The Bismarck Tribune Newspaper, August 4, 1917, Page 4

putt Nhe! che MA'S8nathr King of Ulgh THE TRIBUNE Entered at the Prstoffice, Bismarck, N. ., an Secoud Class Matter, (S8UBD EVERY DAY EXCEr 7 SUNDAY SUBSCRIPTION RATES PAYABLE IN ADVANCE Deily, North Dakota, mail ‘outside of “North Daily, al outside” of Ni + mail” outside ° o! Delo three months Weekly, by mail, per year. ae } LOGAN PAYNE ‘Boectal Moraiga Representative NEW YORK, Fifth Ave. Bldg.; CHICAGO, Marquette Bidg.; BOSTON, Bt; DETROIT, Kresge Bldg.; APOLIS, 810 Lumber Exchange. dit Bureau of Circulation — T oe KR eee = WEATHER REPORT for 24 hours ending at noon Aug. 4. ‘Temperature at 7 a. m. Temperature at noon Highest yesterday . Lowest yesterday Lowest last night Precipitation . Highest wind elocity .. Forecast for North Dakota: Generally fair to- night and Sunday; warmer tonight; somewhat Sunday west portion. Lowest Temperatures 64 Fargo Williston ... Grand Forks Pierre St. Paul ... ‘Winnipeg Helena .. Chicago .. Swift Current . Kansas City . ‘San Francisco . ORRIS W. ROBERTS, Meteorogolist. wee ooo ete “He that lives upon hopes will “ % die fasting —Franklin. WANT THEIR PORK. There are two kinds of bills which come up in the United States senate, that are invariably passed by a large majority, that are really a national scandal because they involve a waste SATURDAY, AUGUST 4, 1917. ‘NOBLE WORDS. In these days of subtle’ influences against this government and its war, when many German-Americans have displayed themselves all German and not American at all, except that they made their fortunes here, people often wonder what the old Germans of 1848 would say. They were the Germans who came to this country because they could} 4 not make Germany free, the Germans who bravely fought armies to preserve the union and free the blacks. One of the most noteble of these! was old Franz Sigel. The last speech he made to German-Americans was in German, and a paragraph bears upon this very subject. It almost appears as if the old sol- dier had a prophetic vision of what might happen and wanted to fore- warn his countrymen. His words might well be taken to heart by every man in this country with a drop of German blood; “Politically 1 am an American and nothing else; but | am proud to be a German. { would consider myself less than a man were I to forget the tremendous sacrifices made by the immigrant Germans in defense of their new father- land. Shall this blood have \ flowed in vain? Shall we now attack this country to which we gave all we had to give? ‘This country is our country, our inter- ests ure its interests. Here we are, here will our descendants be, here we shall stay. The union, now and forever‘” If a man can’t fervently echo the last three sentences he ought to leave this country. If he can't live up to the sentiment thus ‘phrased, he may be a citizen by birth or naturaliza- tion, but he is an enemy alien in heart and in fact. A bunch of heavily armed bandits break into some little hamlets. They of public money, and that are briefly described as “pork.” One of these bills provides-for the erection of handsome government buildings in obscure villages and ham- lets. As most of the senators are taken care of in this kind of measure, most of them close their eyes to the, iniquity att Wbteltbe st. ‘The ‘other TAPASUTA Lh KHOWN (AS the rivers and harbors appropriation bill. Amid some things that are good, there are abund- ance of items that are almost total waste of money. (No one objects to the great streams like the Ohio and Mississippi, being improved, nor to dredging:and perfecting the deep har- bors on the sea coast and the Great Lakes, where there is really shin-born traffic. But, cunningly placed in the meas- ure with these necessary things, there _prealwaya licms ior the improvement of obscure streams. So much is, Unis in opposing this’ graft, said earnestly in the senate that for two’ days he had his secretary and others at work trying in vain to find upon the map, atlases and other publications the creeks, bays, swamps, pools and what not for which appropriations were sought. Opposition to this kind of pork bill is nearly always futile/ One of the senators, who valiantly fought it, real ized the hopelessness of his fight when he said that he could stand on the floor and talk until he was black ~in the face and every ‘other erator opposed to the indefehistbts' ‘items in the bill could do the same thing, but that when it came to a vote the major- ity would come to the scratch and put the measure over, And his prediction came true, only 11 senators being brave enough to say that in a time of war, when every penny counted, $28,000,000 should not be devoted to “pork.” Two out of every nine doctors will be drafted. Probably meaning, a cynte suggests, that a great many undertal- ers will have to go out of business. STUDY THE ANTS! Do ants keep cows? They do! Philosophers often have said the economy and industry of ants can't be beat, and it is a shrewd guess that they are right. The American gardener, however, will be little bothered by this highly developed kind of ants, for they are tropical white ants, known as ter- mites. There are more than 100 kinds of insects that live in nests of ants—in the nests of black ants common here, as well as in nests of tropical ants. But the tropical ants seem to have got things down to a most efficient system, These termites keep a kind of bee- tle in their nests, guarding them jeal- ously. The “cows” are of one of these tribes of beetles. These “cows” have tufts of hair, licked by the ants. A pleasant (presumably) secretion is thus provided. The ants have the “cows” well trained, for it is established that the “cows” will call the ants to dinner by tapping them with antennae at feeding time. kill some of the peaceful inhabitants They outrage the women, torture and kill the old men and mutilate the children. They burn homes and loot everything. Hl A general alarm is sent throughout | the countryside. Police and citizens rush to the rescue. Their desire is te! hake the law supreme—to put down,, murder and outrage, and theft and arson. Wyasan in the ‘fighting. representatives of law and order are/shot down. Many of the bandits aré also killed and vounded. In addition, a state of siege is be- gun. The bandits have a base, a sup- ply of food and ammunitions, and some more is smuggled to them. But the cutlaws realize that sooner or later they must, surrender. Some of their:iown “men are whimpering for pedve.” \Wheretipon the bandit leaders suf! to the representatives of the law: “Why keep up this costly fight which can only result in more dead and wounded? You see we are in actual possession of many villages. You can’t dislodge us. “Regardless of how this thing orig- inally started, let us get together and make peace. Of course, uneonquered, we must not be punished. “Our mur- ders must not be avenged. We must} not be compelled to resiore to you our loot or repair the damage.” Police and citizens, who know their jobs, will naturally reply: “There can be no end to this fight save your surrender. The law must rule There can be no repetition of this reign of terror. You must pay. To let you go free now, your hands red, your pockets stuffed, would be to encourage you to try the same thing again.” That in homely, everyday language is the case of the allies versus the kaisers. Like the bandits, the armies of the kaisers broke into Belgium, France, Serbia, Rumania and Russia. They committed all the crimes in the calendar, until all the great law-abid- ing nations were arrayed against them. Like the bandits, the kaiserists are not only enduring battles but a state of siege. They feel hunger. They realize in the end thy must lose. Their own followers whimper for peace. To satisfy them the spokesmen for Cermany and Austria are once more making specious .peace pleas. They want a peace which will not punish. They want a peace that will not pen- alize for their horrible murders. They want a peace that will not compel them to return their loot. They want a peace which will leave them where they started before the war began— in a position to start it all over again as soon as they catch their breath. That is the meaning of the concert- ed action by which Chancellor Georg Michaelis of Germany and Count Czer- nin are talking peace to the world. Their cunning web of lies and int gue my take in their own people— but not the allies or America. Before we talk of peace we must take from Germany and Austria the power ever to plunge the world into another war. And that means grinding into powder their military machines and render- in the union; oP wie 2y E.PHILLIPS 0 SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I—On a trip through the English Cumberlan-! country the ‘breakdown of her zutomobile forces Loulse Maurel, a ious London ac- tress, to spend the niht at the farm home of John and Stephen Strange- wey. CHAPTER JI—At dinner Louise di covers that the brothers are woman- hating recluses. CHAPTER II]—Next morning she discovers that John, the younger brother, has recently come-into a Jarge fortune. In company with him she explores the farm. CHAPTER IV—an a talk’ with him she is disturbed by his rigid moral principles and finds that his wealth has created no desire for any other life than the simple one he is leadiug. She tells him her name and that she is the friend of the prince of Seyre, a rich and disreputable neighbor. CHAPTER V-—Three months later, unable to rid himself of the memory of the actress and in spite of his brother's .protests, John goes to Lon- don. * CHAPTER VI—He finds Louise en- gaged in the rehearsal of a new play, meets her friends and is entertained at luncheon with her by the prince. ‘CHAPTER VI{[—John drives Sophy home and gives him ‘friendly advice about love and lift ‘n London. The prince’ and Louise postpone a little journey they had airateed for. CHAPTER TX—vhe' prince.’ takes John under his social care. Craillot, the playwright, warn: Louise that. Goth the prince and Jolin love her and that’ the prince will be a dangerous enemy to his rival. CHAP’ .it X—The prince intro- duces a relative, Lady Hilda, to John, hinting that she may be of use to him in his “education” of John. CHAPTER XI—At Seyre House John is introduced to a celebrated dancer, Culavera, who at once starts a violent flirtation with him. At sup- per the prince tells Calavera that en- mity for John has caused him to em- ploy her to ruin him. wCHAPTER XII—Calavera dances forthe supper party and afterward entices John to her, but he leaves her and the house. CHAPTER XIII—John tells Louise that he came to London for her and for her alone. Ijouise pleads for time. CHAPTER XIV—Graillot inadvert- ently plants suspicion in John’s mind. Lady Hilda calls upon him in his rooms and attempts tirtation with him, her talk of Louise and the prince further increasing his awakened jeal ousy. ‘CHAPTER XV—Dining with Sophy, Louise and the prince appear in the restaurant, to the surprise of John, whom Louise had told she would be out of town for the week-end. He at- tends the first night of the new play lat the climax is so shocked that he leaves the house. Sophy follows and brings him back to the after-the- ater supper. CHAPTER XVI—Stephen Stange. wey comes to London to see the new play. CHAPTER XViI—Stephen calls on Louise and offers to buy his brother's freedom from her influence. John per- suades the prince to withdraw an invi tation to Seyre House he has gi to Louise, on the plea that it will com- promise her. . GHAPTER XVIIT—Louis acknowl edges. John that she loves him. The prince proposes marriage to her and she tells, him he is too late. CHAPTER XIX—John asks Sophy if Louise has ever cared, for the prince, and she advises, him to .ask louise herself the que: CHAPTER’ XX. The ten minutes passed very much too quickly. She was gone, and John, thrilled though he was through all his senses by the almost passionate fervor of her leave-taking, found himself once more confronted by that little black demon. There was something about all of them, all these people whom he knew to be bis friends, which seemed to him to savor of a conspira- cy. There was nothing that could be put into definite shape—just the ghost of torturing, impossible thoughts. He was in no humor to go home. Chang- ing the order he had first given to the chauffeur, he was driven instead to a small Bohemian club which he had joined at Gralllot’s instigation. He had a vague hope that he might find the great dramatist there. here were no signs of him, however, in the smok- ing room, or anyone else whom John knew. He threw himself into an easy chair and ordered a whisky-and-soda. Two men close at hand were writing at desks; others were lounging about, discussing the evening’s reception. One man, sitting upon the table, a recog- nized authority, was treating the com- pany to a fluent dissertation upon modern actresses, winding up by con- trasting Louise Maurel’s style ‘with that of her chief French rival, John found himself listening with pleased interest. The man’s opinion was cer- tainly not umfavorable to Loulse. “It is only in the finer sNades of emotionalism,” the critic declared, “that these French actresses get at us a little more completely even than Louise Maurel. Do you know the rea- son? I'll tell you. It is because they live the life, They have a dozen new emotions in a season. They make a cult of feeling. They use their brains to dissect their passions, They cut thelr own life into small pieces and give us the result without conceal- ing the kaisers impotent. manta That is where they score, if E TRAITOR? ey Etc anywhere, This Mme. Latrobe, who opens over. here tomorrow night, is in love at the present moment with Jean Yourbet. She had an affair with that Italian poet in the summer, so they tell me, She was certainly in Madrid in October with Bretoldi, the sculp- tor, These men are ull great artists. Think what she must have learned from associating with them! Now Louise Maurel, so far as we know, has never had but one affair, the prince of Seyre, and has been faithful to him all the time.” Tt was out at last! John had heard It spoken in plain words. The black demon upon which his hand had lain so heavily, was alive now, without a doubt, jeering at him, mocking at him —alive and self-assertive in the sober words of the elderly, well-bred man who lounged upon the table. For a moment or two John was stunned, A wild impulse assailed him to leap up and confront them all, to choke the ‘He back down the throat of the man who had uttered it, Every nerve In his body was tingling with the desire for action, The stupor of hig senses alone kept him motionless, and a strange, incomprehensible ¢lar- ity of thought, He realized exactly how things were. This man had not spoken’ idly, or as a scandalimonger. He had spoken what he had accepted as a fact, what other people believed. John rose to his feet and made his way toward the door. His face showed little sign of disturbance. He even nodded to some men whom he knew slightly. As he passed down the stairs, he met Graillot. Then once more his self-control became in danger. He seized the Frenchman savagely by the arm. “Come this way,” he sald, leading him toward the card-room, “Come in here! I want to speak to you.” He locked the door—a most un- heard-of and irregular proceeding. Graillot felt the coming of the storm. “Well!” he exclaimed grimly. “Trou- ble already, eh?.,I see it in your face, young man.. Out with it!” “I was sitting in the smoking room there, a few moments ngo,” he began, jerking his head toward the door, “There were some men talking—de- cent fellows, not dirty scandul-mon- gers. They spoke of Louise Maurel.” Graillot nodded gravely. He knew very well what was coming. John felt hisy throat. suddenly dry. The words ig,'would have spoken choked him. HE banged his fist upon the table by the side of which they were standing. “Look, here, Graillot,” he cried, al- most piteously, “you know it is not true, nor likely tobe true! Can't you say 80?” “Stop, my young friend!” the Frenchman: j: terrupted. “I know noth- Ing. It 1s a hubit of mine to know nothing ‘when pédple make suggestions of that sort. I make no inquiries, I necept life and people as I find them.” “But you don’t believe that such a thing could be possible?” “Why not?” Graillot asked steadily. John could do-no more than mum- ‘le a repetition of his words, ‘The world was falling away from him, “T will not discuss this matter with you, my friend. 1 will only ask you to remember the.views 6f the world in “Look Here, Gralllot, You Know It Is Not True.” which we live. Loulse Maurel is an artist, a great artist. If there has been such an affair as you suggest, be- tween her and any man, if It were something which appealed to her af- fections, it {s my opinion that she would not hesitate, You seem to phink it an outrageous thing that the prince should have been her lover. ‘To be perfectly frank, I do not. I should be very much more surprised at her mar- riage.” John made his escape somehow. He remembered opening the door, but he had no recollection of reaching the street. A few minutes later, however, he found himself. striding down Ple- cadilly toward Hyde Park corner, He found a taxicab and was driven toward the Milan, He was conscious of a wild desire to keep away from his rooms, Every pulse in his body was tingling. He was fiercely awake, eager for motion, action, excitement of any sort. Suddenly he remembered the.night club to which be bad heen He Wants‘a n. “Honorable’’ Peace! tutrodticed by Sophy on the ‘first night of his arrival in London. The ad- dress, too, was there quite clearly in his disordered brain, He leaned out of the cab and repeated it to the driv- er. The little place was unexpectedly crowded when he entered, after hav- ing handed his hat and coat to a vestinire, A large supper party wei going on at the farther end,,and the dancing space was smaller ‘than! usu- ul. ‘The maitre @hotel was escorting Jenn to a small table in a distant corner, which had just been vacated, when the latter heard his name sud- denly called by a famillar voice, So- phy, who had been dancing, aban- loned her partner precipitately’ and came hurrying up to John.with out- stretched hands, “John!” she exclaimed. “You, of ul people in the world!) What do you mean by caming here alone at this time of night? Fancy not telling me! Is anything the matter?” “Nothing,” he replied. “I really don’t exactly know why I am here. I simply don’t want to go to bed)” “Where is the prince?” he asked. Soph: struck” by something in his voice, swung around and looked at him, Then she thrust both her arms through his, clasped her two hands t her, and led him firmly away. A glimmering of the truth was begin- ning to dawn upon her, “Tell me where you have been since you left the reception,” she insisted, when at last they were seated to- gether, “Walt till T wine,” he said. A waiter served them with cham- pagne. When John’s glass was filled, he drained ‘its ‘contents. | Sophy Watched him with surprise. She came a little closer to him. “John,” she whispered, “you must tell me—do you hear? You must tell me everything! Did you take Louise home?” “Yes.” “What happened, then? You didn’t quarrel with her?” “Nothing at all happened,” he as- sured her. “We parted the best of friends, It wasn’t that.” “Then what? Remember that I am your friend, John, dear. Tell me ev- erything.” “I will tell you,” he assented. “I went to a little club I belong to on the Adelphi Terrace. I sat down in the smoking room. There was no one there I knew. Some men were talk- Ing. They had been to the reception tonight. They were comparing French actresses and English. They spoke first of the French woman, Latrobe, and her lovers; then of Louise. They spoke. quite calmly, ke men @iscuss- ing history. They compared the two actresses, they compared their lives. Latrobe, they said, had lovers by the score—Louise only one.” Sophy’s hand stole Into his, She was watching the twisting of his fea- tures. She understood so well the ex- cltement underneath. “I think I can guess,” she whis- pered. “Don’t hurt yourself telling me. Something was said about the prince!” His eyes blazed down upon her. “You, too?" he muttered. “Does the whole world know of it and speak as if it did not matter? Sophy, is it true?. Speak out! Don’t be afraid of hurting me. You call yourself my friend. T've been down, looking at the outside of her house. I dared not go in, There's a fire burning in my soul! * Tell me {f it is true!” “You must not ask me that ques: tion, John,” she begged. “How should I know? Besides, these things are sc different in our world, the world you haven't found out much about yet. have ordered some | Supposing . it svere .true, . John,” -.she went on, “remember that it’ Was Be fore you knew her. Supposing it jshould be true, remember this—your idea of life is too absurd. Is one creed made to fit human beings who may differ in a million different ways? A Woman may be us good as any ever born into the world, and yet take just a little love into her Iife, if she be true and faithful in doing it. I don’t believe there is a dearer or sweeter woman breuthing thin Louise, bit: one must have love. Don’t I know itt A man may be ‘strong enough to live without it, but a \oman—never!” The skirts of, the women brushe¢ their table as they danced, the rhythin of the music ime and fell above the murmur of Inighter and conversation, John looked around the room, and a sort of @espair crept in upon him, It was no good! Le had come to Lon- don to understand; he understood nothing. He was made of the wrong fiber, If only ‘he could change hiin- self! If it were not too lute! If he could mak’ himself like other men’! “T must not asi you any Tore ques, ‘tions, Sophy,” hé sald. “You ure her friend, and you have spout very sweetly, Tomorrow I will go and see her.” 2 | | “And tonight, forget it all,”.she pleaded. “Wipe it out of your mem- ory. Tonight she is not here, and 1 am. Even if you are furiously in love with her, there isn't any harm in your being just a little nice to me. Give me sume champagne; and I want some caviar sandwiches ! “I wonder why you are so good to me, Sophy!” he exclaimed, us he gave the order to a waiter. “You ought either to marry your young man down at Bath, or to have a sweetheart of your own, @ companion, some one quite different.” “How different?” “Someone who cared for you as you deserve to be cared for, and whom you cared for, too.” “I cannot take thesé things as light- ly as I used to,” she answered a little sadly. “Something hus come over me lutely—I don’t know what it is—but I seem to bave lost my taste for flir- tations, John, don’t look up, don’t turn round! TI have been afraid of the prince all the evening. When you came in, I fancied that you had been drinking. When the prince asked me something about you, an hour or so ago, I knew that he had. I saw him Uke it once before, about a year ago. Don't take any notice of him! Don’t talk to him, if you can at all help it!” Toward their table the prince was slowly aking hig way, skilfully avoid- Ing the dancers, yet looking neither to the right nor to the left, His eyes were fastened upon John. If he had been drinking, as Sophy suggested, there were few signs of it. His walk was steady; his bearing, as usual, de- berate and distinguished. He came to a standstill beside them. Sophy’s fingers clutched at the table- cloth. The prince looked from one to the other, “You have robbed me of a guest, Mr. Strangewey,” he remarked ; “but I bear you no ill-will. It is very seldom that one sees you in these haunts of dissipation.” “It is a gala night with me,” John replied, his tone raised no more than usual, but shaking with some new quality. “Drink a glass of wine with me, prince,” he invited, taking the bottle from the ice-pail and filling a tumbler upon the table. “Wish me luck, won't you? I am engaged to be married!” “[ wish you happiness with all my heart,” the prince answered, holding his glass up. ‘ay I not know the name of the lady?” “No.doubt you are prepared for the news,” John told him. “Miss Maurel has promised to become my wife.” ..,The prince’s hand was as steady as RL Te ‘{ drink to you both with the great- est of pleasure,” he said, looking John full in the face, “It*is a most remark- | able coincidence. Tonight is the an- | niversary of the night when Louise Maurel pledged herself to me.” ; -John’s frame seemed for’a moment {to dilate, and fire flashed from his eyes. “Will you be good enough to explain those words?” he demanded, 4a The pripcesbowed, . He glanced to- ward Soph¥ysia sanensi4 “Sinceyou ingist"he-replied. “To- night, then, let me tell you, 1s the an- niversary of the night when Louise Manrel consented to‘ become my—” What followed came like a thunder- clap. The prince ‘reeled back, his hand to ‘his ‘iouthi;’ blood dropping upon the tablecloth from his Mps, where Joho had struck him. He made a sudden spring at his aSsailant. Sophy, shriek- ' tng, leaped to her feet. Everyone else in the. place seemed paralyzed with wonder. John seizod the prince:by. the throat, and held: fim fora! momént.‘at/arm’s length, Then hedifted hitd off:his feet as one might’ lift ‘a chfld from the The Prince Reeled Back. floor. Holding his helpless victim in a merciless grip, he carried him across the room and deliverately flung him over the table toward his empty chair. Sophy held John by the arm, clutch- ing it hysterically, striving to drag him away. But to John the room was empty. He stood there, a giant, mo- tionless figure, his muscles still taut, his face tense, his eyes aflame, glar- ing down at the prostrate figure of the man on whom he had wreaked the accumnlated fury of these last days and weeks of madness. (To be continued.) State Commissioner Publishes Paper; Two Boys in the Draft Missoula, Mont; Aug. 4.—E. B. Craighead, commissioner of education of North Dakota and former president | of the University of Montana at Mis- sonla, has assumed the active manage- ment of the New Northwest, his two sons, Edward and Barctay Craighead, having been drafted for the national army. The former already has enlist- ed in the Montana national guard. MRS. VICK CHAIRMAN M H. G. Vick of Pembina, prom- inent-in the North Dakota Federation of Woman's clubs, has been named chairman for North Dakota by the woman's committee of the council of national defense. v an