Evening Star Newspaper, May 15, 1897, Page 18

ep Ay ; THE THREE fe) SAAC (Copyright, 1897, CD NONONONO NONI Chapter IV—Continaed from last Sat- . urday. The dictation and copy finished together mmorest lail the freshly written sheet be- Mae the letter Stacy had produced. They were very much alike, and yet quite dis- tinct from each other. Only the signature identical. wecThat's the invariable mistake with the forger.” said Demorest; “he always forgets that signatures ought to be identical with the text rather than with each other. But Stacy did not seem to hear this or require further proof. His face was quite xray and his Ips compressed until lost in his closely set beard as he gazed fixedly out of the window. For the first time really concerned and touched, Demorest jild his hand gently on his shoulder. “Tell me, Jim, how much does this mean to you—apart from me? Don't think of me.” I don’t know yet,” sald Stacy slowly. ‘That's the trouble. And I won't know until I know who's at the bottom of it. Does anybody know of your affairs with mer one. © confidential friend, eh? ‘one.’ 3 ‘0 one who has access to your secrets? —no—weman? Excuse me, Phil,” he -uliar look passed over Demor- ‘but this is business.” “No,” he returned, with that gentleness at used to frighten them in the old days. ignorance. You fellows always say rehez Ia femme’ when you can't say ything else. Come, now,” he went or seiprightiy, “look ‘at the letter. Here's a man commercially educated, for he has used the vsual business formulas. ‘on re ceipt of this’ and ‘advices received” which I won't merely say I den’t use. but which y few but commercial men use. Next, here’ a man who uses slang, not only inaptl. but artificially, to give the letter the easy. | familiar turn it hasn't from beginning to | end. I need only say, my dear Stacy, tha I don't write slang to you, but that nobod: who understands slang ever writes it in that way. And then the krowledge of my | opinion of Barker is such as might be gained from the reading of my letters by a person who couldn't comprehend my feel- } ing: Now, let me play inquisitor for a few moment: Has anybody access to my est you?” No one I keep them locked up in a} cabinet. I only make memorandums of | pur instructions, which I give to my cierks, | never your letters.” But vour clerks somet emorandums from them Mayes: but none of them have the ability io this sort of thing, nor the oppo! of profiting by it. nan—now this is not re- Jim, for I fancy I 4 an's cleverness and a woman in this forgery—any access to letters? ctive for es see you make tect stupidity screts or my a wo! A woman's ne moment, your look : 's face was quite a: pe distinct as Dem- | previous protest as he said con-} T’m not such a fool as to} ticoats with my business, what- one thing more. I have told you | that in my opinion the forger has a com- ial education or style, that he doesn’t | nor Barker, and doesn’t under- | Now. I have to add what urred to you, Jim, that the | is either a coward or his object Is | altogether mercenary, for the same | displayed in this letter would on the | signature alone—had it been on a check or draft—drawn from your bank twenty times amount concerned. Now, what is the | al loss by this forgery ‘Very little; for you've got a good price for your stocks, considering the deprecia- tion in realizing suddenly on so large aa amou I told my broker to sell slowly, 1 in small quantities to avoid a panic. the real loss is the control of the Bu stock.” But the amount I had was not enough to affect that,” said Demorest. No, but I was carrying myself a large amount, and together we controlled the market, and now I have unloaded, too.” You sold out; and with your doubts?” seid Demorest “That's j id Stacy, looking stead- ily at h anion’s face, “because I had dcubts, won't do for me to have either to have disobeyed d kept ycur stocx and my own e just what I did. I might have hedged on my own stock, but I don’t be- lieve in hedging. There is no middle course to a man in my business if he wants to reat success, no created by it.” Yet you cept the al- . which is ruin said Stacy. “When you re- terned the other day you were bound ty ft ne at I was or a beggar. But However,” he added, g to do with the forger: grimly, “everything to do Hush! Barker is ng. re was a quick p along the corridor ching the room. The next moment open to the bounding step ghing face of Barker. Whatever of ulness or despondency he had car- ried from the room with him was com- pletely gone. With his amazing buc and power of reaction he was ther again in his usual frank, cheerful simplictty. “I thought I'd come in and say ‘good night he began with a laugh. “I got ‘Sta’ asleep after some high jinks we had together, and then I reckoned it wasn’t the Square thing to leave just you two together the first night you came. And I remem- r The Big Strike on Heavy Tree Hill. Written for The Evening Star. BY BRET HABTE. ESEESESENENESESES LALLY | seemed to have unloaded, | up everything. | my hands and pay the margins.” | gasped out, | you bered I had some business to talk over, too, zo I thought I'd chip in again and take a hand. It’s only the shank of the evening Yet,” he continued gayly, “and we ought to “Yes, it is she.” sit up at least long enough to see the old srow line vanish, as we did in old times. But I say,” he added suddenly, as he glanced from the one to the other. “you've been having it pretty strong already. Why, you both look as you did that night the backwater of the South Fork came into our cabin. What's up?” “Nothing,” said Demorest. hastily, as he caught a glance of Stacy’s impatient face. “Only ail business is serious, Barker boy, though you don't seem to feel it so. Bee, — zeta Rg onmoe seid Bar- with a chuckle. “! Ne always laugh, of course, ‘when 1 talc business, 20 it might make it a little livelier for you and mere of a change if I chipped in now. Only I don't know which you'll do. Hand me a SS PARTNERS; by Bret Harte.) Pipe. Well,” he continued, filling the pipe Demorest shoved toward him, “you see, I was in Sacramento yesterday and I went into Van Loo’s branch office, as I heard he was there and I wanted to find out some- thing about Kitty’s investments, which I don't think he’s managing exactly right. He wasn’t there, however, but as I was friend and former partner has bought it in end sent up the price. A common ‘rick, a vulgar trick, byt not a trick worthy of James Stacy or Stacy’s bank!” “But why not simply declare the forgery without making any specific charge against Van Loo?” “De you imagine» Phil, that any man would believe it, and the story of a provi- dentially appointed partner like Barker,who saved us from loss? Why, all California, from Cape Mendocino to ios Angeles, would roar with laughter over it: No. We musi swallow it and the reputation of ‘jockeying’ with the wheat trust, too. That trust's as good as done for, for the present: Now you know why I didn’t want poor Barker to know it, nor have much to co with our search for the forger.”” “It would break the dear fellow’s heart if he knew it,” said Demorest. “Well, it is to save him from having his heart broken further that I intend to find out this forger,” said Stacy, grimly. “Good night, Phil. I'll telegraph to you when I want you, and then come!” With another grip of the hand he left Demorest to his thoughts. In the finst ex- cltement of meeting ‘his old partners, and in the later discovery of the forgery, De- morest had been diverted from his oid sor- row, and for the time had forgotten it in sympathetic interest with the present. But, to his horror, when alone he found that interest growing as remote-and vapid at the stories they had laughed over at the table, and even the excitement of the forged let- ter and its consequences began to be as —— HE WAS JUST EMERGING FROM THE Woop. waiting I heard his clerks talk about a Grop in the wheat trust, and that there was a lot of it put upon the market. They seem- ed to think that something had happened, and it was going down still further. Now, | I_knew it was Jim’s pet scheme, and that Pail had a lot of shares in it, too, so I just sipped out and wert to a broker's and told him to buy ail he could of it. And, by Jove! I was a little taken aback when I found what I was in for, for everybody and I found 1 hadn't money enough to pay margins, but I knew that Demorest was here, and I reck- oned on his secing me through.” He stop- ped and colored, but added hopefully: “I reckon I'm safe, anyway, for just as the thing was over those same clerks of Van Loo’s came bounding into the office to buy And offered to take it off “And you? a breath. Barker stared at them and reddened and paled by turrs. “I held on,” he stammer- ed. “You see, boys—” Both men had caught him by the arms. “How much have you got?” they said, staking him, as if to precipitate the an- swer. It's a heap,” said Barker. ly lot now I think of it. for 350,000, if a cent.” To his infinite astonishment and delight he was alternately hugged and tossed back- ward and forward between the two men quite in the fashion of the old days. Breathless but laughing, he at length “Whai does ft all mean?” ‘ell him everything, Jim—everything,” said Demorest quickly. Stacy briefly related the story of the forg- ery, and then laid the letter and its copy before him. But Barker only read the forg- e said both men eagerly and in “It's a ghast- I'm afraid I'm in “How could you, Stacy—one of the three partners of Heavy Tree—be deceived? Don’t you sce it's Phil's handwriting—but 1t isn’t “But have you any idea who it is?” said Stacy. “Not me,” said Barker with widely open- ed eyes. “You see, it must be somebody Whom we are familiar with. I can't im- agine such a scoundrel.” “How did you know that Demorest had stock agked Stacy. “He told me in one of his letters and ad- vised me to go into it. But just then Kitty wanted money, I think, and I didn’t go in.” “I remember it,” struck in Demorest. “But surely it was no secret. My name Would be on the transfer books for any one 0 se “Not so,” said Stacy quickly. “You were one of the original shareholders; there was no transfer, and the books as well as th shares of the company were in my hand “And your clerks?” added Demorest. Stacy was silent. After a pause he-asked “Did anybody ever see that letter, Barker? “No one but myself and Kitty. “And would she be likely to talk of it?” contjnued Stacy. “Of course not. Why should she? Whom could she talk to?” Yet he stopped sudden- and then with his characteristic reaction dded with a laugh, “Why, no, ceffainly “Of course, everybody knew that you had bought the shares at Sacramento?’ “Yes. Why, you krow I told you the Van Loo clerks came to me and wanted to take it off my hands.” “Yes, I remember; the Van Loo clerks: they knew it, of course,” said Stacy with a grim smile. “Well, boys,” he said, with sudden alacrity, “I'm going-to turn in, for by sun-up tomorrow I must be on my way to catch the first train at the Divide for ‘Frisco. We'll hunt this thing down to- gether, for I reckon we're all concerned in it,” he added, looking at the others, “and once more we're partners as in the old times. Let us even say that I've given Bar- ker's signal or ‘password,’" he added with a laugh, “and we'll stick together. Barker boy,” he went on, grasping his younger partner's hand, “your instinct has saved us this time; d—d if I don’t sometimes think it better than any other man's sabe; only,” he dropped his voice slightly, “I wish you had it in other things than finance. Phil, I've a word to say to you alone before I go. I may want you to follow me. “But what can I do?” said Barker eager- I You're not going to leave me out?” “You've done quite enough for us, old man,” said Stacy, laying his hands on Bar- ker’s shoulder. “And it may be for us to d> something for you. Trot off to bed now, like a good boy. I'll keep you posted when the time come: Shoving the protesting and leave-taking i | t unreal, as impotent, as shadowy as the memory of the attempted robbery in the old cabin on that very spot. He was ashamed of that selfishness which still made him cling to his past, so much his own that he knew it debarred him from the human sympathy of his comrades. And even Barker, in whose courtship and marriage he had tried to resuscitate his youthful emotions and condone his selfish errors, even the suggestion of his unhap- piness only touched him vaguely. He would no longer be a slave to the past, or the memory that had deluded him a few hours ago. He walked to the window; alas! there was the same prospect that had looked upon his dreams, had lent itself to his old visions. There was the eternal outline of the hills; there rose the steadfast pines; there was no change in them. It was this surrounding constancy of nature that had affected him. He turned away and entered the bed room. Here he suddenly remem- berer that the mother of this vague enemy Van Loo—for his feeling toward him was still vague, as few men really hate the per- sonality they don't know—had only mo- mentarily vacated it, and to his distaste of his own intrusion was now added the pro- profound irony of his sleeping in the same bed lately occupied by the mother of the man who was suspected of having forged his name. He smiled faintly and looked around the apartment. It was handsomely furnished, and although it still had much of the characterlessness of the hotel room, it was distinctly flavored by its last occu- pant, and still brightened by that myste- rious instinct of the sex which is inev able. Where a man would have simply left his forgetten slippers or collars there was a glass cf still unfaded flowers; the cold marble top of the dressing table was lit- tered by a few linen and silk toilet covers, and on the mantel shelf was a sheaf of photographs. He walked toward them me- chanically, glanced at them abstractedly, and then stopped suddenly with a beating heart. Before him was the picture of his past, the photograph of the one woman who had filled his lite! ‘4 He cast a hurried glance around the room, as if he half expected to see the originai start up before him, and then eagerly seized it and hurried with it to the light. Yes! Yes! It was she—she as she had lived in his actual memory, she as she had lived in his dream. He saw her sweet eyes, but the frightened, innocent trouble had passed from them; there was the sen- sitive elegance of her graceful figure in evening dress, but the figure was fuller and maturer. Could he be mistaken by some wonderful resemblance acting upon his too willing brain? He turned the photograph over. No; there on the other side, written in her own childlike hand, endeared and familiar to his recollection, was her own name and the date. It was surely she! How did it come there? Did the Van Loos know her? It was taken in Venice; there Was the address of the photographers. ‘The Van Loos were foreigners, he remembered; they had traveled; perhaps had met her there in 1858; that was the late In her handwriting; that was the date on the pho- tographer’s address—iso8. Suddenly he laid the photograph down, took with trembling firgers a letter case from his pocket, open- ed it, and laid his last letter to her, in- dorsed with the cruel announcement of her death, before him on the table. He passed his hand across his forehead and opened the letter. It was dated 1856! The photo- graph must have been taken two years after her alleged death. He examined it again eagerly, fixedly, tremblingly. A wild impulse to summon Barker or Stacy on the spot was restrain- ed with difficulty, and only when he re- membered that they could not help him. Then he began to oscillate between a joy and a new fear, which now, for the first time, began to dawn upon him. If the news of her death had been a fiendish trick of her relations, why had she never sought him? It was not ill-health, restraint, ror fear; there was nothing but happiness ard the strength of youth and beauty in that face and figure. He had not disappeared from the world; he was known of men; mere, his memorable good fortuae must have reached her ears. Had he vasted all these miserable years to find himself aban- doned, forgotten, perhaps even a dupe? For the first time the sting of jealousy entered his soul. Perhaps, unconsciously to him- self, his strange and varying feelings that afternoon had been the gathering climax of his mental condition; at all events, in the sudden revulsion there was a shaking off of his apathetic thought; there was activity, Barker with paternal familiarity from the | eVen if it was the activity of pain. Iere room, he closed the door and faced Demo- | ¥@8 a mystery to be solved, a secret to be rest. “He's the best fellow in the world,” said discovered, 2 past wrong to be exposed, an enemy or perhaps even a faithless love to Stacy quietly, “and has saved the’ situa-| be punished. Perhaps he had even saved tion, but we mustn’t trust too much to kim for the present. Not even seem to.” “Nonsense, man!’ said Demorest impa. tiently. “You're letting your prejudice go too far. Do you mean to say that you sus- pect his wife?’ “D— his wife!” said Stacy almost savage- ly. “Leave her out of this. that I suspect. knew was behind it, who expected to profit by it, and now we have lost him.” “But how?” said Demorest astonish24. “How?” repeated Stacy impatient!y. “You know what Barker said? Van Loo, either is reason at the expense of his love. He quickly replaced the photograph on the mantel shelf, returned the letter carefully to his pocketbook—no longer a souvenir of the past, but & proof of treachery—and be- gan to mechanically undreas himself. He was quite calm now, and went to bed with It's Van Loo | & strange sense of relief, and slept as he It was Van Loo who I | had not slept since he was a boy. ‘The whole hotel had sunk to rest by this time, and then began the usual slow, night- ly invasion and investment of it by ‘nature. For all its broad verandas and glaring ter- races, Its long ranges of windows and glit- through stupidity, fright, or the wish to get | tering crest of cupola and tower, it gradual- the lowest pricas, was too late to buy up| ly succumbed to the more potent influences the market. If he had, we might have | around it, openly declared the forgery, and if it was known that he or hfs friends had proftted by it, even if we could not have proven his actual complicity, made it too hot for him in California. said Stacy, looking intently at his friend, “do you know how the ease stands | carpets now?’ “Well,” said Demorest a little uneesily | the under his friend's keen eyes, “we've lost | o¢or of leaves’ that chance, but stock.” the and the price we it,” said Stacy arms and gased at Demevect iyi R well known as old friends and former mare: | Berean ners, for no apparent not ‘prove the. forgery now-—have "th upon the market all our stock, with usual effect of depreciating 1. Another we could at least have | es with a strong hand, and sent we've kept control of the | was the cry of the and became their sport and play- thing. The mountain breezes from the. dis tant summit swept down upon its flimsy structure, shook the great glass windows the balm of bay end spruce through every chink and cranny. In the great hall and corridors the billowed with the intruding blast the floors; there was the murmur of pines in the and the damp tn the ining room. ‘There Bight birds in the creak- and the. swift rush of ‘dark bed windows. along ing cupola past THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DS SL ER night-atung the eyes and nostrils of the It Was, perhapé,"from such cause as this the voice of the boy from the crib is that Barker was “awakened erie by hits him e Ing, showed him the ne dawn already veil- ing with color the ghostly pallor. of the Sierras. As they Jooked at it a great star shot forth from its brethren and fell. It not fall ularly, but séemed for some s¢001 to slip along the slopes of Black Spur, gleaming through the trees like a chariot of fire. It pleased the child to say that it was the light of mamma's buggy that was fetching"her home, and it pleased the father to encourage the boy's fancy. And talking thus in contidential whispers, they fell asleep once more, the father—himself a child in so many thii holding the smaller and frailer hand in his. They did not know that on the other side of the “Divide” the ‘wife and mother, scared, doubting and desperate, by the side of her scared, doubting and desperate accomplice, was flying down the: slope on her night-long road to ruin. Still less did they know that, with the carly singing birds, a careless horseman, emerging from the trail as the dust-stained buggy dashed past him, glanced at it with a puzzled alr, uttered a quiet whistle of surprise, and then, wheeling his hofSe, gayly cantered* after it. Chapter V. In the exercise of his arduous profeasion, Jack Hamlin had sat up all nigh: in the Magnolia saloon of the “Divide,” and as it was rather early to go to bed, he had, after his usual habit, shaken off the sedentary attitude and prepared himself for sleep ty a fierce preliminary gallop 1a the woods. Besides, he had been a large winner, and on those occasions he generally isolated himself from his companions t2 avoid fool- ish altercations with inexperienced play- ers. Even in fighting Jack was fastidious, and did not like to have his stomach for a real difficulty distended and vitiated by small preliminary indulgences. He was just emerging from the wood in- to the high road when a buggy dashed past him containing a man anc a woman. The woman wore a thick veil; the man was almost indistinguishable from the dust. The glimpse was momentary, but dislike has a keen eye, and in that glimpse Mr. Hamlin recognized Van Loo. The sit- uation was equally clear. The bent heads and averted faces, the dust collected in the heedlessness of haste, the early hour—in- dicating a night-long flight—all made it plain to him that Van Leo was running away with some woman. Mr. Hamlin had no moral scruples, but he had the etnics of @ sportsman, which he knew Mr. Van Loo was not. Whether the woman was an in- nocent school girl or an actress, ne was satisfied that Van Loo was doing a mean thing meanly. Mr. Hamlin als3 had a taste for mischief, and whetner the woman was or was not fair game, he knew that for his purposes Van Loo was. With the great- est cheerfulness in the worid he wheeled his horse and cantered after them. They were evidently making for the “Divide"’ and-a fresh horse, or to take the coach due an hour later. It was Mr. Ham- lin’s present object to circumvent this, and, therefore, it was quite in his way to re- turn. Incidentally, however, the superior speed of his horse gave him the opportun- ity of frequently lunging toward them at a furious pace, which had the effect of frantically increasing their own speed, when he would pull up witn a silent laugh before he was fairly discovered and sllow the sound of his rapid horse's hoofs to die out. In this way he amused himself until the straggling town of the “Divide” came in sight, when, putting his spurs to his horse again, he managed, under pretense of the animal becoming ungovernable, to twice “cross the bows" of the fugitives, compelling them to slacken speed. At the second of these passages Van Too ap- parently lost prudence, and, slashing out with his whip, the lash caught slightly on the counter of Hamlin’s horse. Mr. Hain- lin instantly acknowledged it by lifting his hat gravely, and speeded on to the hotel. arriving at the steps and throwing himself from the saddle exactly as the buggy drove up. With characteristic audacity, he actually assisted the frightened and eager woman to alight and run into the hotel. But in this action her veil was accidentally lifted. Mr. Hamlin instantly recognized the pretty woman who had been pointed out to him in San Francisco as Mrs. Barker, the wife of one of the partners whose fortunes had interested him five vears ago. It struck him that this was an additional reason for his interference on Barker's account, al- though personally he could not conceive why a man should ever try to, prevent a woman from running away from him. But then, Mr. Hamlin’s personal experiences | had been quite the other way. It was enough, however, to cause him to lay his hand lightly on Van Loo’s arm as the latter, leaping down, was about to fol- low Mrs. Barker into the hotel. “You'll have time enough now,” said Hamlin. “Time for what?” said Van Loo, savage- ly. ‘opie to apologize for having cut my horse with your whip,” said Jack, sweetly. “We don’t want to quarrel before a wo- man. “I've no time for fooling!" said Van Loo, endeavoring to pass. But Jack's hand Had slipped to Van Loo's wrist, although he still smiled cheer- fully. “Ah! Then you did mean it, and you propose to give me satisfaction?” Van Loo paled slightly; he knew Jack's reputation as a duelist. But he was des- perate. “You see my position,” he said, hurriedly. “I’m in a hurry; I have a lady with me. No man of honor—" “You do me wrong,” interrupted Jack with a pained expression. “You do, indeed. You are in a hurry; well, I have plenty of time. If you cannot attend to me now, why, I will be glad to accompany you and the lady to the next station. “Of course,” he added, with a smile, ‘at a proper dis- tance and without interfering with the lady, whom I am pleased to recognize as the wife of an old friend. It would be more sociable, perhaps, if we had some general conversation on the road; it wouid prevent her being alarmed. I might even be of some use to you. If we were overtaken by her husband on the road, for instance, I should certainly claim the right to have the first shot at you. Boy!’ he called to the hostler, “just sponge out Pancho’s mouth, will you, to be ready when the buggy goes?” And, loosening his grip of Van Loo’s wrist, he turned away as the other quickly entered the hotel. (To be continued.) ——.——_. A General Willingness, Breathes there a man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, For this, my own, my native land, I gladly ‘would make sacrifice; Give up my business—any price High would I pay to serve it, and ‘Dake any office small or great, If so that I might help the state. If such there be, go mark him down. ‘The biggest worder in the town, For greater ones you need not seek— In him you find the largest freak, —Opieago Record. D ARTISTS At the meeting of the Scciety of Wash- ington Artists held at Mr. Dunbar’s studio of Tuéeday evening, the proposed perma- nent exhibition hall on Connecticut avenue was the: principal topic of discussion. Enough money “has already been raised through the associate membership to com- mence operations, and the remodeling of the hall during the summer has been placed in the hands of a committee. Con- tributions have been steadily coming in, and it is to be hoped that all those willing to forward the good work by becoming associate members will send in their names at cnce, in order that the committee may know what amount it can depend upon. The meeting was the last regular one of the season, but an adjourned meeting ts to held next week in order to settle some of the detalls relating to the exhibition ball. * ak Mr. George Gibbs has just finished a strong series of drawings in black and white oll, illustrating events n the life of Commodore Bainbridge. The series deals largely with the naval engagements in the Mediterranean during the war with Tripoli, and there are many spirited scenes. Mr, Gibbs is entirely in his ele- ment in marine work, and portrays vessels in action with a spirit and animation which make the scene seem very vivid and real. Take, for example, his drawing showing the recapture of the “Philadelphia,” by De- catur, where the deck fs lit only by the glow of lanterns. The sudden surprise of the men on board the ship as they hastily catch up their weapons is very well rendered. Another interesting draw- ing shows the commodore and his officers in prison in Tripoli, watching the bom- bardment of the city from their narrow grated casement. The capture of the “Java” pictures the deck of a vessel after a severe engagement, with the disabled ship scen in the distance, and there are many other scenes of an equally#interest- ing character. * * * Miss Emily Humphreys, who has been making a brief stay in the city, brought with her a number of excellent specimens of decorative design, which is the branch of art she has chosen. Success in this work depends to a considerable extent on the full recognition of its limitations, and the aim of the designer is to give artistic effects in the simplest manner possible, in order to conform to industrial require- ments. The artistic result must be pro- duced by the clever combination of a few colors rather than by the use of a large number of hues, and in the most effective of Miss Humphreys’ designs only five or six tints are employed, and in less elav- orate work an even smaller number may be used. She uses flowers a great deal in decoration, and the purple crocus has heen introduced effectively in one of her wall paper designs. In the regular pattern as well as in the frieze and the ceiling design the arrangement of flowers and leaves 1s both graceful and decorative, and the color. ing is delicate and pleasing. "A wonderfull: rich and striking scheme of color is found in her iris design for a silk pattern, and many other specimens show an equal apti- tude for color. * x * The exhibition of water colors by Lucien Powell which has been on view in the basement gallery at Fischer's will be con- tinued for another week, and will be the last exhibit of local work held here this season. There is a wide range of subjezis, and scenes in Amiens, Turin, Venice and Holland hang side by side with views cf the country in the environs of Washing- ton. Mr. Powell is more than ordinarily ssful in his handling of street scenes, a number of his European pictures of this character. His Venetian sub- jects and marines aiso find general favor, and his present exhibition is not lacking in good specimens of both these lines of work. There are a number of very pleas- ing little sketches, such as the “Wind Mill, Surrey,"’ but the artist’s greatest success appears to be in the handling of large wa- ter colors. His bold, effective technique is well suited to the covering of large sur- faces, and he handles a large water color with almost the strergth of an oil. * ‘The meeting of the Water Color Club was held at Miss Perrie’s studio in the Art League building, her studio having been fixed upon as the regular place of meeting on account of its acccssibility. A very large number was present, and the discus- sion was confined mainly to the next an- nual exhibiticn. It has been. decided to hold it in the early part of December, and the arrangements for the place of exhibition have been confided fo the board of manag>- ment, are * ** Prof. E. F, Andrews has now upon his easel a portrait of Dr. Jenkins which prom- ises to be an exceptionally fine head when it is completed. He has already made two portraits of Dr. A. F. A. King’s mother, and is now at work on two of his father. The head is a very interesting one, and with the costume of many years ago the portraits will undoubtedly prove very strik- ing. Prof. Andrews has resumed work up- on the strong three-quarter-length portrait of Mrs. Klotz, which he commenced a year ago, and it is even in its present state very good as a likeness and tive as a study of light and shade. Mrs. Andrews, who is now in Ohio on a brief visit, re- cently completed a delightful water color, in which she presents a picture of her haby peering out the studio window. * ** Three new pictures loaned for exhibition have been placed in the Corcoran Art Gal- lery, the most important of these being an immense canvas by Mihaly de Munkacsy, loaned by Secretary Alger. It is called “The Last Hours of Mozart,” and shows the dying musician listening to the requiem mass which he had composed. It is a pic- ture of rare dramatic power, and the figure of Mozart is remarkable in its concepiion. The singers gathered around the plano are well grouped, and the whole picture is a wonderful study in composition. The cther ——-—+e- pletures exhibited are two marines, “The “Want” ads. in The Burning of the Bon Homme Richard,” Sa antag TONSU Arar oe ese ae ene ainiplchy Seaman anata ine eee = ton's Reef, Newport harbor, by Dr. Kindle, berger. *, * * ‘The gold medal, the bronze medal and the two honorable mentions will be awarded in the Corcoral School on the 26th of this month, and the compétition promises to be a very close one. A large number of stu- dents have been working for the medal, and they are so well matched that even those most familiar with their work cannot prophesy the winner with any degree of certainty. The judges selected to make the award this year are J. G. Brown, who has immortalized the New York street arab, Edward Simmons, the well-known mural painter, and H. F. Walman. The last men- tioned was cnce a student in this city, and the fact that he has already made his mark in the metropolis is ina great measure due to the genercus assistance which he received from Mr. Uh) during his early struggles in this city. The award is to be made on Wednesday, and the annual exhibition of the school will be open to the public for the remaining days of the week. The drawiags of the students entering the com- petition are to be marked with letters, and the judges leave their decision in a sealed envelope so the students may be assured of absolute impartiality in the award. * The interesting collection of oil paintings still continues in the main gallery at Fischer's, and among the pictures shown the head of a man by Louis Mettling has attracted especial attention on account of its strong simplicity of handling. The por- trait of Benjamin West, by Sir Thomas Lawrence, is another fine head, and there are several excellent landscapes, those by F, DeHaven being particularly noticeable. A number of painted studies for tapestry designs taken from one of the old masters in the Vatican are also shown. Some Lawyers’ Stories. ©. M. Harper in the Chicago Times-Herald. Frequent as are the interesting incidents im lawyers’ lives everywhere, they are most common in the west. Out on the plains, where so many new questions of law are to be determined, where the conflicting claims of ambitious newcomers are to be adjusted, the lawyer is an important individual. His “side line” of real estate, loans and insur- ance and his penchant for writing heavy editorials for the county seat newspaper which is his party organ, combine to make his influence considerable. He can tell many stories that aptly illustrate typical phases of western life, and they are usually worth listening to. x “The most thrilling incident I ever saw in a court room,” remarked a western at- torney the other day, “was in southern Kansas. The senior lawyer of the county bar was a distinguished-iooking and cour- teous gentleman ‘of the old school,’ who had litule patience with the joking always going on during court recess. He was ex- ceedingly near-sighted, but had a habit of laying his glasses on the table during his speeches to the jury. One day, as his back was turned toward the other lawyers, one of them picked up the glasses, and with a bit of mucilage fastened to the lenses pieces of tissue paper which exactly covered the glass—not particularly noticeable, but at the same time preventing vision through them. Soon the owner of the glasses came back to the table to examine some papers for reference in his address. He put on the glasses, looked at the paper, adjusted them again—and then a pallor overspread his face that was pitiful to see. He staggered to a chair. ““My God, gentlemen, I am blind! I have feared it for years,’ he exclaimed, and dropped his head on his hands. “For an instant the court room was hushed. Even the practical joker must have felt remorse at the evident suffering of his victim. Before any one could speak or the sheriff rap for order the attorney lifted his head, took off the glasses and had his sight again. His face flushed as he rubbed the tissue paper from the lenses and he stood up, an angry and excited man. “If I knew who did that dastardly trick, if I knew who had brought that minute of grief to me,’ he broke out, ‘I swear I would kill him.’ He left the court room and the judge adjourned the session for the day. I never want any more practical joking. A x kK RX In a Kansas City court there came on the stand a seedy-looking individual witn an honest ‘face and toll-calloused hand: “Where have you been recently? the iawyer. “Out in central Nebraska for years.” “What were you doing in central Ne- braska?”’ “Working for a living.” “No quibbling, sir. Tell this jury exactly what you did in those thirteen years.” “Well, sir, I was on a farm, and | raised thirteen crops—pretty nearly. Only those who realize how the mocking climate of the prairies allow a man to raise a@ crop every year—“pretty nearly”—and yet rob htm of his complete fruitage can fully appreciate the nice exactness of the answer. asked thirteen ** kK * “I practiced law once in Silverton, Col.,” said one of the passengers in the smoking room of the Pullman, “and had a case that struck me as a model exhibition of faithfulness. A Swede was mail carrier over the pass to the other side of the range. It was not a long trip, but it was a severe one, made on foot and with the danger in winter from heavy snows adding to its dif- ficulty. Andrew carried the mail for a year, then one day he failed to reach home. There were vaiuable letters in his sack, and the inference that he had decamped was strong. On the night he should have come to Silverton his brother, fresh from Scan- dinavia and unable to speak English, got off the stage. As county attorney, I had to break the news to the boy, and stood by while he wept. “Rewards were offered for Andrew, and i sent out parties to search the pass, but to no effect. A miner claimed to have seen him a week later in Leadville, but we got no more trace of him. The brother refused to believe that Andrew had done wrong, and spent his days tramping the canons searching for his brother's body. We tried to get him to go to work, but he did not yield until by his shortness of funds he was starved to it. In the summer, when most of the snow was off, he searched again, but in vain. During the winter he worked, but when the second spring came he renewed his lonely trampings up the trail. We thought him demented, but he cared not for our opinions. One day in August he walked along at the base of a cliff and saw a boot sticking out from so! debris. He uncovered it—and his searc! was ended. That evening he came into town with the mail sack, much stained, but intact, and his brother's coat. The grave he dug, with-the rough stone he efterward put at its head, is up the canon yet. It took two years to vindicate bis brother's name, but he did not begrudge it When it was done he went back to his native land.” ke KKK “Judge Randolph of Kansas was hearing a divorce case last fall. The witness was the plaintiff, a white-haired man, broken in health and in spirits, and wearing a bronze button in his lapel. The examina- ation was severe and the session mo- notonous. “You say your wife abused you; tell us just how,” thundred the attorney. The witness looked appealingly at the judge. “Answer the question, sir,” was the order from the bench. “Well, she said I was an old hypocrite to be proud of my war record. She said all the brave men who went to the war were killed and that only the cowards and deserters lived to come back, and——” “Stop!” commanded the aroused judge. “This divorce is granted. The court spent four years in that war—and the court came back. ‘The monotony was broken for that day. gon’t tell are editors and milkmen. ‘The longer a man is married the less ‘room he finds for his clothes in any of the closets. < A woman knows just about CATARRH OF THE STOMACH A Pleasant, Simple, bet Safe and Ef- feetual Care for It. Catarch of the stomach bas Jong been considered the mext thing to incurable. ‘The usual symptoms are a full or bloating sensation after eating, accom) nied sometimes with sour or watery formation of gases, causing pressure ¢ and lungs, and dificult breathing Appetite, “nervousness and a ge languid ieeling. ere ix often @ foul taste in the mouth tongue and if t rot seen it would show a slimy, tnfla The cure for this + Tisings, 1 condition yimon amd obstinate trou $s found in a treatment which causes the food to be readily, thoronghly digested before it has time to ferment and frritate the delicate mucous surfaces of th To secure @ prompt and by ot vessary thing tion ix mecured the According to Dr. the safest and best treatinent is > after each meal a tablet composed of diastase, aseptic a little mux, ' 5 golden seal and fruit actds. These taliieta «ah now be found at all drug stores under the nan Stuart's Dyspepsia Tablets and not being a pa” medicine can be used with perfect safety and that healthy appetite @hd thorou w thelr regular use after x Mr. N. J. Boober of 2710 Dearborn st.. M., writes: “Catarrh is a local condition, from a noglected cold in the head, whéreby th ing membrane of the nose becomes inflamed the poisonous discharge therefrom pasal ward nto the throat, reaches the st f producing catarrh of ‘the stomach thorities prescribed for me for three years for tarrh of ‘stomach without care, but today the happiest of men after using only one box Stuart's Dyspepsia Tablets. I cannot find appre priate words to express my good feeling, I have found fiesh, appetite and sound rest from their use. Stuart's Dyspepsia Tablets is the safest prepar tion as well as the simplest and mest convent remedy for any form of indigestion, catarrh stomach, biliousness, sour stomach, bearthurn vd for little book mailed free on stomach . by addressing Stuart Co., Marshall, Mich, ets can be found at all drug stores. Air-Brakes on Fast Freights. From the Engineering News. As for the besefit Which the railway cor- porations have reaped and are still to reap from the freight air-brake, we do not know whether to congratulate them upon i or not, since in the kindness of iheir souls they have given to the public all this bene- fit, in the shape of better service at lower rates. Certain it is that the freight air- brake has mede possible a remarkable in- crease in freight train speeds, and the handling of larger and heavier trains. Une der old ideas of train resistance “fas freights" used to be considered an exe pensive luxury; but the saving in trains men's wages far overbalances any addio tional cost for fuel when trains are run at high speed. The public, then, if not the railways, is to be congratulated thet, thanks to the genius and enterprise of Geo. Westinghouse and his associates, its goods are carried considerably more cheaply and promptly than they could be were the hand brake in as universal use on freight trains as it was a decade ag gee +e If you want anything, try an ad. in The Star. If anybody has what you wish, you will get an answer. i The Misery of It. From the Galveston Ns People who borrow giving it away. s. trouble are always eo ear Approach. A From the Indianapolis Journal. Freshy—“Professor, is it ever possible to take the greater from the less?” Prof. Potterby—“There is a pretty close approach to it when the conceit is taken out of a freshman. if you get a package like this. 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