster,” she almost whisper- | ed. “As Kipling would say: ‘Wallah!} But you are a man?"" H A stealthy footstep sounded below | the veranda: she turned and beheld | Don Juan Cafetero, his hat in his left hand, in his right a gold-piece which | he lheld toward her. | “Take it, allanah,” he wheezed in | | his hoarse, drunkard’s whisper. “Keep | | it f'r me till to-morrow, for sorra wan | { av me can I trust to do that same— | an’ be the same token I can't face that | big man wit'out it.” | { .*“Why not, Don Juan?” He hung his red head. *“I dunno, Miss,” he replied miserably. “Maybe ’tis on account av him—the eye av him—the way av him—divil such a | man did T ever meet—God bless him{ Shure, Misther Geary do be'the fine lad, but he—he—" “Mr. Geary never put a big fore- finger under your chin and bade you hold up your head. Is that it?” ““Tis not what he did, Miss but the way he did it. All the fiends av hell "Il be at me this night to shpend what he | give me—and I—I'm afraid—" He broke off, mumbling and chatter- ing like a man in the grip of a great terror. In his agony of body and i spirit, Dolores could have wept for Don Juan Cafetero, for in that su- | preme moment the derelict’s soul was | bare, revealing something pure and | sweet and human, for all his degrada- | | tion. IMow did Jack Webster know? wondered Dolore: And why did bhe so confidently give an order to this | human flotsam and expect i€ to be obeyed? And why did Don Juan Cafetero come whining to her for strength to help him obey it? “That wouldn't be playing the game,” she told him. “I can't help you deceive him, You are the first of your breed—" | “Don’t say it he cried. “Didn't | he-tell me wanst?” i “Then make the fight, Don—Mr. | Cafferty.” She lowered ler voice. “I am depending on you to stay sober and guard him. He needs a faithful friend so badly, now that Mr. Geary | is away,” She patted the grimy hand | and left him staring at the ground. Presently he sighed, quivered horribly, | and shambled out of the patio on to the firing-line. And when he reported to Jack Webster at nine o'clock next morning, he was sober, shaking hor- ribly and on the verge of delirium tremens, but: tightly clasped in his right hand he held that five-dollar piece. Dolores, who had made it her business to be present at the inter- view, heard John Stuart Webster say heartily : “The finest thing about a terrible fight, friend Cafferty, is that if it is a worth-while battle, the spoils of vic- | tory are exceedingly sweet. You are now about to enjoy one fourth of the | said spoils—a large jolt of aguard- lente! You must have it to steady your nerves. Go to the nearest can- tina and buy one drink; then come back with the change. By that time I shall have breakfasted and you and I will then go shopping. At noon you shall have another drink; at four o'clock another; and just before re- tiring you shall have the fourth and last for this.day. Remember, Caf- ferty: one jolt—no more—and then back here with the exact change.” As Don Juan scurried for tion, Webster turned to Dolores. “He’ll fail me now, but that will not be his fault but mine. I've set him too great a task in his present condition. Never- theless, to use a colloquial expression, s put where he'll not Out With me this evening.” the Intilligince bureau at a alon If they do, I fear I'll weep. He’s cer- tainly a skookum lad. Do you know, | I have the Cafferty goat—and I'm go- | ing to keep it.” Miss Ruey, I love anybody that can im- | pose on me—make a monkey out of | Webster went immediately to his me, in t—and make me like it?” | room, called for pen and paper, and “That’s so comforting,” she remark- | broceeded at once to do that which he ed dryly. had never done before—to wit, pre- Webster looked at her sharply, sus- | pare his last will aud testament. In a few brief paragraphs he made a holographic will and split his bank- roll equally between the two human | beings he cared for most—Billy Geary 1 told you this afternoon when I read | and Dolores Ituey. “Bil's a gambler your palm,” she added. | like me,” he ruminated; “so I'll play “You didn’t know how truly you |Safe. The girl is a conservative, and oke when you referred to the dark after Bill's wad is gone, he'd be boiled n that nad crossed my path, He's | in oil before he'd prejudice hers.” uncomtortably real—drat him?!” | Having niade his will, Webster “Then you are really concerned?” | madea copy of it. The copy he placed “Not at all, but I purpose sleeping in an envetope marked: “For Jack. | with one cye open. I shan’t permit |Not to be opened until after my | myself to feel conéerned until they | death.” This envelope he then enclosed | send more than two men after me— |10 & larger one and mailed to Billy at™; v cight or ten.” ! Calle de Concordia No. 19. H His indifference appalled her; she | Having made his few simple pre- leaned forward impulsively and laid a | parations for death, Mr. Webster next hand on his forearm. “But you must |burrowed in his trunk, brought. forth heed Don Juau' ning,” she de- his big army-type automatic pistol clared seriously. ou must not go : and secured it fn a holster under his| out alone at night.” arm, for he deemed it unwise and pro- vocative of curiosity to appear in im- maculate ducks that bulged at the right hip. Next he filled two spare | clips with cartridges and slipped them into his pocket, thus completing his | “Very well: then I shail drive out| f¢W Simple preparations for life. | ; He glanced out the window at the | sun. There would still be an hour of piciopsly; her words were susceptible of a dual interpretation. Her next sentence, however, dissipated this im- pression. “Because it confirms what | | i | i | | He grinned boyishly. “Of course| not. Miss Ruey. You're going to ride “I'm not. I'li not subject you to| “You're a despot, Mr. Webster, slight; so he descended to the lobby, | called a ! drive. Returning to the hotel he dismissed the earringe, climbed the three short steps to the entrance and was passing through the revolving portal, when from his rear some one gave the door a violent shove, with the result that the turnstile partition Lehind him collided with his back with sufficient force to throw him against the part- tion in front. Instantly the door ceased to pivot, with Webster locked neatly in the triangular space be- tween the two sections of the revol- ving door and the jamb. A He turned and beheld in the sec- tion behind him~ an officer of the Sobrantean army. This mdlvidua.l! observing he was under Webster's serutiny, scowled and peremptorily motioned to Webster to proceed— which the latter did, with such vio- lence that the door, continuing to re- volve, canght up with the Sobrantean and’ subjected him to the same in- dignity to which he bad subjected Webster. ¢ Once free of the door, Webster waited just inside the lobby for the Sobrantean to conclude his precipi- tate entrance. When he did, Webster looked him over with mild curiosity and bowed with great condescension. “Did any gentleman ever tell the senor that he is an ill-mannered monkey?” he queried coolly in excel- lent Spanish. “If not, I desire to give the senor that information, and to tell him that his size alone prevents me from giving him a nice little spank- ing.” '“pig!” the rude one answered hotly. His olive- features paled with anger, he trembled with emotion and seemed undecided what to do—seeing which | Webster grinned at him tantalizingly. That decided him. No Latin-Ameri- can, with the exaggerated ego of his race, can bear even a suspicion of ridicule. The officer walked' fiercely toward Webster and swung his arm toward the latter’s face in an effort to land a slap that was “meant.” Webster merely threw back his head - and avoided the blow; his long left arm shot out and Dbeat down the Solfrantean’s guard; then Webster's right hand closed around the officer’s collar. “Come to me thou insolent ;Httle one,” he crooned, and jerked his assailant toward him, gathered him up in his arms, carried him, kicking Soused Him in the Fountain. and screaming with futile rage, out/ into the patio and soused him in the fountain. . “Now, then, spitfire, that will cool your hot head, I trust,” he admonish- ed his unhappy victim, and returned to the hotel. At the desk he paused. “Who was that person I just bath- ed?” he inquired of the excited clerk. “Ah, senor, you shall not long be kept in ignorance,” that functionary informed him. “That is the terrible Captain Benavides—" “Do you know, I had a notion it was he?” Webster replied ruminatively. “Well, I suppose I'm in for a duel now,” he added to himself as he climbed the stairs to his room, *“I think that will be most interesting.” John Stuart’ Webster changed into dry clothing and descended to the dining-room. Miss Ruey was already deated at her table and motioned him to the seat opposite her, and as he sat down with a contented little sigh, she gazed at him with a newer and more alert interest. “I hear you've been having adven- tures again,” she challenged. “The news is all over the hotel. I heard it from the head waiter.” “Coffee and pistols for two at day- Iight,” he answered cheerily. “By the way, I have made my will, just to be on the safe side. Will you be good encugh to take charge of it until after the funeral? You can turn it over to Billy then.” She fell readily into the bantering spirit with which he treated this se- | rious subject. Indeed, it was quite im- possible to do otherwise, for John Stuart Webster's personality radiated such a feeling of security, of absolute, wi%ounded confidence In the future and disdain for whatever of good Yortune or 1l the future might entail, that Dolores found it impossible not to as: ate his mood. At seven-thirty, after a delightful dinner, the memory of which Mr. Webster was certain would linger un- der his foretop long after every other memory had departed, he escorted her to the -open carriage_he had (Continued on Page 5)